Bullied and Dumped, But She Won in the End (Adriana) novel Chapter 169

**When Time Tried to Heal Me But I Refused to Listen by Kael Niro Senn**
**Chapter 169: Back Home**

Irene found herself caught in a seemingly endless cycle of attempts to mend the rift between her nephew and his uncle. Each effort she made only seemed to ignite the flames of their stubbornness further. It was as if pride had wrapped around them like an iron cage, locking them in their own worlds where neither would yield an inch.

Curtis, with his unwavering resolve, refused to acknowledge the existence of his uncle. Meanwhile, Gary stood firm in his denial, adamant that Curtis was not his nephew. Their relationship was not merely strained; it was frigid—colder than the most indifferent of strangers.

Irene recalled a particular business gala where the two had been present. It was a sight to behold, yet utterly disheartening. They didn’t clash; they didn’t even exchange a single word. Instead, they maintained a deafening silence, each treating the other as if they were invisible. The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy weight that eclipsed any potential for reconciliation.

Adriana had been curious about the dynamic between the two men on more than one occasion. Each time she opened her mouth to inquire, the words seemed to lodge themselves in her throat, silencing her curiosity.

Forget it, she thought to herself, shaking her head. It was evident that both men desired to bury the subject deep and leave it there.

As Gary dropped Adriana off at her building, he departed with Irene, leaving her with a warm sense of belonging. Irene had taken her under her wing, treating her with a kindness that felt almost familial. She had handed Adriana her contact information, a list of her favorite restaurants, and even a bag filled with delicious snacks.

It was as if Irene saw her as a cherished child, and Adriana couldn’t help but beam with joy. There was something about Irene’s presence that made everything feel right, like the sun breaking through a dreary winter sky.

Her time spent in Neocoralis had been the brightest chapter in her life for as long as she could remember. She had forged new friendships, connected with industry peers, and finally felt like she belonged to something genuine and fulfilling.

But above all, it was her relationship with Irene that she cherished the most.

Since Curtis had entered her life, everything seemed to shift for the better. It was as if fate had finally decided to smile upon her, showering her with blessings she had long thought were out of reach.

“Adriana.” The sound of her name pulled her from her thoughts, causing her to halt mid-step. She turned, her heart sinking at the sight before her.

Belinda was crouched by her door, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, looking utterly defeated. Her eyes were swollen and red, streaks of dried tears marking her cheeks like a map of her distress.

“What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” Adriana rushed toward her, concern flooding her voice.

Belinda shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can I stay here for a few days?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Adriana replied, “Of course. Come inside.” She gently helped Belinda to her feet and led her into the comforting confines of her home. “How’s your mom doing? Is she still feeling okay?”

“She’s fine,” Belinda murmured, her throat sounding raw and strained.

Then, with a hesitant lift of her gaze, she asked, “Adriana… is it true? Are you really pregnant?”

Adriana felt a wave of emotion wash over her. She glanced down for a fleeting moment before giving a small, affirmative nod. “Yeah. It’s true.”

The prospect of motherhood was both strange and beautiful, an overwhelming sensation that felt surreal and dreamlike.

Belinda’s gaze was locked onto Adriana’s belly, her expression frozen in a mix of awe and disbelief.

Adriana’s mind raced back to her mother’s chilling words. “Get close to her. Wait until she’s near the stairs. Then push. One shove. One fall. The baby gone.”

“Adriana,” Belinda said suddenly, her tone flat and devoid of emotion. “Were you always on your own? Were you always an orphan?”

Adriana’s hand stilled mid-pour, the glass of water trembling slightly in her grasp. She hesitated, memories flooding her mind before she finally nodded. “Yeah. I was left outside an orphanage the day I was born.”

Belinda lifted the glass to her lips, swallowing hard. The water felt bitter, as if it carried the weight of their shared pain.

“I got adopted twice when I was a teenager,” Adriana continued, her voice steady despite the memories that threatened to unravel her. “But both times, they sent me back.”

Belinda blinked, confusion etched across her features. “Why would they do that?”

“Belinda,” Adriana said softly, “you’ve got your own life. Don’t let her take it from you. She already ruined herself. Don’t let her ruin you too.”

With that, Adriana turned and began to descend the stairs slowly, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation.

In a moment of panic, Belinda reached out, her hands grasping at Adriana. But in her desperation, she pushed too hard. The instant she felt the push, her heart plummeted.

She hadn’t meant to do it.

She never wanted this. But Cynthia’s cries had haunted her relentlessly, the guilt and pleading echoing in her mind, urging her to act.

Adriana’s body struck the stairs with a sickening thud. A sharp crack rang out, slicing through the air like a knife. Pain erupted within her like a storm, and her vision blurred as darkness began to consume her.

Belinda froze, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Then, a scream tore from her throat, a raw sound that shattered the silence of the house. She stumbled forward, dropping to her knees beside Adriana, her hands trembling as she fumbled for her phone.

“Adriana! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she cried, her voice breaking as she sobbed, the weight of her actions crashing down around her.

Her fingers shook so violently that she struggled to press the numbers, tears streaming down her face in a relentless flow.

Harborton.

Curtis stepped through the door, and Harold was already waiting, his expression grim and his tone sharp as he spoke. “Your father—”

But Curtis didn’t even pause. He turned on his heel, intent on walking away, unwilling to engage.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me!” Harold’s voice snapped through the room, filled with urgency and frustration.