Chapter 7—RUNNING FROM THE PAST.

BREA

“Doctor Brea?”

I blinked.

A nurse was standing a few feet away from me, watching me with concern. I had no idea how long I had been standing there. The operating theatre doors had already closed, and the medical team had taken Michael's son inside, but somehow my feet still refused to move.

“Are you alright?” she asked gently.

I forced a smile.

“Yes. I'm fine.”

She didn't look convinced. Her eyes moved over my face, and she lifted a hand as though she wanted to point at something before stopping herself. Instead, she touched her own cheek.

I frowned.

Then I felt something warm slide down my face.

I raised my fingers to my cheek and stared at the moisture on them.

“Oh.”

The realization embarrassed me.

I quickly wiped my face and gave her another awkward smile.

“That? Something must have gotten into my eyes.”

The nurse's expression softened.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Excuse me.”

I turned before she could ask another question and walked away.

I made it to my office before the tears returned.

The moment I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it and shut my eyes.

I couldn't stay.

I couldn't stand in this hospital pretending that everything was normal when my entire past had just walked through the doors and looked me in the eyes.

My breathing became uneven.

Michael.

Even thinking his name made something inside my chest ache.

I had spent five years trying not to remember him.

Five years convincing myself that whatever we had shared belonged to another lifetime, another version of me who no longer existed.

Yet one look at him had been enough to prove how fragile that lie was.

I walked toward my desk and reached for my handbag. My car keys were lying beside my computer, exactly where I had left them that morning.

That morning, I had arrived at work thinking about surgery.

About Blake.

And abbout the ordinary responsibilities of my life.

I hadn't expected the past to find me.

I hadn't expected to see the man I had once loved more than anything in the world standing in the middle of my hospital with another child bleeding in his arms.

And perhaps that was what hurt the most.

Because there had been a time when Michael had been the safest place in my world.

The memory came without warning.

I was twenty-three again, standing beneath the lights of the Nightshade Pack's welcoming ceremony, trying to look composed while secretly wondering why the Alpha's son kept staring at me.

When he finally approached me that evening, his smile had been so warm that I immediately forgot every warning I'd heard about how serious and intimidating he could be.

“You're Brea, aren't you?”

I had looked at him carefully.

“And you're Michael.”

He laughed.

“So you've heard of me.”

“Everyone has.”

“Hopefully nothing bad.”

“Not yet.”

His laughter had filled the garden, and despite myself, I had smiled.

That was how it began.

Not with some grand declaration or dramatic moment, but with a conversation beneath the night sky that neither of us knew would become the beginning of everything.

I opened my eyes.

The memory faded, but the ache remained.

I remembered how carefully he had courted me afterward, how he had learned the smallest things about me and remembered them when I had forgotten them myself. I remembered the way he used to look at me as though he couldn't believe the Moon Goddess had chosen him to love me.

For a while, I had believed I was the luckiest woman alive.

And I had every reason to believe it.

Even when the years passed without a child, Michael had made me feel as though I was enough.

That memory hurt more than I expected.

I had spent three years waiting for a baby, and every month that passed without one had taken a little piece of my confidence. The elders had begun whispering. Women in the territory had started looking at me differently. Some pitied me, while others quietly wondered what was wrong with me.

I remembered coming home one evening after another painful conversation with the healers.

I had barely made it into our bedroom before the tears came.

“Maybe I'm the problem,” I had whispered against Michael's chest.

His arms had tightened around me immediately.

“Don't ever say that again.”

“But what if I can't give you a child?”

He had pulled away just enough to look into my eyes.

“I married you because I love you, Brea. Not because I needed you to give me an heir.”

I had searched his face.

“You really mean that?”

“I mean every word.”

He kissed my forehead and held me until my tears stopped.

“We'll keep trying if you want to. If it doesn't happen, then we'll face that together.”

Together.

That word had stayed with me for years.

It was the word that had made his betrayal impossible to understand.

I sat down heavily in my chair.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.

How could the same man who had once told me that we would face everything together become the man who would stand before me and call me barren?

I closed my eyes again, and another memory surfaced.

It was almost laughable now.

Our first and only serious quarrel had started over something so insignificant that I could barely remember what it was. One of the elders had interfered in our private affairs, Michael had defended his position, and I had accused him of allowing the council too much influence over our marriage.

Neither of us had wanted to apologize.

We had spent the entire evening on opposite sides of the bedroom, refusing to speak.

But sometime after midnight, I woke up to find Michael standing beside the bed with a tray in his hands.

I stared at him sleepily.

“What are you doing?”

“I brought you breakfast.”

“At midnight?”

He had smiled sheepishly.

“I couldn't wait until morning.”

I had tried so hard not to laugh but failed.

He sat beside me, apologized, and pulled me into his arms.

“I hate fighting with you.”

“I hate it too.”

