The Alpha Who Never Loved Me (Serena and Kieran) novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Serena

The airport doors slid open; the heat rushed at me and stuck to my skin, the city reclaiming me before my feet touched the curb.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and Sophie’s number filled the screen.

I picked up.

“There’s no reason for you to come back.” Her voice was sunshine over poison. “Just have the divorce documents sent over. Don’t bother coming in person.” A beat passed. “And don’t try to steal Kieran from me. It’s impossible.”

My jaw tightened. “Kieran isn’t the reason I’m coming back.”

“You’re really back?”

“What I do isn’t your concern, Sophie.” I waved down a cab, yanked the door open, and tossed my bag across the backseat. “If you want to be useful, spend your ergy2:46 convincing Kieran to sign the papers. That’s the only way

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you’ll ever be happy.” I climbed in and pulled the door shut. “You’re stressing yourself over things that don’t involve you. My life is my business. If I choose to come, it’s my business. If I choose not to, also my business. Focus on what concerns you and stop all of this.”

Her mouth opened on the other end; I heard the intake of breath, the beginning of a word.

“I don’t want to hear from you again.”

I killed the call and gave the driver my parents’ address.

My mother was already at the door when the cab pulled away from the curb. My father stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, his frame filling the narrow doorway.

I stepped onto the porch and my mother’s gaze dropped to my stomach; her hands flew to her mouth, her fingers. pressing into her own lips, and the cry that came out of her was a sound I’d never heard her make before.

She closed the distance between us and her arms locked

around me; her body shaking against mine, her tears wetting the collar of my shirt.

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She whispered my baby is having a baby into my hair, over and over, until the words weren’t words anymore, just vibrations against my scalp.

My father’s arms came around both of us and the three of us stood on that porch and I buried my face in my mother’s neck and breathed her in, soap and ginger and home.

There was no hiding the pregnancy now. My belly was round and real and my mother’s hands were on it and I couldn’t take any of it back.

I had to get the divorce done. I had to stay away from

Kieran.

My mother pulled back, wiped her face with both palms, and guided me through the door.

She didn’t look well. The shadows beneath her eyes ran deep and her posture carried a slump.

“Kieran told me you were getting worse.” I sat down and searched her face. “He said your sickness was worsening. That’s one of the reasons I came back.”

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My mother shook her head. “I’ve been on medication for

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a while, but it isn’t as bad as he made it sound.” She patted my knee. “You didn’t need to rush here for me.”

The knot in my chest loosened by a fraction and I let the breath go. “What about Josh?”

My parents’ eyes met across the room.

“He came back,” my father said. “He left the school. He doesn’t want to stay anywhere Kieran is paying tuition.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He told us he wanted to be free, that he didn’t want anything connecting him to Kieran anymore.”

The floor tilted beneath my feet; my ribs caved inward and the ache spread through my chest.

“Where is he now?”

“He went to pick something up,” my mother said. “Sit down, relax, eat. He’ll be back soon.”

I sank into the sofa and my body gave in to the exhaustion it’d been fighting since the plane landed. My back throbbed, my ankles were swollen, and the lpy-grade nausea pulsed behind my sternum. But my 2:46

baby was healthy. I’d gone to every checkup, followed

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every instruction, done everything the doctors asked.

The renewal of the mate bond had carried me through the hardest months, feeding strength into my blood when my body couldn’t produce enough on its own. Kieran gave me that without knowing what it was for, and I’d carry the debt of it in silence.

He couldn’t find out about this baby.

If possible, he never would.

Josh walked through the door during dinner and his face. cracked open when he saw me. He crossed the kitchen in three strides and his arms wrapped around me and I gripped the back of his shirt and pressed my forehead into his shoulder; he was taller, his frame broader, his heartbeat a drum against my cheek.

The four of us sat down and ate together and for one hour

the world outside didn’t exist.

My phone buzzed against the table.

Come outside. I want to talk.

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Sophie.

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If I ignored her, she’d bang on the door and drag my family into whatever performance she’d rehearsed on the drive over. But going out there meant she’d see my stomach; the thought sent a cold thread through my veins.

“Who is it?” my mother asked.

“Nobody.” I pushed my chair back. “I’ll be right back.”

“Serena, stay.”

“It’ll be quick.”

I walked outside and shut the door behind me.

Sophie stood on the sidewalk beneath the streetlamp and my stride faltered.

She was a different woman. Her nose was narrower, her cheekbones carved higher, her eyes reshaped into a wider, rounder frame. Cosmetic work, fresh and obvious, buried beneath layers of makeup.

Designer labels covered her from throat to ankle, stacked gn top of each other, bags and belts and shoes screaming

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two full seconds and then the rage flooded in and her hand came up.

I didn’t move; my feet stayed planted and my chin stayed

raised.

“Do you want to hit a pregnant woman?” I held her eyes. “Do you know what’ll happen when Kieran finds out I’m

rrying his child and you slapped me?”

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