The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 04

The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 04

Back home, I locked myself in my room to pack.

Not until dinner did Mom knock on my door.

She handed over a box.

“Here, for you.”

I looked up, surprised and delighted.

It was a palm-sized pair of Bluetooth headphones.

Though the model was outdated, carrying a risk of latency during interpretation;

Though the color was white—my least favorite;

Though it didn’t even match my laptop…

I still couldn’t hold back my excitement.

“Is this… for me?”

Mom smiled. “Who else? Weren’t you making a fuss wanting one?”

Her half-coaxing tone made me overlook the blame laced in her words.

Maybe Mom did care about me after all; maybe my brother and sister just needed her attention more; maybe she was feeling guilty too.

My heart softened suddenly, and I instinctively blocked my suitcase with my leg.

Maybe I should find a good moment to tell her about my deployment.

That night, I slept soundly.

Until the next morning, when I was awakened by noise in the living room.

“Mom, isn’t it way too early to pack?”

“The bus won’t wait! The seven-day Colorado Rockies tour is so expensive; miss the bus, and the tour fee won’t be refunded.”

“Thank goodness those headphones placated Charlotte. Otherwise, she’d definitely make a scene again.”

My mind exploded with a loud buzz.

What was there left to understand?

No wonder Mom looked so odd when I thanked her last night.

I thought it was awkwardness from a sudden moment of mother-daughter closeness, who knew it was sheer guilt!

“Shh! Keep it down; don’t wake Charlotte.”

“If she asks, just say the discount tour had to leave today, and she wasn’t prepared, so she couldn’t come along.”

A chorus of hushed cheers came from the living room.

I lay back down, staring quietly at the ceiling.

So admitting that you’re unloved is such a difficult thing.

So difficult that even with the truth laid bare before me, I still held on to a shred of hope.

Thinking back to how a tiny bit of tenderness softened my heart last night, I felt nothing but bleakness.

Once the noise outside subsided, I washed up, changed, and ate breakfast as if nothing had happened.

As I passed the dining table, Mom handed me an egg—an unprecedented gesture.

“Charlotte, take this to eat at work.”

I stared straight at her.

For a moment, I couldn’t tell if this sudden gesture was genuine or just another act of “zero-cost love.”

Not that it mattered anymore.

From now on, I wouldn’t live off these occasional crumbs of cheap affection.

At the dining table, the four of them sat gathered around, enjoying breakfast and quietly discussing their itinerary.

No one noticed as I quietly rolled my suitcase out the door.

…

At seven sharp, I arrived at Chicago Union Station.

My phone buzzed repeatedly.

In the family group chat, Mom and Dad sent message after message.

[Charlotte, sorry, we suddenly found a discount tour when we went out. We had to leave right away and couldn’t wait for you.]

[When we get back, I’ll buy you as many headphones as you want to make it up to you, okay?]

Owen sent a photo holding a tour flag, grinning happily.

[Haha, someone’s probably jealous.]

Right after, Olivia sent a wolf pup saluting sticker.

[Charlotte, take good care of my gown at home.]

[When I get back, I promise to let you borrow it.]

I tapped Olivia’s profile picture, opened her contact page, and hit block.

Then, one by one, I blocked every single person from the Hayes family in my contacts—leaving none behind.

Two hours later, I boarded the California Zephyr.

The scenery outside rushed past, familiar buildings, houses, and bridges fading into the distance.

Next stop: Omaha.

And the beginning of my new life.

…

Yet right as I was hauling my suitcase, looking for my car, a familiar voice came from behind.

“Charlotte? How on earth are you here?!”