Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna Left novel Chapter 51

(Audrey’s POV)

I stood by my car, watching Arthur walk away with deliberate steps, his shoulders tense and his stride stiff. His towering frame disappeared into the rain-soaked street, blending with the muted grays of the day, leaving behind a haunting quiet.

The umbrella he had held over us was still in my hand, droplets of water sliding from its edges as I stared at where he had been standing moments ago.

The soul-deep emptiness inside me deepened. Eight years. Eight years of my life bound to him. Eight years of believing he would one day love me as much as I-

I stopped the thought before it could finish. I couldn’t go there. Not right now. Not after everything.

Gripping the handle of the umbrella tightly, I got into my car, slamming the door behind me harder than necessary. The sound echoed in the confined space, but instead of comforting me, it left a hollow ache in my chest.

As I drove to Sarah’s place, I tried to steady my breathing. Every mile felt heavier. Despite the rain blurring the windshield, the tears gathering in my eyes threatened to blur my vision more. But I refused to let them fall.

Not yet.

—

Inside Sarah’s house, the warmth of home greeted me, but it couldn’t chip away at the cold knot in my chest. I tried to smile when Sarah opened the door, though it felt more like a grimace.

“You’re back?” she said, raising a brow with a mix between concern and curiosity. “That was quick.”

“Yeah,” I replied simply, not trusting my voice to say more without cracking.

Sarah stepped aside, letting me in. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted toward me from the kitchen, but it did little to ease my growing nausea.

She studied me as I kicked off my shoes in the entryway. “How did it go?” she asked bluntly.

I knew she disliked small talk and preferred to get straight to the point, but I wasn’t ready to articulate the train wreck that today had been. “It’s over,” I said softly, keeping my reply vague.

Sarah crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall. “What’s over? Did Arthur sign the papers?”

I shook my head, avoiding her gaze as I walked toward the living room. My legs felt like lead, but I forced myself to keep moving, each step heavier than the last. “Not officially,” I admitted, collapsing onto the couch. “We have to wait a month before the severance is finalized. Pack law.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she followed me. “A month,” she repeated, her tone practically dripping with suspicion. “That’s plenty of time for him to pull something stupid.”

I released a bitter laugh. “Sarah, he’s not going to fight for me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” she said, sitting beside me, her voice softer now. “But he might use the month to weasel his way into convincing you to stay. Or he’ll come up with some excuse to delay it further.” She hesitated before adding, “You know he’s called me.”

That caught my attention. “What?”

She nodded, her lips curving in a grim smile. “Arthur called me earlier. Told me to look after you during the waiting period. As if you’d fall apart the moment he’s not around.” Her eyes narrowed. “Audrey, I don’t trust him. He doesn’t want to sever the bond. Not really.”

I held her gaze for a moment before shaking my head. “He’s more worried about Victoria and her pup. Let’s not kid ourselves here.”

Sarah’s expression softened, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she reached out, grabbing my hand and squeezing it lightly. “You’ll get through this,” she said. “One month. You’re close to being free of all this.”

She meant well, but those words felt like knives twisting in my gut. Free? Was I? Or would freedom just mean loneliness?

Excusing myself quietly, I headed to the bathroom. Once alone, I locked the door, turning to face myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back, pale and exhausted, the dark circles under my eyes stark against my skin. Slowly, I glanced down at my still-flat stomach.

A sob clawed its way out as I covered my abdomen protectively with both hands. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through trembling lips as guilt seeped into every crevice of my heart. Guilt for severing the bond. Guilt for dragging my unborn pups through this chaos.

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