Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 219

Ethan pov

I could hear them before I actually saw them, the same cluster of women I'd hurt over the years apparently having relocated themselves to a bench near the courtyard, still deep in conversation with Nadia, whose expression carried increasingly hardened resolve with each passing minute.

"He told me the exact same thing about wanting something 'genuinely different' with me too," Sera was saying as I approached, her voice carrying pointed emphasis that suggested she'd specifically chosen those words to echo whatever I'd apparently already told Nadia myself. "Right before he simply stopped responding after two weeks."

"At least he waited two weeks with you," the other woman said, something bitter in her tone. "With me, it was barely nine days before he suddenly developed considerable interest in someone else entirely."

I felt anger building sharp and hot in my chest, watching them continue dissecting my previous behavior with obvious, deliberate intent to ensure Nadia understood exactly how thoroughly untrustworthy I genuinely was.

"This is exactly the pattern," Danielle added, her voice carrying quiet satisfaction now that she apparently had an audience genuinely receptive to her grievances. "He's genuinely skilled at making you feel special initially. That's precisely what makes it so devastating when he inevitably loses interest."

I understood, watching Nadia's expression grow increasingly closed and resolved, that whatever fragile consideration I might have retained after our earlier confrontation was rapidly evaporating entirely beneath this continued, methodical dismantling of my credibility.

I wanted to interrupt, to defend myself, to somehow explain that everything currently happening was fundamentally different from whatever pattern they were describing. But watching their faces, understanding the genuine pain and betrayal each of them had apparently experienced because of my own careless choices, I recognized I possessed absolutely no genuine standing to actually object to anything they were saying.

Every single word was true. That was precisely what made the anger building in my chest so genuinely uncomfortable—not fury at their unfairness, but rather furious frustration directed entirely at my own past self, understanding how thoroughly my previous carelessness had constructed exactly this devastating obstacle now standing between myself and the one connection that apparently mattered more than anything I'd previously experienced.

I turned away before any of them noticed my presence, unable to actually confront the situation directly without genuine risk of saying something I'd inevitably regret given the anger currently churning through my system.

*At this rate, she'll never actually give me any genuine chance,* I thought, making my way through the compound with increasingly heavy steps. *Every single conversation just further confirms exactly why she shouldn't trust anything I claim about being different.*

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