Chapter 42

Lauren

Abigail’s small frame framed by the harsh light of window, cradle in my arms with the heart monitors beep filling out ears.

Her brown eyes, so much like mine yet holding a depth of understanding far beyond her years, something I’ve seen more in Own then my little sunshine. Her gaze was locked onto Alexander, like she was making sense of her racing thoughts. There was something different about her expression—a seriousness that made me uneasy.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Maybe you should head back with Daphne. This place isn’t exactly kid-friendly right now.”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “I wanted to talk to you, mommy. It’s important.”

The knot in my stomach tightened. Abigail wasn’t one for dramatics, but the tone of her voice told me whatever she had to say, she wasn’t tking it lightly.

I nodded and gestured toward the small hair next to Alexander’s bed. She moved silently as she sat in the too-stiff chair, watching me as I knelt infront of her. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching thin between us.

Finally, Abigail broke the quiet. “I know Alexander is my dad.”

My breath caught, and I turned to her sharply. Her words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. “Abigail…”

“Don’t, ma” she said quickly, her voice steady despite the tremor I saw in her hands. “Don’t tell me I’m too young to understand or that it’s complicated. You always say that, you know? It’s like you’re favorite word.”

“It’s not—” I tried but her gaze locked my lips as she continued.

“I’m not stupid, Mom. I’ve always known. Well not always, but I mean, I know.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. How could I explain something I’d spent years trying to bury? She looked at me with such clarity, her gaze piercing through every excuse I could muster.

“But, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “Was it because you didn’t want me to know? Or because you didn’t want him to know? What exactly happened?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I thought I was protecting you. Things with Alexander were… complicated. I didn’t want you caught in the middle of something you couldn’t understand. You’re just a child.”

“But I’m already in the middle of it,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He saved me, Mom. He risked everything for me, and now he’s lying in there, and you won’t even let me call him Dad.”

Ow.

Everything in me coiled.

I’d spent so long trying to shield her from the truth, from the pain of knowing what could never be, that I hadn’t considered how much she already knew. How much she’d been carrying on her own.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Abigail reached for my hand, her small fingers squeezing mine. “Mommy, he deserves a chance. You both do. Please don’t give up on him. On us. I know you want to leave, run away again but…”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it nearly impossible to speak.

Before I could respond, the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor made both of us look up. Sophia was striding toward us, her perfectly tailored coat billowing behind her like a cape. Her expression was a mixture of disdain and triumph, and I felt my stomach drop.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. Her gaze flicked to Abigail, then back to me. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you were… how shall I put this? Dead. Again. Or at least it should have been you, and not my Alexander.”

I stiffened, my hand instinctively tightening around Abigail’s. “Sophia, this isn’t the time.”

“Oh, but it never is,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “Alexander doesn’t need you here. He has me. And as for your daughter…” She looked down at Abigail with a cold smile. “She has no business being here either.”

Abigail bristled beside me, but I spoke before she could. “You don’t get to decide that,” I said, standing and stepping in front of my daughter. “Alexander saved her. Us.”

Sophia’s smile widened, a sharp, cruel thing. “Don’t be ridiculous. Alexander did his role as an Alpha. Not for you, but the pack. And you…” She looked me up and down, her eyes filled with disdain. “You have no place here. Dr. Ava would have no reason to see him, professionally speaking, considering his precious luna Lauren is dead, isn’t she? Right?”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You’re right,,” I said, my voice low and steady. “But you can’t rewrite history just because it’s convenient for you.”

“History?” Sophia let out a sharp laugh. “Whatever you two had is ancient history. I’m going to be his wife. I’m the one who’s been by his side, running the pack while he’s lying in that bed. You’re nothing but a ghost from his past.”

“Mom, stop,” Abigail said, tugging on my arm.

But I couldn’t stop. The years of anger, guilt, and heartbreak boiled to the surface, and I stepped closer to Sophia, my voice shaking with barely contained fury. “You can try to push me out, Sophia, but you can’t erase the truth. Alexander deserves to know about Abigail, and she deserves to know her father. You don’t get to take that away from them.”

Sophia’s eyes narrowed, “Like you apparently did for years? Hiding her from him?”

I stiffened, stopping the growl in my throat as Sophia’s her polished exterior cracked just enough for me to see the venom beneath. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family. That doesn’t include you or your daughter.”

“That’s enough!” Abigail’s voice rang out, clear and strong. She stepped between us, her small frame seeming impossibly large as she glared up at Sophia. “Stop fighting. Both of you. This isn’t about you. It’s about him.” She pointed toward the room where Alexander lay, her hand trembling. “He wouldn’t want this.”

Sophia looked taken aback for a moment, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for a response. Finally, she scoffed and turned on her heel. “I want you out in ten,” she said over her shoulder. “But don’t expect mercy from the Beta’s. Ten minutes.”

She disappeared down the hallway, her heels clicking against the tile. The silence she left behind was deafening.

I knelt down in front of Abigail, my hands on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Abigail shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I just want us to be a family,” she whispered. “Is that too much to ask?”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly as tears slipped down my cheeks. “No, baby,” I murmured. “It’s not too much to ask. And I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make it right.”