Shattered by the Alpha Stronger Than Ever novel Chapter 126

Chapter113

Yet, every time I considered reaching out to my father, the memory of my mother’s anguished face and her shattered soul would rise up, haunting me The pain and betrayal living on her features is still fresh, and I would recoll, unable to take the step towards reconciliation and it continued to hold me back from making amends with my father.

My eyes welled up with tears as memories of her flooded my mind. It wasn’t as if I was reminiscing about her she was always with me, a constant, beautiful presence in my thoughts, a lingering ache in my heart. She had been my everything, the source of my strength and confidence, the one who had instilled in me the courage to live a life free from the shadows of her own pain. Her life had been dedicated to provide me resilience, a quiet struggle to murture my spirit while hers slowly withered away, ravaged by the betrayals and

heartaches she had endured

The memories of her anguish still sear my mind – the pain that numbed her tears, the emptiness that extinguished the sparkle in her eyes, the hunger that dwindled to a mere whisper. I witnessed her emotions wither away, like autumn leaves crumbling to dust, as she surrendered to the weight of her sorrow. With each passing day, I saw her fade, a little more of her vitality slipping away, until she was no more, soul, heart and body. My heart still seethes with resentment towards my father, the man who, with his actions, had selfishly drained the life from her, killing her spirit long before her body succumbed.

The luxury bus had been a cost–effective option, thanks to a timely promotion that made it cheaper than flying. I had arranged for Dexter to pick me up from the bus stand and drive me back to the apartment, where all the paintings I sent from mail would be waiting.

Keith had been on thy mind lately as well, and I’d been toying with the idea of meeting him one last time before I left for Montana. He’d covered my hospital bills, no questions asked, even though he had no obligation to do so. He had no obligations, yet he had still cared

baby we’d lost, and about me some way that I couldn’t deny.

The ache of losing motherhood still lingered, a deep sadness that echoed within me everyday. I missed the joy of nurturing a new life, and the sense of purpose that had briefly been mine. But then I’d think of my mom, and the sacrifices she’d made for me. I’d remember the dreams she’d put on hold, the happiness she’d fortelted by staying with my father. Her intentions, though misguided, had been pure and loving And so, I drew strength from her example. Instead of surrendering to grief, I focused on the necessary tasks that filled my days: cooking, cleaning, working, reading, watching movies, and chatting with Deckard when he was free. On weekends, I’d spend time with Xaviera, finding solace in her company. These routines became my lifeline, helping me cope with the pain of loss.

When I broke the news of my move to Xaviera, her emotions got the better of her, and she dissolved into tears – her hormones no doubt exacerbating her distress. Despite her initial upset, she eventually understood my motivations for leaving, and I felt a pang of guilt for abandoning ber, especially since she’s pregnant and after all the unwavering support and friendship she’d shown me over the years. The thought of leaving her behind was difficult to swallow, but I held onto the hope that I’d be able to visit her frequently, and that our distance wouldn’t diminish our friendship,

With my impending departure coming, Xaviera was determined to make the most of our time together, essentially getting her fill of memories to sustain her during my absence. A few days later as we sat down for lunch at a restaurant, I adjusted the bags of maternity clothes she’d purchased in a corner of our table.

“Should I get my hair trimmed?” I asked Xaviera, seeking her opinion. I’d always been hesitant to make any major changes to my hair, especially when it came to the length – I’d only ever tweaked the front, never daring to take that plunge and go for a shorter style.

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