Chapter 76
[ 1,109 words ]
Emilia’s POV
I watched Scott’s taillights disappear around the corner before I turned around.
Sebastian stood there, fists clenched, face dark as a storm cloud. He looked like he was about to explode. But I didn’t care.
“Sebastian, do you know you’re weird?” I crossed my arms. “I’m nothing to you. So why are you here at midnight?”
His jaw tightened.
“Have you fallen so low?” His voice was ice. “Because you think you’re worthless?”
I laughed. “Watch your mouth. How exactly have I ’fallen’?”
He raised his hand, looked at his watch, then pointed at me. “It’s midnight. You’re at your friend’s place. Alone with another man. Being intimate. What else do you call it?”
“First of all, we weren’t intimate. Secondly, even if we were—that’s between me and him. What’s it to you?”
The veins on his forehead bulged. “So you admit it? You’re having an affair with him?”
“Oh, that’s rich.” I tilted my head. “So it’s fine if you hand me over to other men, but it’s a problem if I choose one myself?”
“You are my Luna, my wife. You should be ashamed, sneaking around behind your husband’s back and yelling at me like this!”
“You should be ashamed. You’re the one who gave your wife away.”
“Don’t use my mistake as an excuse for your own choices.” His voice dropped. Low. Mean. “The errant blood runs in your bones. Even if that night never happened, you’d still end up like this.”
The words hit me like a slap.
The errant blood runs in your bones.
Linda had said that to me a hundred times. I was used to it. But hearing it from him—that cut deeper than I expected.
I thought maybe, just maybe, this man I was married to would be different. I thought he wouldn’t look down on me like everyone else.
Stupid.
I blinked. My eyes felt hot. But I refused to let him see me cry.
“If you came here to insult me,” I said quietly, “congratulations. You did it.”
I turned and walked away.
Behind me, I heard him curse under his breath. Then footsteps. He grabbed my wrist.
“Stop.”
I didn’t look back.
“I won’t do it again.”
I stopped. Slowly, I turned. “Won’t do what?”
He swallowed. His pride was visibly choking him. “I won’t… treat you like a bet. I won’t gamble you away again.”
Something in my chest twitched. But I didn’t say anything. I just turned and kept walking.
“I’m sorry!”
His voice cut through the night. Loud. Desperate.
I froze.
Sebastian Simons. The man who never apologized. The man who would rather burn the world than admit he was wrong.
He actually said it.
My throat tightened. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I just kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Until I was gone.
Behind me, he stood there in the dark. Alone. Defeated.
The next evening, I walked back into the pack house.
I didn’t know why I came back. Maybe because Lily’s couch was getting uncomfortable. Maybe because I was tired of hiding. Maybe because his apology was still ringing in my ears.
I sat on the sofa in the living room, staring at nothing.
Then the front door opened.
Sebastian walked in.
He looked… wrecked. His hair was messy. His tie was loose. His shirt was wrinkled. His eyes were dull, like he hadn’t slept in days.
He looked up. Saw me.
And stopped.
His whole body went still. His eyes widened. And for a split second, I saw it—surprise. Relief. A flash of something like happiness.
Then he remembered who he was, and his face went neutral again.
“You’re back.”
“Obviously.”
We stared at each other for three seconds. Then I looked away.
Dinner was loud. Just like always. Tiffany talked nonstop. Mila smiled and ate. Everyone knew why I had left. No one mentioned it.
As soon as dinner ended, I went upstairs.
I sat on the bed and unwrapped the bandage on my hand. It was messy. My wrist was still sore. I grabbed the medicine bottle and tried to twist the cap open with my injured fingers.
It wouldn’t budge.
I tried again. Nothing.
“Tsk.”
I heard a cough from the door.
Sebastian was leaning against the frame. He had been standing there. Watching me struggle. I didn’t even notice.
“If you want to fight again,” I said without looking up, “I don’t have time.”
He walked in. Grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away.
“Don’t move.” His voice was gruff. But his hands were gentle. Too gentle. “I can’t watch you be this clumsy.”
I let out a sigh. “Do you have multiple personality disorder? Do you know you can drive people crazy with the way you switch?”
“Yes.”
He said it so bluntly I almost choked.
“Then why do you do it?”
“I did some serious thinking.” He focused on my hand. “I’ll try to treat you better from now on.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“I thought my actions spoke for themselves. Do I look like I’m lying?”
“I just can’t figure out why. Why the sudden change?”
He looked up at me. “Because bullying you isn’t fun anymore. It’s too much work.”
I snorted. A laugh escaped me. “It is a lot of work. You even got your face punched trying to prove your husbandly authority. By the way—do your parents know why your face looks like that?”
His eyes narrowed. “If you tell them, I take back everything I just said.”
Classic Sebastian. His pride was bigger than the moon.
He finished bandaging my hand. Then he stood up. Reached into his pocket. Pulled something out.
“Here.”
I looked down.
The bracelet. The one Mila gave me.
My eyes widened. “What is this?”
“Your wrist has a deep cut. If it leaves a scar.” He shoved it into my palm. “Wear this. Cover it up.”
I looked at the bracelet. Then at him. “So you slap me, then give me candy?”
He frowned. “This is worth more than candy.”
I didn’t say anything. But a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Over the next few days, Sebastian kept his word. He was… nicer. Still grumpy. Still sharp-tongued. But gentler. More careful.
And slowly, I started to feel lighter.
Maybe there was hope for us after all.
That afternoon, I was about to take a nap when I suddenly got a call from my uncle. He asked me to meet him.
At that moment, a bad feeling rose in my chest.
Maybe because every time my uncle looked for me, it was never anything good.
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