The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124

Chapter 124

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MAYA

I was still moving slowly, and my body made sure to remind me of it every time I rolled over too fast in bed or reached a little farther than I should. Still, that afternoon, I refused to feel sick. I wanted to feel like a woman again. I wanted to feel alive. So I stood in front of the dresser, rubbing lotion into my skin slowly, tying my hair into a loose bun, spraying perfume at my neck, my wrists, behind my ear. The familiar scent gave me the illusion of normalcy for a few seconds, and I clung to it like it was the only thing keeping me afloat.

When the bedroom door opened, my heart was already racing, because I knew the sound of his footsteps. Átila walked in, tall, flawless, carrying that presence that always filled more space than it should. But for the first time since I came home from the hospital, he didn’t walk toward me.

“You’re standing,” he said, his voice neutral, like he was stating a fact in a report.

“I am,” I said, trying to sound light. “And I smell good. Come here.”

He stopped two steps inside the doorway, his eyes moving over me quickly, but never settling anywhere.

“You shouldn’t push yourself,” he said.

“I’m not pushing anything,” I replied. “I just… wanted to see you.”

He nodded once, brief, then pulled his phone out of his pocket like something on it suddenly mattered more.

“I need to take care of a few things.”

I walked to him anyway, ignoring the pull in my back, because I needed that kiss the way I needed oxygen. I rose onto my toes and pressed my mouth to his.

He turned his face away.

The gesture was small. Polite, even. But it hurt in a way that felt enormous.

I froze, not knowing what to do with my own body for a second.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, still close. “Are you… mad at me?”.

“No,” he said too quickly. “I’m just tired.”

“Tired of me?” I blurted, the words slipping out before I could stop them

His eyes finally met mine.

“Don’t do this,” he said quietly. “Not today.”

“Then kiss me,” I insisted, because I didn’t want a conversation. I wanted my Atila back. “Just kiss me and tell me everything’s okay.”

He inhaled slowly, and for a moment I thought he might give in, but instead he lifted his hand and rested it on my shoulder like I was too fragile for anything else.

“Rest,” he said. “I’ll come back later.”

“Átila,” I called, my voice tight.

He was already walking away.

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“Goodnight.”

The door closed, and I stood there with too much perfume on my skin and not enough warmth in my chest.

In the days that followed, the distance didn’t shrink. It grew. It settled into place like a new routine, and I started counting the small things that hurt me like they were crumbs. He’d come into the room and ask about the bandage, ask if I ate, ask if I took my medication. But he stopped asking how I really was. He even stopped sleeping in our bed, using the excuse that he might hurt me.

“Does it hurt?” he’d ask, standing at a distance.

“It hurts more when you stay away,” I’d answer, trying to make him smile.

“Don’t start,” he’d say, like I was being dramatic.

“Can you lie down with me for five minutes?” I’d ask.

“Not now,” he’d reply, and “not now” always became never.

One afternoon, I tried teasing him, just to see if I could get even a flicker of warmth out of him.

“Do you still like how I smell?”

He didn’t even look up from what he was reading.

“Is this really the time for that?”

“Then what is the time for?” I asked, more irritated than I meant to sound. “Medication? Because that’s all this place seems to be about now.”

“That’s what matters,” he said. And that was it. Just that. Like I didn’t matter.

On the fourth day, I saw him in the hallway and tried something simple.

“Do you miss me?” I asked, forcing a smile I didn’t believe in myself.

He looked at me like the question was dangerous.

“I feel relief when you’re safe,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Maya,” he said, warning in his voice. “Please.”

I didn’t answer, because if I did, I’d cry, and I was tired of crying.

On the fifth day, I left the bedroom more than usual, determined to go downstairs, breathe different air, see something other than the light of my bedside lamp. That’s when I ran into Victoria.

She was standing near the staircase, wearing a pale blouse and that slow smile like she knew exactly what she did to people.

“Well, look at that,” she said, studying me. “The martyr is standing.”

“You’re still here,” I said, my stomach twisting. “With all due respect, don’t you have a home?”

“I live wherever I’m allowed to live,” she said, her eyes sliding to my ring like it was something amusing. “By the way, congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” I said through clenched teeth.

Chapter 124

She laughed softly.

“You say that like you actually run something here.”

I took a slow breath, trying to hold on to the last threads of my patience, and answered,

“I will be his wife soon. So yes. I do.”

Victoria stepped closer, completely calm.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because the way he’s been acting, you look more like a responsibility.”

The bond inside me reacted instantly, hot and furious and possessive, and I hated how real it felt.

“Say that again,” I said quietly, dangerously. “I dare you.”

“What are you going to do?” she said with a smile. “Slap me? In your condition?”

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I froze for half a second, because that was cruel. And she knew it. She walked past me slowly, her shoulder brushing mine like she was marking territory.

“Get well soon, Maya,” she murmured. “You’ll need it.”

I went back upstairs trembling, and when Langford appeared in the doorway holding a tray, I forced myself to look normal.

“You look pale, dear,” she said.

“I’m hot,” I lied.

“Would you like me to call Átila?”

“No,” I said too fast. “Don’t.”

Two more days passed, and he got worse. He started avoiding my eyes like my eyes were asking for something he couldn’t give.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” I asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t.”

“Did you hear yourself?” I pressed, hurt. “You never talk to me like that.”

His jaw tightened.

“I’m trying to do what’s best,”

“Then explain what that is,” I said. “Because right now, it feels like what’s best for you is treating me like I’m… a problem.”

“You’re not a problem.”

“Then why do I feel like one?”

He didn’t answer, and his silence always hurt more than anything he could say.

One morning, I woke up determined not to let another day pass like that. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, saw the

16:48 Tue, Apr 28

Chapter 124

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scar still sensitive, saw the dark circles that hadn’t been there before, and saw a woman who was tired of begging for love like it was charity.

“Not today.” I told my reflection, my voice hoarse. “Today I end this. One way or another.”

Downstairs, I heard the elevator doors open. He was home. I left the bedroom slowly, walked to the railing, and saw Átila crossing the living room, taking off his coat, heading straight toward his office without looking up.

I went down.

Each step felt too long, and my heart was beating too fast, but I didn’t stop. When I reached the office hallway, I heard muffled voices inside. A low, feminine laugh. And then his voice, softer than I’d heard it in days.

“Victoria…”

My body locked.

I took another step, steadying myself against the wall, and pushed the door open just enough to see.

And I saw.

Átila kissing Victoria.

Not a quick kiss. Not surprise. Not an accident. I clung to that possibility for a second, because I had misunderstood things before, because I needed it to be something else, because my heart didn’t have room for another tragedy.

This has to be a misunderstanding, I thought desperately. It has to be.

But then I saw his hand.

His hand gripping her waist tightly.

And the way his body fit against hers like he wanted to be there.

Something inside me collapsed in absolute silence, like the power had been cut from my entire body.

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