Once My Only, Now Just a Memory Chapter 11

Once My Only, Now Just a Memory Chapter 11

Outside the window, the rain began to fall again.

Cillian’s brow furrowed, and he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “What did you say?”

The bakery was dead silent. My manager and coworkers kept their heads down, but their eyes were wide

with shock.

I let out a soft sigh. “Let us speak elsewhere, Alpha Cillian.”

We walked to a quiet coffee shop at the corner of the street.

The moment we sat down, Cillian leaned forward. “Tell me where Lumi is. Stop playing games.”

“Don’t lie to me about her death. I secured another donor for her five years ago.”

The server set two cups of hot coffee on our table. My fingers froze against the warm porcelain.

Cillian had actually found another donor?

But Lumi still died.

She had died alone in that cold hospital room, suffering until her very last breath.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Is that so? What a shame. Lumi didn’t live to see them.”

“That is impossible!”

Cillian’s voice rose, drawing looks from nearby tables. Realizing his outburst, he took a deep breath and lowered his tone. “I know you hate me, but don’t make up stories about our daughter’s life.”

I met his golden eyes. “Do you truly believe I would lie about Lumi’s death?”

Cillian froze.

He knew me. He knew how much I loved our daughter, how I had knelt in the freezing snow for her. I would

never use her death as a lie.

But accepting her death was something he could not do.

His breathing became shallow and ragged.

“No… that can’t be.”

I took a sip of my coffee, my voice entirely flat. “Lumi wasn’t your child anyway. Why do you care so much?”

Cillian’s posture crumbled. He lowered his head, genuine remorse filling his eyes.

“A few days ago, the doctor who performed the bloodline assay contacted me. He is terminally ill. He wanted Lo confess before he died.”

“He admitted the report was forged.”

For five years, during my darkest nights, I had dreamed of hearing those words.

I had imagined Cillian weeping with regret, wishing he could undo the past.

But now that the moment was here, I felt absolutely nothing.

“And?” I asked, my face blank.

“My grandfather ordered it. I was wrong to doubt you, Flora. I am so sorry.”

His fingers trembled against his coffee cup. It was the first time the proud Alpha had ever apologized to me.

I wanted to laugh.

He had doubted me on so many things. The bloodline assay was only the beginning.

Cillian looked up, determination in his eyes. “Lumi is my blood. I want to see her, and you cannot stop me.”

“Fine,” I said quietly.

“Search for her. The entire Wrenford territory belongs to you. If she is alive, you will find her.”

Cillian was taken aback by my indifference.

He stared at me. “Is there nothing else you want to say?”

I knew what he was waiting for.

He wanted me to tell him the photos were fake, that I had never cheated, that I had only ever loved him.

But I chose to remain silent.

“No. Just don’t get me fired.”

“You…” Cillian started, but his phone cut him off.

The caller ID showed Brielle’s name.

His expression turned dark. He stepped away from the table to answer, his voice low and irritated.

After a brief, tense exchange, he hung up.

I found it almost amusing.

Five years ago, he had treated her like a treasure. Now, he looked as though he couldn’t stand her.

“Brielle and I…” he began as he sat back down.

“Your Luna is calling,” I interrupted. “Go back to her. I have to get back to work.”

Cillian hesitated, struggle clear in his eyes. Finally, he stood up and walked toward the exit.

But before he reached the door, he stopped and turned. “Flora, do you hate me?”

I lowered my eyes.

Hate?

That word was far too simple for what I felt.