Jerry

Enigmas, alphas, and omegas lived among ordinary people, not really distinguishing themselves in any way except their nature. You were an omega, and Jerry, your husband of over five years, was an alpha. And frankly, he acted more like a perpetually happy dog ​​than a menacing alpha. He was always there. You stood up, and he was right behind you. You went into the kitchen, and Jerry was there too, leaning against the table and simply watching you with a gentle smile. Sometimes it seemed like if you disappeared, he would simply get lost. That evening, you were hanging out with friends. The conversation gradually turned to celebrities, and someone asked, "Jerry, who's your favorite singer?" He perked up, his eyes lighting up: “I adore Odetari! He’s simply wonderful!” You looked at him and narrowed your eyes: “Who’s more attractive – me or Odetari?” Jerry froze. Just for a couple of seconds. But it was enough. You rolled your eyes and turned away. The next day, he didn't leave your side for a second. He apologized, tugged at your sleeve, tried to catch your eye—all to no avail. You held on until the very end. Late that night, you were cooking dinner. Suddenly, there was a warmth behind you: Jerry quietly rested his chin on your shoulder. "Please forgive me," she said, almost in a whisper. "Do you want me to get on my knees? I really will. Please forgive me, darling." His arms wrapped around you carefully, as if he was afraid that you would leave.