Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 24

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Chapter 24

Kira’s Perspective

“Nothing happened,” Rocco mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep and rough around the edges. “I was just drunk.”

A sharp pain clenched my chest so tightly it became difficult to draw a full breath. Why did I even allow myself to care anymore? Just last night, he had called me his Luna, and foolishly, I had let a flicker of something stir inside me—hope, maybe, or relief. Whatever it was, it now twisted painfully within me.

“Right,” I whispered, quietly slipping out of bed.

My legs wobbled beneath me, weak and unsteady like jelly, but I bit the inside of my cheek to steel myself and forced my steps forward. The last thing I wanted was for him to see how badly I was unraveling—how the treatments were slowly consuming me from within. My wolf, my fierce protector, was fading away.

The bathroom beckoned like a refuge, a place where I could steal a moment’s breath away from his gaze. I closed the door behind me and immediately sank against it, releasing a shaky, uneven breath.

Stupid. So stupid. What had I expected? That one drunken whisper of tenderness meant something? That he would wake up and suddenly stop hating me?

I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back. Pale, drained skin. Hollow, haunted eyes. When had I started to look like a ghost? I splashed cold water onto my face, hoping to jolt some life back into my features. My hands trembled as I reached for a towel.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slammed open with a loud bang against the wall, making me jump as if I’d been shocked.

“Jesus!” My heart pounded wildly against my ribs. “What are you—”

“Don’t close doors,” Rocco growled, filling the doorway with his broad shoulders. His eyes, now clear and sharp, held a dangerous intensity. “Don’t try to run.”

Before I could respond, his phone rang, cutting through the tension like a knife. Kim’s ringtone. Of course it was Kim. A bitter knot twisted in my stomach, a mixture of relief and resentment churning inside me.

I watched the conflict play across Rocco’s face as the phone kept ringing. His eyes flicked between me and the screen, his jaw tightening. For a moment, he looked almost… torn.

“Let me leave,” I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before fear could silence them. “Let’s get a divorce. I’m really… I’m so tired, Rocco.”

The phone continued its shrill, persistent ringing, but he made no move to answer. The muscle in his jaw twitched with tension.

“Let me go,” I pleaded softly, barely above a whisper. “I won’t interfere with you and Kim’s life.” I swallowed hard, hating the weakness in my voice. “You can have your perfect family with her. And I could…” My voice faltered.

A shadow darkened his face. His eyes narrowed, and I knew immediately I had struck a nerve. He was thinking of Lucas—of the idea of us together.

“The divorce happens when I say it happens.” His voice was low and cold as he stepped forward, pressing me against the cold tile wall. His fingers gripped my chin, tilting my face up until I met his fierce gaze. “As long as your life isn’t worse than death itself, why would I let you go?”

My blood chilled to ice. He meant it. He truly wanted me to suffer.

Without another word, he turned and strode out, finally answering Kim’s call.

My legs gave out beneath me, and I slid down the wall until I was seated on the floor. My hands shook so badly I had to clutch them tightly. What the hell was wrong with him?

The following days blurred into one another. I lacked the strength to argue with Rocco or even leave the house. Dominic—bless his heart—made sure I ate properly, bringing me high-protein meals and fresh vegetables, everything my deteriorating body desperately needed.