With the author's famous The Tale Of A Pregnant Luna series, Internet captivates readers with every word. Dive into chapter Chapter Fourteen, where love anecdotes intertwine with plot twists and hidden demons. Will the next chapters of the The Tale Of A Pregnant Luna series be available today?
Key: The Tale Of A Pregnant Luna Chapter Fourteen
Chapter 14:
I boarded on the plane, walking towards my seat. Sitting down I let myself look out the window. This was it. I was going to get out of here, away from the pain and sorrow that was following me around. I was going to get away from him, who had hurt me. I was going to live happily and I was going to live successfully for both of us. My eyes brimmed with tears, as my heart clenched. A sense of guilt washed over me as the thought of taking away Reese's right to know of our child was eating me up. But thinking of what he had done to us, he didn’t deserve to know. He didn’t deserve us. Yes...
This was a new start for me. A new life.
Boarding off the plane, got off with nothing but Daniels card. Showing my passport I walked out of the airport, towards a nearby ATM, withdrawing some cash. For a moment I couldn’t have felt happy taking some sort of French in high school. Hauling a taxi, I got in directing the driver towards a nearby hotel. Tomorrow I was going to go apartment hunting and we were going to settle and live well. Reaching the Hotel, I got off the Taxi, paying the driver.
"Bonne nuit (goodnight), madam" he said as he drove off.
Soon I got to the reception and booked a bedroom. I entered the cold room. This was it for me. I was alone. No pack. No mom. No mate. Only me and my baby. Standing in the room I felt an emptiness consume me.
Walking towards the large four poster bed, I sat down, my mind swarming with all the possibilities and impossibilities. I couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if he had just accepted me? If he had just loved us? He had just ...wanted us. Tears brimmed my eyes as I let myself lay down the tears pouring out. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to hear the tiny badump of the baby's heartbeat. What had been done was already done and time couldn’t be turned back. This was the reality....
I turned to my side as I silently sobbed. I felt weak and vulnerable. Could I really do this alone? I wondered how he wasn’t affected after the rejection, showing his composure and his aura of being "okay". I allowed myself to hope that he would simply turn back and tell me he was sorry and he really did want me. I couldn’t help but despise him for making me feel the way I was feeling, and I couldn’t help but despise myself for allowing myself to feel so affected. I stood off the bed wiping my tears away and walking towards the dress mirror. I opened the side drawer, pulling out a pair of scissors,
L-life giving
U- useful and strong
N-natural caretaker
A- attractive
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was neither of those, nor he didn’t seem to see me fit any of the categories. My waist length hair had become shoulder length in a split second. I watched as my brown hair fall to the ground.
Falling to my knees, I looked at myself in the mirror once again, as I cried into my hand. The continuous why’s repeatedly echoing. Why wasn’t it me? Why did he reject me? Why did I have to go through this pain? Why me? Why was I so weak? Why couldn’t have been stronger to stand up better? Though its human nature to feel fragile, I wished I were simply stronger.
Placing my hand on my belly, I let myself come to an eventual decision. I was not going to make my child feel rejected. My child was not going to be known as a rejected bastard. We were going to make it through and I was going to make it happen. Feeling slightly satisfied I felt a wave of nausea hit me.
I stood up as I rushed to the toilet bowl puking yet again. I looked down at my belly chuckling slightly. From what I used to hear from the omegas on kitchen duty, a baby bump should form in about 2 weeks. I could do it. There was no time to feel weak. I walked to the sink, rinsing my mouth. And looking at my ugly tears stained face. Even a ghost would have run away. Washing my face, I skidded into the room, pulling the covers over me, I switched off the lamp light and lied down looking into the city through the window near the dressing mirror. Soon, my eyes began feeling droopy as I fell asleep.
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