Episode 6

Maiston was asleep, yet amidst a dream.

It was the kind of dream one might call perfect, situated on a beach basking in the glorious sunshine while sipping an exquisite alcoholic concoction. The breeze toyed with his hair, and the sun's rays imbued his skin with an even deeper tan. It was a stunning hue that rendered him exceptionally attractive and irresistible.

Lounging on a hammock, he watched as delectable treats were brought to him.

He thought nothing could spoil this moment and closed his eyes to savor every sensation. The squawk of seagulls blended with the ocean's rhythm bathed his ears—truly, this was paradise, where anyone would long to be. Then, unusual noises pierced the tranquility, and a light pressure on his chest stirred him. Assuming it was another tray laden with delights, he opened his eyes ready to indulge once more, but what he saw next left him stunned.

A baby stared back at him with a haunting voice, uttering:

"Daddy."

Maiston jolted awake on his bed and sat bolt upright, his shout reverberating throughout the vicinity. His gaze darted around in a mix of terror and confusion, and the Omega beside him approached, concerned for his well-being.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Maiston was far from okay, his mind bombarded by visions of babies crawling everywhere and plummeting from the skies. A chill sweat broke out on his skin as he trembled uncontrollably.

"There was a... a baby. A baby… Where is it?!" he implored frantically, tearing the bed sheets aside and scouring the mattress in the belief it was concealed there.

"What baby? It must've been a nightmare, Maiston."

"It wasn't, Obelly! I heard it! It called me daddy!"

The Omega regarded him with bewilderment as he paced wildly in search of the nonexistent child. After what felt like an eternity, Maiston retreated to the bathroom for a shower, desperate to erase the chilling image of that infant with its almost diabolical gaze.

Never had he considered fatherhood, nor could he envision such a role, especially after that bizarre, unsettling dream. He decided it was the worst of nightmares and headed to work in a daze, unclear on his destination or obligations. A headache struck, with hunger nowhere on the horizon.

Upon reaching his office, he dropped his briefcase and sat staring into the void, unblinking, struggling to swallow.

"Maiston, you moron, you parked your car like a disaster with the door wide open!"

Jim came in exhausted from dealing with Maiston's car, left in disarray with the key still in the ignition. He was about to continue his reprimand but paused, seeing that Maiston was hardly present. Not receiving a response, Jim grew increasingly worried. Out of sheer curiosity, he tossed a pencil.

Under normal circumstances, this would have irked Maiston, leading to a swift physical response, but the man remained utterly still. Jim scratched his nape in bewilderment, pondering his next move as his concern deepened.

Maiston, oblivious to Jim's oaths, found himself trapped in the reverberating echoes of the dream. He was certain it had only been a dream; yet, it felt so tangible that he could still visualize the infant's visage. He refused to interpret this as a sign of impending fatherhood—after all, with the Omega he was with, they always took precautions. There had never been any kind of tie between them, so the mere thought of a pregnancy announcement seemed absurd.

Uncertain of what to do, Maiston refused to entertain the notion of a future dominated by infants.

He barely noticed the world around him, not even Jim conversing with his secretary.

"Boss!"

"It's pointless talking to him, he seems half-possessed, Rouse. He left the car open and poorly parked. Lucky there are no thieves around, or he'd have lost his expensive car."

"Boss, I need you to sign these checks so I can take them to the bank ASAP," she said, almost hovering over him, waving a hand before his eyes, to no avail.

She was at a loss for ideas on how to provoke a reaction.

"Could he be hypnotized?"

"Hypnotized?"

"Yeah, you know, the whole ‘sleep at the count of three' deal. He's got that look, or maybe some gypsy cursed him on his way here. This isn't normal behavior for him. Perhaps we should splash water in his face?"

Jim intended to stop her, but Rouse wasted no time in acting. Work was calling, and she was determined not to fall behind, not to mention being late for a wedding was out of the question.

She filled a glass with water and doused his face.

Both watched as he didn't even blink. Their exchanged glances were filled with worry, for they knew their boss well enough to anticipate a firing at the very least for such actions.

"We should slap him."

"Wait!"

A slap resonated through the room. Jim contemplated fleeing but admired Rouse's lack of fear, even enough to strike Maiston.

They didn't know how long they persisted until Maiston came to his senses independently. He signed whatever Rouse handed him with apathy; she could've persuaded him to sign over the company and his fortune, and he would've complied. Unnoticing of his wet clothes, he worked robotically, haunted by the recurring vision. Only when he entered the women's restroom by mistake, stirred by screams, did he snap out of it.

Apologizing while he headed out, he noted it was time to go home. Back in his office, he saw Jim leaving items on his desk.

"Hey, Jim..."

"Oh, you remember who I am."

"What?" Maiston asked, puzzled.

