Everyone has bad days, Omega tends to have more of them I do but I have my share too. Yesterday started out okay, with a therapy appointment, yes we talked about difficult things, mostly what I now call Alpha Beta stuff. Yes, meaning Omega too but not the way he is now but then. I had to redo my makeup afterward (note to self: don't wear makeup to those meetings anymore). I hate the process. It hurts a lot dredging up the past and talking about it. I know its supposed to help but it's so hard.
Yes, there was a trigger for the discussion. It's been bubbling to the surface since the end of the last month. It forced me to reveal a secret, a very dark secret involving Alpha and his gun play; a tiny little detail I have always left out, which I can no longer ignore. It's bad enough without adding in that detail--with that detail it crosses a line I've never wanted to deal with.
Work was complete chaos, everything hitting the fan at once. I called Omega, but his cell was off, so I called his office line, and his secretary gave me a rundown of his day. Equally bad. Someone got injured so all their work was divided between him and another. He'll be playing catch-up and juggling an incredibly busy schedule for a few weeks at least. He sent me a text later asking me if I could pick up his dry cleaning for him. This led to a volley of messages between us, mostly about groceries and booze. Our day didn't improve much, in fact only got worse.
I left for home earlier than usual, did my errands. Omega sent me a text saying heading to his nightly meeting and therapy appointment, he'd be home after those. Can you feel tension in a text?
All day long, I had been thinking about getting home, washing my face, putting on sweatpants, tying my hair into a ponytail, and finally I was home to do it. I let the dog outside, and ran upstairs and did all that. Came down looking only somewhat close to resembling female. I became anti-girl with a wine opener. Then I took out some work I brought home, sipped wine and started working.
Omega came a couple hours later, dropped his briefcase and wordlessly went upstairs. I heard the shower come on. A short time later, while I still worked, he turned up looking like a caveman. His hair was a mess, wearing his boxers, and a wife beater tee-shirt. Amused I lifted my glass of wine to him. We didn't speak, probably thought it was better not to.
Our evening continued much like that. We said please and thank you at all the right times. Other than that we remained silent. He would gesture to his glass when he wanted it refilled, or he would grab the bottle of wine and in the same wordless way asked if I wanted more. We walked the dog together but seemed to enjoy the quiet between us. I was grateful because I didn't want to be asked questions. I didn't want to talk. I guess he felt the same. Or maybe he knew when he saw me. When it was time for bed, he pulled me close stroking my hair as I listened to the sound of his heart. We whispered only our love for each other. Other words, at least for that day, were not needed.