Free Web NovelChapter 31: Chapter 31 Never My Mate
Bella’s POV
After tucking the children into their beds, I curled up in the armchair with a glass of red wine, my eyes still stinging with unshed tears as I gazed through the window at the solitary moon hanging in the darkness.
Heavy clouds drifted across the sky, and even the scattered stars seemed reluctant to keep the moon company tonight.
I exhaled slowly, watching as the clouds attempted to shroud the moon completely, yet it persisted in breaking through, appearing more radiant with each emergence.
"So it really was my fault," I whispered to myself, recalling how they had all reacted when I announced my pregnancy years ago.
Every single one of them claimed they weren’t prepared for that kind of commitment, or dismissed me as nothing more than an omega in their lives.
Now I discovered that those who insisted they weren’t ready had already gotten someone else with child.
As for the rest, I had simply been an omega to them. Nothing more. Yet one of them had chosen to pursue my omega step-sister instead.
So apparently, I had been the issue all along. They simply hadn’t wanted me in any capacity.
Throughout all these years, I convinced myself that when our paths crossed again, I would stand firm. I promised myself I wouldn’t be affected, that witnessing them with their chosen partners or romantic interests wouldn’t wound me.
I had anticipated they would have established new relationships by now, built fresh connections with others. But I never prepared myself for the intensity of this anguish.
Ding!
My phone buzzed with an incoming message, and I wearily lifted my hand to glance at the screen.
Hugo: I’m heading over to see you.
I bolted upright immediately, torn between reaching for the wine glass or grabbing my phone to respond first.
I drained a generous portion of the wine, then began typing rapidly on my device.
Me: I have no desire to speak with you or anyone else at this moment. Please respect my privacy.
After sending the message, I hoped he would honor my request and stay away. I rose from the chair, placing both the glass and phone aside, then wrapped myself in the black silk robe over my short nightgown.
The instant I heard the keycard mechanism activate, I realized my message had fallen on deaf ears.
I positioned myself in the center of the living room, observing as he pushed through the entrance and stepped inside. His entire frame appeared rigid, shoulders pulled taut with tension.
Hugo had always been transparent with his emotions. Whenever anger consumed him, his veins would become prominent, throbbing visibly while he formed tight fists that made his hands appear more substantial and weathered.
He wore a crisp white shirt paired with matching white shorts as he advanced toward me with the determination of a charging animal, his gaze fixed intensely on mine. Neither of us wavered from the staring contest as he closed the distance between us.
The expansive window bathed us in cool moonlight, while the remainder of the suite remained shrouded in quiet shadows.
"What exactly was your problem during dinner tonight?" he confronted me directly.
He possessed the nerve to arrive here and interrogate me about my behavior, acting as though he remained oblivious to what had triggered my distress.
Even if he understood the cause, what purpose would questioning serve? The damage had already been done and couldn’t be undone.
Not that I expected him to take any action on my behalf.
I balled my hands into fists and compressed my lips firmly, compelling myself to maintain composure so my emotions wouldn’t betray me. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Vulnerable women like myself become easy targets for manipulation.
"Let me put it this way," I responded after clearing my throat and stabilizing my tone, "I found it quite shocking to encounter my tormentor at that table."
"Camilla isn’t anyone’s tormentor," Hugo immediately came to her defense before continuing, "The childhood harassment happened because she was following her mother’s instructions. Everyone merits an opportunity to change."
He delivered these words while maintaining direct eye contact, making it crystal clear that he disapproved of my characterization of his girlfriend.
"I’m pleased you feel that way, since you obviously granted her that opportunity. But why should I be expected to endure her company?" I countered, challenging his assumption that his forgiveness automatically extended to mine as well.
"Because you’re behaving immaturely," he accused.
I immediately raised my index finger and waved it dismissively.
"You have no authority to dictate how I should react to individuals who have caused me harm, Hugo."
I maintained my quiet tone despite the deep pain it caused me.
The realization that I would never have treated Hugo this way left me devastated. It seemed as though they had never genuinely valued my friendship.
So why had they kept me in their circle? Why offer protection and support during all those years before ultimately abandoning me? None of it made logical sense.
"She offered you an apology, and she informed me that you accepted it. It appears your resentment resurfaced when you witnessed us together," Hugo observed, gesturing toward himself.
He was referencing the hollow apology my step-sister had delivered, one I had felt obligated to accept to avoid creating drama or revisiting painful memories.
"I suppose you’re correct," I admitted quietly, my voice wavering slightly. I hesitated, swallowed the lump in my throat, and regained control before proceeding.
"Watching you two as a couple made me understand that I haven’t only been deceived before. People continue to believe they can mistreat me without consequences."
My voice trembled again on those final words.
"If you’re concerned she might harm or torment you again, then I promise you, she’s transformed completely now," he attempted to reassure me, once again defending her character.
I simply nodded, grinding my teeth together. Why would I expect him to sympathize with me when the woman opposing me was someone he cherished?
"You can go now." I stepped backward and indicated the exit.
I lacked the energy to continue this battle, and I refused to participate further, since doing so would only diminish my dignity more.
He followed my gesture toward the door, then refused with a shake of his head.
"No, this conversation isn’t finished. You’re avoiding the discussion once again."
The moment those words left his mouth, fury surged through me, the identical rage that emerged whenever they accused me of fleeing from confrontation.
They portrayed it as my personal failing when, in reality, it had been my only viable choice.
"Well then, I’d prefer to withdraw rather than watch you diminish yourself further in my estimation," as I spoke these words, I observed his muscles contract.
His brows drew together, and deep lines formed across his forehead.
"Why are you behaving as if my relationship with her personally offends you?" he snapped.
I matched his expression, astonishment crossing my features.
"Leave!" I commanded again, raising my voice this time.
Once more, he shook his head with determination.
"Absolutely not. I’m your mate. I refuse to depart until you provide me with explanations," he insisted. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
His declaration struck me like a physical blow. He had referred to himself as my mate.
In a composed yet resolute voice, I responded, "I don’t care that we experienced the mate bond. I will never acknowledge you as my mate."
