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Chapter 19: Morning
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2024-06-15 08:10:23Anastasia's POV
The morning light pierced through the curtains. My head felt like a melon that had been dropped from a ten-story building. With a groan, I pried open one eye, then the other, squinting at the harsh numbers glowing on the bedside clock: 10:00 am.
“Ugh,” I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut again in a desperate attempt to escape the throbbing pain behind them.
Just the thought of sitting up sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me. Ignoring the dull ache blooming in my lower back, I attempted to rise anyway, only to be met with a white-hot spike of pain in my head that had me flopping back down onto the pillows with a whimper.
That’s when Susan materialized in the doorway, a tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup held carefully in her hands. “Good morning, Miss Anastasia,”
“Ugh, Susan. I slept in so late. I can’t believe it’s already ten.”
“You should drink this, Miss,” she said gently, plac
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The Unwanted Wife Chapter 180: Atticus Montreal
The sun was already high when we finally stepped out of the dining room. The air carried the scent of blooming gardenias that Phoenix had insisted on planting near the porch. Atticus, of course, was a burst of energy—racing down the steps like the morning air had caffeine in it.“Bye, Aunt Phee!” he called over his shoulder, waving dramatically.“Bye kiddo!” Phoenix waved at him.The driver opened the door, and Atticus scrambled in, settling into the window seat like he did every morning. He carefully placed his school folder on his lap, adjusting it with the kind of seriousness.“Mom,” he said, eyes furrowed in that way that always reminded me of Regan — sharp, focused. “Can you check if I answered the last question correctly?”“Of course,” I said, reaching for the folder and flipping it open.I skimmed through his math worksheet and smiled, ruffling his hair gently. “You got it right.”Atticus grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 179: New Life
Steam curled gently in the bathroom air as I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around myself. The mirror was fogged over, which was fine — I didn’t really need to look at myself too long this morning. I already knew what I’d see.Short dark brown hair freshly trimmed just last week. It barely grazed my shoulders now, no longer the long waves I used to have. It framed my face more sharply — stronger jaw, clearer cheekbones. A little grown-up, a little tougher. Maybe even freer. Ava said it made me look cool. I said it made me look like a tired mom. Both were true.When I wiped a stripe across the glass, my eyes stared back at me — that same deep green, sharp even on my softest days. Sometimes I thought they were the best and worst part of me. Honest, even when I didn’t want them to be.I padded into my walk-in closet, towel still wrapped around me, pulling open the drawers with muscle memory. I didn’t want anything too formal — just e
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 178: New Beginnings
Sydney, Australia — 7 years later…….Anastasia Saavedra Montreal’s POVA shriek sliced through the room, loud and panicked.“Moooom! It’s 7:42!”A thud followed. Then the sound of scrambling limbs — hurried, chaotic, and far too energetic for this ungodly hour. “We have a spelling quiz today! Or music! I think it’s both!”I cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. Sunlight stabbed through the curtain. I groaned and tried to roll over — only to be met with a tiny elbow to the face and a five-year-old climbing over me like I was part of the furniture.“Why are you here again?” I croaked. “Didn’t we talk about beds? As in, your bed?”Atticus, already sitting upright and adjusting the buttons on his pajama top, blinked at me. “We watched the dog movie, and you said I could stay with you. Remember?”“That was Friday night.”“Well, technically, you didn’t say I had to stop.”I buried my face in the pillow. “Why do I even bother arguing before seven in the morning?”Suddenly, he sh
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 177: Author's Note
Author’s Note:First, thank you so much for reading and loving the first book of Anastasia Del Valle. Writing this story was a rollercoaster of emotions — and I’m incredibly grateful you came along for the ride.Some of you might feel frustrated or even hate Anastasia and Regan or the characters. But in writing this story, I wanted to show how complicated people can be, how uncertain we are when faced with pain, love, and choices. I want my characters to grow.Regan Del Valle loved one woman from the start. Anastasia’s arrival in his life was unexpected, and he never imagined he could fall in love with her. But when he saw his first love again, his mind was programmed to believe he still loved her. It became a battle between his heart and his mind. His journey is about the painful consequences of denial — of realizing too late, of being a coward when it mattered most.Anastasia Montreal was someone who gave her whole heart to one man — her husband. She believed that love meant staying
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 176: Regan
My voice cracked on the last word. I swallowed hard, trying to hold myself together, but my throat burned with everything I’d been choking back for months.“I’m sorry.”My breath hitched. My fingers curled tighter around the picture.“I’m sorry I didn’t choose you sooner. I’m sorry you had such a coward for a husband. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I broke you.”I looked down at her frozen smile, my thumb brushing the edge of the photo like she’d feel it somehow. I held it gently, carefully, afraid even now to damage the only piece of her I had left.“I let you believe you weren’t enough…” My chest heaved, “When the truth was… I wasn’t.”A tear rolled down my cheek. And then another. My shoulders shook, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts as the weight of it all came crashing down.“I kept telling you to leave. Over and over. I thought it made me noble. Thought I was protecting you by pushing you away. But I was just afraid.”A bitter laugh slipped through my teeth, strangled b
The Unwanted Wife Chapter 175: Regan
I leaned back, eyes tracing the ceiling blankly as I reached for the bottle again. My hand trembled slightly. The glass clinked softly against my teeth as I drank, not even bothering to taste it anymore. Just burning my throat. Then the blur took over.I don’t remember when I fell asleep—only that it was still afternoon and I woke up hours later with a stiff neck, a pounding headache, and the bottle still half-full in my lap. My hand reached for my phone without thinking. Muscle memory. A habit I hadn’t shaken, even when I knew it never brought what I wanted. I unlocked it and opened the voicemail inbox.There were several. I hit play. First was Ella’s voice—anxious, rapid, trying not to sound panicked.“Regan… hey. I—I don’t mean to bother you, but the funding pulled out this morning. We can’t meet the supplier requirements. I was hoping… if there’s anything you can do... just call me back, okay?”I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Next were messages from old friends. One after the other.“Bro, I
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