Chapter 3: In the Park
1561 Words
The park wasn't crowded. The sun felt warm on my skin, almost making me sleepy. A light breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass, and somewhere in the distance someone was barbecuing. For a moment, I almost forgot where I was.
Vivi tugged my hand and ran ahead, her ponytail bouncing. Jay chased after her, shouting, “Mommy, look how fast sister runs!” I smiled and told them to slow down, but the tension that had been wound tight inside me for five years loosened a little today.
I didn't know why. Maybe it was the good weather. Maybe it was the sound of my children's laughter drowning out the memory of that man kneeling on the floor. Or maybe I was just tired of being angry.
We found an old oak tree and sat down in its shade. The grass was soft and cool. Vivi lay on my lap, tilted her face up, and looked at me with those big, curious eyes.
“Mommy, what does Daddy look like?”
My heart began to pound wildly, chaotically.
Five years. This was the first time she had asked. Jay ran over and crouched beside us, his bright eyes fixed on me, waiting for an answer.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
Daddy… how should I describe him? That he's a bastard? That he made me fend for myself back then? That he left me to give birth alone in a basement, nearly dying on the delivery table?
No. I couldn't tell them that.
I swallowed hard and forced a small smile.
“Daddy… is very tall,” I said softly. “His eyes are amber, like the autumn moon.”
“What color is the moon?” Vivi tilted her head.
“Yellow. A warm kind of yellow.”
“Like honey?” Jay asked.
I blinked. “Yes. Like honey.”
“Then why doesn't Daddy come to see us?” Jay frowned and pressed.
I took a deep breath and pushed down the bitterness rising in my throat.
“Because… he's not ready yet.”
The kids looked at each other, nodded as if they understood, and ran off to chase pigeons.
I watched their small backs against the green grass, and a thought I'd buried for five years resurfaced: Maybe… I should let Kael see them?
No. I pinched my own palm hard. He doesn't deserve it yet. …Does he really not deserve it?
---
Seraphina stood behind a large tree, clutching a cup of coffee that had gone cold long ago.
She had been standing there for a while, hidden behind the trunk, watching the half-blood woman play with her two children. Her expression was complicated — envy, bitterness, and something she couldn't even name.
She had only come to confirm one thing: whether that woman had really given birth to Kael's children. Now she had her answer.
Those two children clearly had Kael's features. Especially the boy. The way he smiled… it was so much like her fiancé.
Suddenly she felt sick. Her stomach churned.
Not because they disgusted her. Because she was jealous.
She wanted a child too. A child with the man she loved. But he was dead. Killed in that damned struggle for the Alpha position. And all she could do now was wear a faded silver ring and look at old photos night after night.
She looked down at her flat stomach and smiled bitterly.
“If only…”
She didn't finish. Because there were no ifs. Life didn't give second chances.
She turned and walked away, her heels clicking monotonously on the stone path. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back.
The woman was crouched down, tying her little girl's shoelaces. Her movements were gentle, tender. She kissed the girl's forehead and said something, and both children laughed.
Seraphina's eyes suddenly reddened.
She thought of her own mother — the woman who had gone mad after her father died. The woman who had passed her from one “guardian” to another. The woman who, when her fiancé died, had only said, “Then you can marry Kael.”
No grief. No comfort. Just a cold, business-like tone.
“I hate you all,” Seraphina whispered to the air. “But I hate myself more.”
She walked away. This time, she didn't look back.
---
The children tired themselves out after another hour. Vivi fell asleep in my arms, her soft warm breath against my chest. Jay was still chasing a butterfly, but his steps had slowed, his energy almost gone.
I looked down at Vivi's sleeping face. Her long lashes, her slightly pouted lips, her chubby cheeks — like a little angel sent to save me from my misery.
A sudden thought hit me: If I hadn't run away back then, would my children have been bullied in that pack too? Called 'mutts' by the pure-bloods? Would they have grown up hating themselves?
I shivered, even though the sun was warm.
“No. I made the right choice.” I said it out loud, as if to convince myself. “My children don't need that pack. They have me. That's enough.”
But a small voice inside still asked: What about Kael? Can you really keep him from his children forever?
I didn't know the answer. That was what scared me most.
---
Kael sat at his desk, phone in hand, staring at a message he had edited countless times.
“Luna, I want to see you.”
Delete.
“How are the kids?”
Delete.
“I was wrong.”
Delete again.
“I'm sorry for everything.”
Delete.
He cursed under his breath and slammed the phone face-down on the polished wooden desk. It slid to the edge, almost falling off.
Five years. He commanded boardrooms, signed billion-dollar deals, ruled the pack with an iron fist. But in front of this woman, he couldn't even send a single message.
What am I afraid of? he asked himself.
Afraid she would reject him? Afraid she would curse him out? Afraid she would look at him with those cold, unforgiving eyes and say nothing?
Or afraid of something worse — that she would ask him through tears she couldn't hold back: Why didn't you believe me back then?
He closed his eyes. His mind was full of that rainy night — her kneeling on the dirt road, clutching her stomach, blood mixing with mud. And he had only stood there watching from a distance, then turned and walked away.
I'm a f*****g monster.
He opened his eyes, picked up his phone, and typed three words:
“I‘m sorry.”
Before he could second-guess himself, he hit send.
Then he tossed the phone aside as if it had burned him.
---
My phone buzzed.
I picked it up. A message from Kael.
“I’m sorry.”
Just three words.
I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. The cursor blinked, waiting.
I typed: “Sorry for what?” Then deleted it.
I typed: “The kids don‘t need your apology.” Deleted it again.
I typed: “You’re five years too late.” Almost hit send — then stopped.
What am I even doing?
I stuffed the phone back into my pocket, picked up Vivi with one arm, took Jay‘s hand with the other, and walked home.
On the way, Vivi mumbled sleepily, “Mommy… who texted you?”
“Someone… I know.”
“Is it Daddy?”
My heart clenched again.
“…No.”
I walked faster, not daring to look into her eyes. Because I was afraid of seeing disappointment in those beautiful eyes.
---
After putting the kids to bed — brushing their teeth, reading them a story, tucking them in — I sat alone on the balcony. The night was quiet. A few stars had already appeared in the sky.
My phone was still in my hand. The screen was still lit.
The message was still there.
“I’m sorry.”
Ha. If sorry could fix anything, I wouldn‘t have knelt on that dirt road crying until dawn. I wouldn’t have raised twins alone for five years. I wouldn‘t have taught myself law in a freezing basement while seven months pregnant.
But I still hadn’t deleted that message.
I didn‘t know what I was waiting for. Maybe an apology with more sincerity. Maybe a reason to convince myself to forgive him. Maybe… I just hadn’t let go yet.
I tossed the phone aside and looked up at the sky.
The first stars were blinking. Somewhere in the distance, the moon had risen.
Five years. The wounds were still there. But at least I was no longer that half-blood girl who could only cry and run. I‘ve come a long way, haven’t I? Ha. So why — of all people — can I still not harden my heart against him?
“Kael, if you really want to atone…” I spoke to the empty night air, “then show me something real. Not just three words.”
The wind answered with silence.
I stood up, stretched, and went back inside.
Tomorrow, I had court. And I had a case to win.
---
- Writer
