Page 6 of Generation Omega: Revealed
“Are you?” Her sweetness is another gift. Everything I ever give her will be returned a million times over in her appreciation and unwavering care.
I lean and grab a robe from the back of the couch, opening it for her. She drops her towel and slips her arms into the sleeves, allowing me to tie the belt around her. I grab the other robe and quickly don it. The robes are a little silly considering I’m counting the seconds until we can ditch them, but wearing something for the final surprise seems more civilized. I also didn’t want to presume anything about what happens next. Tillie will always have the choice about everything we ever do, and the robes are my way of honoring that.
My pulse races as I take her hand in mine, hoping she doesn’t notice my trembling, and lead her toward the door.
She eyes it and then me. “Another door. I wonder what heaven is on the other side.”
Remembering my plan, I pause to lift a blindfold from the dresser and show it to her. “Is this okay?”
“Absolutely.”
She’s radiating with excitement as I gently cover her eyes with the satin and position the strap. Then I push the door open and, holding her waist from behind, guide her to another curved staircase, this one covered in the same thick carpet as the bathroom.
“Steps,” I murmur and support her as she feels her way up the flight of stairs.
When we reach the top, I kiss her wet hair and then turn on the lights. “I love you, Tillie Harrison. Happy birthday.”
As I ease the blindfold off, I move to the side so that I can see her face as her eyes open. I’ve imagined a dozen possible expressions that she’ll wear, but the strange blankness on her face surprises me.
She’s frowning and I’m not breathing. “What…” she mumbles, “… did you do?”
Her bearing is locked down and I’m speechless, not sure what to say or do, so I follow her gaze as she surveys the room I renovated for her. The secret round room inside the conical spire at the pinnacle of the building—this was always my favorite part of my aunt’s place. From the street, it always reminded me of a magician’s hat, something every building should wear. It was pure magic to me as a boy and still is today, and that’s why I wanted it to be the same for Tillie. She deserves all the magic in the world.
Tillie’s eyes become bloodshot as her tears well, making the blue-grey almost glow against the red. My stomach drops as uneasiness grips me. I stare at what she sees, wondering what’s bothering her. I thought I got it right. There’s a raised circular bed with a cream wood base that conceals drawers, and a custom-made round mattress. Dozens of the softest pillows and blankets cover the bed in a messy pile that I thought was the most appealing and cuddliest configuration.
String lights softly illuminate the space, six strands moving up the walls and meeting at the highest point. She can’t know yet, but they have several settings to ensure the room is only ever as bright as she desires. There are no windows, which was disappointing to me and I almost added some, but everything I read convinced me that this room shouldn’t have windows.
Tillie grabs my hand and I’m shocked by how cold she is.
I move in front of her, blocking her view of the room, fighting the deep ache of profound disappointment and shame. Her reaction was nothing near what I hoped and I just want to escape this moment entirely, but before we leave, I have to know. “Till, is it not right? Is that why you hate it?”
She gapes at me, tears leaking from her eyes. Her hold on my hand tightens. “Hate it? What?”
I shake my head as confusion pounds my skull and then I tug her toward the mattress, where we sit together with our hands still connected.
“Usually, I can read you, but I’m completely lost right now. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to stay here. We can go back downstairs and forget about this. We can get a hotel.” I sound more desperate by the second. “I just wanted to surprise you—if this isn’t a good surprise, I’ll try again.”
“What?” she sputters and then sobs uncontrollably like I’ve never seen.
My only comfort is that she’s gripping me like I’m the only available raft after her ship sank, rather than shoving me away and making a run for it. Since she’s lost the ability to speak, I do the only thing I can. I pull her onto my lap and hold her, rocking very gently as she continues to cry.
I don’t speak because I have no idea what to say. I’ll apologize. I’ll do anything to make this right. But I’m currently without a single clue about what’s happening.
Agonizing minutes pass before Tillie’s breaths begin to even out and her quivering hand rests against my cheek. Her voice breaks as she says, “Ethan, I’m so sorry.”
“Just tell me what I did wrong.”
“Wrong?!” Tillie’s tone is shrill and only gets louder as she repeats, “Wrong?!” Her mouth drops open as she glares at me. A moment later, understanding dawns and then guilt shows in her gaze. “Oh, god—no, Ethan, you didn’t do anything wrong. You did the mostrightthing anyone has ever done for me.” More tears fall, followed by an unsteady sob. “You made me anest.” She speaks that word as though it’s sacred, and I begin to feel a hint of hope.
“So you’renotupset with me?”
Tillie blurts a watery laugh. “No, of course not. I’m just… a mess, but a grateful one. I…” She glances around the space again. “You made me a nest.”
“I did or, at least, I tried. We can change anything you like.”
“No, it’s perfect.” She’s defensive about the nest,hernest. “I just don’t understand why you did it. You don’t even believe in the omegaverse.”
“You do.” I brush away her tears, grateful they’ve finally stopped recharging. “And I believe in you. I love you and I wanted you to have a place where you’re safe to dream your dreams, to believe whatever you want about the world and the future—a safe place, a magical place, a place where you can be the most you. I think we all need that.”