"That you were out of it all day. Rouse even slapped you."

"I don't recall that."

"Well, it was a mighty slap. She's small, but she packs a punch. Now at least I know how to handle her. But come on, what happened? Why were you like that? I was about to take you to a shrink or even check you into a psych ward."

Maiston settled into his chair; rare were the dreams he had, but whenever he dreamed something concrete, it usually meant something was about to happen. Unsure of what the dream could signify, he struggled to explain.

"Do you remember when I dreamed we won the soccer championship back in high school?"

Jim nodded, taking a seat.

"And then we won. Do you recall when I dreamed we were mugged outside the university?"

Again, Jim nodded.

"And then the thieves took our laptops, forcing us to spend an entire year using the university's library because we had nowhere else to work."

"I remember all that, Maiston, but what's the point of bringing up the past? What's going on? Did you have another dream?"

With a thoughtful look, Maiston nodded.

"Yes."

"Well, what was it? Did I win the lottery? Did I have a horde of Omegas just for me?"

"No, none of that. It wasn't just a dream; it was more like a nightmare that stays with me."

"So what's the deal? Spill it."

"I dreamed I was in a wondrous island, drinking some pricey alcohol, enjoying a beautiful sunny day. The sky was pure blue, cloudless, the sea's song and the refreshing breeze..."

Jim's nods turned to yawns, resting his chin on one hand, dozing off. He thought Maiston might never finish, until he heard:

"Then, a baby appeared and said: daddy," Maiston whispered, feeling a sinister shiver that constricted his breath.

Hearing his friend laugh as though he had cracked the ultimate, award-worthy joke, Maiston glared sourly.

"That's ridiculous, Maiston. Those previous occasions were mere coincidences. Are you seriously this shaken up because you think a child will pop up out of nowhere?"

"It's not funny."

"Of course, it is! It's not as if someone is about to walk through your office door claiming you have a child," Jim laughed, mocking the idea.

Maiston knew there was a grain of truth in Jim's words, but the dream had left him uneasy nonetheless. Those previous dreams, coincidental or not, became realities, and that's what troubled him.

Seeing his friend in stitches, Maiston simply stood up and headed home.

Once home, he noticed the emptiness and disorder, the dirt and the disarray. He had never hired a maid, as Prince preferred handling everything himself. Prince had been diligent about cleaning, organizing, and keeping everything spotless, including impeccably ironing his shirts and jackets. But now, descending the stairs was an Omega who was the antithesis of Prince.

"Did you bring food? I'm starving."

"You could cook something. I told you the fridge was stocked, Obelly."

"What? I'm not cooking anything. Get a maid or something," he protested, slumping onto the couch.

Maiston watched him for a moment, unenthused yet ravenous.

He changed clothes to start cooking. He wasn't helpless in the kitchen; Prince had taught him to whip up several excellent dishes, and he momentarily missed being with him.

"I apologize," he heard beside him. "I didn't mean to say that. It's my mother again. Can I help you with anything?"

Maiston looked up and nodded silently. He was well aware of the troubles with Obelly's mother.

"You should ignore her, Obelly. We both know she's the one in the wrong."

The Omega sighed deeply.

"I don't want to leave for another country to run a business I don't care about. I'm studying because I love my field, and I want to finish it. But she simply doesn't understand."

Watching Obelly skillfully slicing carrots, Maiston observed that the Omega was quite adept with a knife, his precision mirroring Prince's. As he dwelt briefly on thoughts of his former Omega, he realized he was lingering on the past—for no good reason anymore.

He had wanted a divorce, and he'd gotten it; there was no need to reflect on what was.

"Mothers can be overbearing at times, looking to control their children's lives, and that's not the answer. They might have a say when their kids are minors, but once they're adults capable of managing their own affairs, it's time to let them make their own choices and face the world alone.”

"That's what I keep trying to tell her, but she won't listen. She says I've wasted four years already even though I've never had a bad grade, and I'm always top of my class. I just want to graduate and work in my chosen field."

Maiston smiled, noting Obelly's clear goals and intentions.

"Keep at it; you'll make it happen."

"Would you help me?" Obelly asked kindly.

"With what?"

"Well, my mother won't help with my tuition because of what I told you, and I need to pay it within a week or get expelled. I have some savings, but it's not enough to cover the entire year."

The Alpha added ingredients to a pan with oil, seasoning with herbs and salt, then set the flame low, while Obelly began peeling potatoes for the stew. He seemed enthusiastic and happy.

"How much is it?"

"Two million a year. I've been working, but it's not enough, and my mother refuses to give me a dime."

"Don't worry; I'll give it to you."

"Really?"

Maiston nodded, and to his surprise, Obelly moved closer and kissed him.

"You're the best."

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***