“Then let's never go to bed angry again.”

I had believed him.

God, I had believed him.

My eyes opened, and the memory of his smile dissolved into the image that had haunted me for five years.

Rhonda.

Her swollen stomach.

Michael kneeling before her.

His hands resting tenderly against the child she carried and his lips pressing against her stomach with such tenderness in his eyes.

I covered my mouth as another sob escaped.

That was what I couldn't understand.

If our marriage had been unhappy, perhaps I could have understood.

If he had told me he no longer loved me, perhaps I could have hated him and moved on.

But he hadn't.

He had told me he loved me while secretly sleeping with my best friend.

Rhonda had sat beside me while I cried about not being able to conceive. She had allowed me to comfort her through her pregnancy. She had looked me in the eyes and told me the father of her child was another man.

And I had believed her.

I had defended her.

I had trusted her.

Then I walked into my own bedroom and discovered that the man she had lied about was my husband.

The worst part wasn't even the betrayal.

It was what came afterward.

The rejection.

I pressed a trembling hand against my stomach.

And all those years ago, while he was rejecting me for another woman's child, I had been carrying his.

Our son.

The child he had never known existed.

A fresh wave of tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I can't do this.”

My voice broke.

I stood abruptly.

I couldn't stay in this hospital.

Not today.

Maybe not tomorrow either.

I grabbed my handbag, slipped my car keys inside, and reached for my phone.

My fingers trembled as I opened my email.

I knew I couldn't simply disappear without informing my superior, especially after what had happened in the emergency room.

I typed slowly.

Dear Dr. Knox,

I paused for a moment before continuing.

I would like to request a few days off from my annual leave due to an urgent personal matter that requires my immediate attention. I apologize for the short notice and any inconvenience this may cause. I will ensure that all necessary responsibilities are handed over appropriately and will return as soon as possible.

I read it twice before sending it.

Then I switched off my phone.

No calls.

No questions.

No explanations.

I needed to get Blake.

I left the hospital and drove toward his school, but the tears continued to fall despite everything I did to stop them.

I kept wiping my face, yet every time I blinked, I saw Michael again.

His face when he recognized me.

The confusion in his eyes.

The shock.

I wondered if he remembered that day.

If he remembered what he had done.

If he had ever wondered where I went after he rejected me.

I wondered if he had ever thought about me at all.

Then I forced myself to stop.

It didn't matter.

Whatever Michael thought now, it couldn't change the past.

It couldn't change the years I had spent raising Blake alone.

It couldn't change the nights I had cried while pretending I was fine.

And it certainly couldn't change the fact that I had finally built a life without him.

By the time I reached Blake's school, I had made my decision.

I was leaving for a while.

I didn't know where yet.

I didn't know for how long.

I only knew I needed distance.

I walked into the school office and explained that I needed to pick up my son. A few minutes later, Blake came running down the hallway with his backpack bouncing against his little shoulders.

“Mummy?”

He stopped in front of me and looked around.

“You came early.”

I crouched down and kissed his forehead.

“I did.”

His expression immediately became suspicious.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, sweetheart.”

“Are you sick?”

I shook my head.

“I just want us to go somewhere for a few days.”

His eyes brightened.

“Where?”

“You'll know when we get there.”

He considered that answer.

“How long will we be there?”

I smiled sadly.

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“No.”

He seemed satisfied with that and took my hand.

“Okay.”

I kissed his forehead again.

“Let's go home and pack.”

We drove home, and the moment we entered the house, I went upstairs and began pulling clothes from the wardrobe.

“Where are we going, Mummy?” Blake asked from the doorway.

“I told you, you'll know when we get there.”

“But how do you know what clothes to pack if you don't know where we're going?”

I stopped and looked at him.

For the first time that day, a genuine laugh escaped me.

“You're right. We'll pack for a few days and figure out the rest later.”

He immediately began listing everything he wanted to bring.

His dinosaur.

His blue shoes.

His football.

I let him choose while I packed his clothes and a few things for myself.

When my phone came back on, dozens of notifications appeared at once.

I ignored them.

Instead, I opened Amelia's chat.

I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll be back at work soon.

I sent the message and switched the phone back to silent.

“Mummy?”

I looked up.

Blake was watching me curiously.

“Who are you texting?”

“Aunty Amelia.”

“Is she coming with us?”

I smiled.

“No. She's in surgery right now. She doesn't know we're traveling, but when she finishes, she'll see my message.”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

He returned to packing his dinosaur.

I watched him for a moment.

Then I looked around the room.

This was my home.

My safe place.

The life I had built after Michael destroyed the one I thought would last forever.

And now, because he had walked back into my world, I was packing it all up again.

I didn't know where we were going.

I didn't know how long we would stay away.

But I knew one thing.

I couldn't let Michael find a way back into my heart.

Not when I had spent five years learning how to live without him.