After Rejection Divorced Luna Becomes A Famous Doctor (Hailey and Dominic) novel Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN–1

HAILEY

The sun was warm on my skin, but I still felt a chill run down my spine as I looked around the open

courtyard where rows of students sat in matching caps and gowns.

My fingers trembled slightly as they curled around Liam’s tiny hand, his little chubby legs swinging happily

in his seat next to me. He had just turned one last week, all round cheeks and toothy grins, completely

unaware of the importance of the day.

I blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall.

I had made it.

A year ago, I was wheeled out of an exam hall mid labor, my dreams bleeding into the cold hospital tiles.

I’d cried that night, holding Liam close, thinking everything was over. That my future was lost, and the

sacrifices I’d made, the pain I’d endured, meant nothing because I never even got to finish that paper.

But somehow… somehow I’d clawed my way back.

I retook the exams, passed every single one with flying colors. Despite being a new mom with no family, no support system, and nothing to fall back on, I had gotten my doctorate. Despite the whispers, the eye rolls, the comments like “She’s just a single mom” or “She won’t finish.” I had submitted my thesis, defended it, and walked out of that room with my head held high and a certificate in my hand that proved I was more than every limitation that had ever been placed on me.

Doctor Hailey Anderson.

It felt surreal.

They called my name, and the world paused.

“Hailey Anderson.”

The applause that followed echoed in my ears like a dream. A soft gasp left my lips. My body stood up before my brain could process it. I lifted Liam onto my hip and began walking toward the stage, every step

heavier than the last.

I could feel the heaviness of every sleepless night, every insult I endured from arrogant managers and bitter old people while working part time jobs just to pay for diapers and formula. Every insult from patients who looked down on me just because I was young, tired, and had a child strapped to my back.

I climbed the steps slowly. My heart thudded with a mix of pride, grief, and something that felt dangerously close to joy. Liam nestled into me, his small hands tugging at the edge of my cap.

presence grounded me.

The dean smiled warmly as he handed me my diploma. “You’ve earned this,” he said.

His

APTER SEVEN I

I took it with both hands, holding back the sob that rose in my throat. My lips quivered as I whispered a

silent “Thank you.”

I turned to the crowd, diploma in one hand, Liam on the other.

Everyone clapped.

But in that moment, I felt something else entirely, loneliness.

My parents weren’t there to see it. My mother, who used to braid my hair before school while humming

lullabies. My father, who believed I could grow up to be a doctor even when I struggled through biology in high school.

They were gone. Both of them were taken before I could make good on the dreams they had for me. They should have been there in the crowd, clapping, shouting my name. But all I had was an empty chair in my heart, and a child who had no idea what I had just survived. Dominic wasn’t there either, and part of me was relieved. The other part, the scarred, bitter part still grieved for the man I once believed would walk this path with me. He had vanished from my life before Liam was even born. He hadn’t even called.

But’I had Liam.

And sometimes, one person is enough.

Even if it’s a one year old who couldn’t even form a proper sentence yet, who babbles nonsense and claps when the wind blows through his hair. Even if he can’t understand why I cry when he smiles at me. His presence filled the empty spaces in my chest where love used to live. He didn’t need to say I love you. I saw it every time he reached for me with sticky fingers. Every time he fell asleep on my chest like I was the safest place in the world. That was love. Pure. Undeniable. Unshakable.

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CHAPTER SEVEN 2

CHAPTER SEVEN–2

And I would make sure he never went without it.

I would work, day and night if I had to. I would pay off every loan, every cent of debt I had piled up over the years. I would get us a real place, an apartment with a working heater and enough space for Liam to run through without hitting his head on the kitchen counter. I would buy him his first bed. His first books. I would decorate his room with stars and moons and lullabies, and I would teach him that no matter how messy the world got, he would always have me.

Because I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was building.

I stepped off the stage, my eyes blurry and my heart swollen. I had accepted a truth a long time ago: couldn’t rewrite the past. I couldn’t bring my parents back from the dead. I couldn’t reverse Dominic’s betrayal. I couldn’t make him regret the choices he made. And I certainly couldn’t make him love me.

But I could fight for my life.

For Liam’s life.

And I was going to.

Gone were the days I begged the world to be kind to me. Gone were the nights I cried over lost love. I had cried enough tears to fill oceans. Now, I was ready to swim in them, build ships from my pain, and sail

forward.

After working soul sucking jobs for people who spat on me, humiliated me, told me I’d never make it as a single mom, I finally had something to show for it. My degree wasn’t just a certificate. It was a battle scar. A symbol of survival.

Tomorrow, I had an interview lined up at a hospital in the city. A real opportunity. A real job. I’d be wearing a lab coat, not a waitress apron. I’d be saving lives, not begging for mine to matter.

I was done being the girl who needed saving.

I was the savior now.

Even if I was a divorced and mateless werewolf and ex Luna with a past that reeked of shame and heartbreak, I still deserved more. And I would make sure I got it. Not from anyone else, but from myself.

No one would give me anything.

So I would take it.

The life I wanted. The security I needed. The future I owed my son.

The crowd began to disperse as names continued to echo through the speaker. I stayed seated with Liam

on my lap, just… breathing.

I looked down at his face that had gone from looking like me to being a painful reminder that he was his

Clam

CHAPTER SEVEN 7

father’s son, his eyes wide and curious as they followed a butterfly dancing through the air. He reached out to it, giggling as it fluttered away.

“You see that?” I whispered, brushing my thumb across his cheek. “That’s how we’re gonna be. Flying.”

He didn’t understand. But one day, he would.

One day, when he’s older, and he asks about his father, I will tell him the truth. That his father was a man who gave me the gift of him, but nothing else. And that I was the one who stayed. Who fought. Who loved

him when no one else would.

He wouldn’t remember those nights when I had to choose between baby food and bus fare. He wouldn’t know the days I walked in the rain just to get to class on time. But I would remember. And I would make sure his future would never know that kind of struggle.

Because I refused to let the cycle continue.

Because I was done waiting for life to get better. I was making it better.

Go hard or go home.

And I was already home, anywhere Liam was, was home.

But now, it was time to go hard.

Hard like the job I was going to get. Hard like the hours I’d put in during my residency. Hard like the battles

I’d keep fighting, against poverty, against sexism, against the stigma of being a single mother.

There would be blood. Sweat. Tears.

But there would also be success.

And joy.

And healing.

As the ceremony ended, I walked across the campus with Liam on my hip, his head resting on my shoulder. A few graduates stopped to say congratulations, some even admired how I did it all with a baby. But they didn’t know the full story. They didn’t see the nights I cried myself to sleep. They didn’t hear the whispers from classmates who doubted me, the professors who gave me that look, the ones that said ”

you won’t make it.”

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