Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76

“I’m sorry,” Marissa said quietly, once I’d handed her the glass, her hands shaking as she took it. “I know I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t even know why I did, except that I couldn’t think of anywhere else. Your mother’s kind, and Damon’s been kind lately too, and I just-I panicked, and my feet just carried me here.”

“It’s okay,” I said, settling carefully into the chair across from her, still maintaining distance. “You’re safe right now. We’re going to figure out what happens next, but you’re safe.”

She looked up at me, something fragile and grateful crossing her tear-streaked face. “You’re being kind to me. After everything. I don’t understand why.”

“Because you’re clearly not well right now,” I said honestly. “Whatever happened between us, whatever you did, that doesn’t change the fact that you need help, not judgment, in this exact moment.”

Tears spilled fresh down her face at that, and she pressed a trembling hand against her mouth, some

overwhelming emotion clearly breaking through whatever fragile control she’d been holding onto during the walk

here.

“I keep thinking about everything,” she said, voice thick with tears. “Everything I did to you, to Damon, and now Hazel’s growing up without me properly there because I can’t even manage my own mind well enough to be trusted around her. I don’t know how to fix any of it.”

“You start by getting the actual help you need,” I said gently. “Going back to the facility, letting the doctors actually treat whatever’s happening. That’s not giving up, Marissa. That’s the only way you actually get back to a place where you can be the mother Hazel needs.”

She nodded slowly, some of the wild panic in her eyes settling slightly into something more like exhausted resignation.

The door opened before either of us could say more, Damon stepping through quickly, his expression tight with concern as he took in the scene-Marissa on the couch, tears streaked across her face, Sarah still positioned watchfully near the entrance.

“Marissa.” He crossed the room immediately, kneeling in front of the couch, his voice gentle despite the obvious worry in his expression. “You scared everyone, running like that. Are you hurt? Did anything happen to you out there?”

“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “I just needed to see Hazel. I couldn’t stop myself from running, even though I knew it was wrong.”

“I understand,” Damon said, and I could hear the genuine sympathy in his voice despite everything. “But we need to get you back to the facility, Marissa. Properly, this time. They can’t help you if you keep running from the treatment you actually need.”

“Will you come with me?” she asked, something small and frightened in her voice. “I don’t want to go back alone.”

“I’ll come,” Damon said. “I’ll make sure they know what happened, make sure you get the support you actually need going forward.”

Marissa nodded, some of the panic finally draining from her expression, replaced by exhausted, tearful relief at having someone willing to help rather than simply judge her for the crisis she was clearly still working through.

Damon glanced toward me, something grateful and apologetic both crossing his face. “Thank you for taking care of this. For staying calm and getting Sarah involved instead of panicking.”

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“She needed help, not fear,” I said simply. “I’m glad she came here instead of somewhere less safe.”

He nodded, helping Marissa gently to her feet, and I watched them make their way toward the door, Sarah falling into step behind them, presumably to help coordinate transportation back to the facility.

“Evelyn,” Marissa said, pausing at the doorway, looking back at me with something fragile and genuine in her tear -streaked expression. “Thank you. For everything tonight. I don’t deserve this kind of kindness from you, but I’m grateful for it anyway.”

“Get better,” I said simply. “For Hazel’s sake, and for your own.”

She nodded, and Damon guided her out gently, the door closing quietly behind them, leaving me alone in the sudden stillness of the apartment, my heart still pounding slightly from the unexpected crisis.

I checked on Willow, finding her still peacefully asleep despite everything that had just unfolded on the other side of the apartment, entirely undisturbed by the chaos.

I sat down heavily in the armchair, processing everything-Marissa’s genuine, frightening instability, the complicated tangle of old resentment and unexpected compassion I’d felt watching her fall apart on my couch, the strange, unpredictable way this entire situation kept revealing new layers of crisis just when things seemed to be settling into something manageable.

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