The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 08

The Unwanted Luna’s Farewell Chapter 08

My address wasn’t much of a secret.

But I didn’t expect to see them so soon.

One evening during my second week in Omaha, Mom showed up downstairs at my apartment.

“You ungrateful girl! Not answering texts, ignoring calls–are you on a business trip, or did you run away from

home?!”

My tone remained calm. “What are you doing here?”

Mom choked on her words.

Then, as if suddenly remembering her real purpose, she dug her phone out of her bag.

“You have no idea–Owen snuck out over summer break and bumped someone’s car, costing tens of

thousands in damages. And Olivia wants to take ballet lessons; hiring a tutor is super expensive.”

“I worked so hard to raise you–you can’t just wash your hands of us when it’s time to pay us back.”

I stared at her numbly.

Traveling across several states, only caring about how much money I should give her.

“Do you have anything else to say to me?”

Mom hesitated for a second, her gaze darting away.

But in an instant, she straightened her back again.

“Charlotte, I’m your mother! You do whatever I tell you to do–you, don’t get a choice!”

During the day, Claire told me not to worry and to follow my heart.

At night, my own mother pointed at my nose and told me I had no choice.

Perhaps life was just fundamentally split like that.

But this time, I wouldn’t soften my heart again.

“Since I was little, you kept tallying accounts with me–counting my medical bills in the incubator, counting the extra years of expenses I used compared to Owen and Olivia. Did you think that calculation was fair?”

“Deep down, I always knew you were making excuses for your favoritism, but I forced myself to believe you treated us equally.”

Mom’s face drained of color bit by bit.

“When gifts were free promotional items, I convinced myself thought mattered more than form; when there

were only four eggs for breakfast, I stubbornly insisted I didn’t like them. But too many things happened, and

I couldn’t fool myself anymore.”

“The truth is, you never cared about me at all. Admitting that hurts a hundred times worse than your

favoritism.”

“Charlotte, that’s not true…”

Listening to my accusation, Mom’s eyes suddenly welled with tears.

“You were my first child! I was a new mother back then–you should understand if I was clumsy with things.

How could you actually hold a grudge against me?”

“I worked so hard to raise you…”

“I don’t blame you.”

I forced a completely hollow smile.

“Really, I don’t hold a grudge against you at all.”

“I just don’t love you anymore.”

“The fixed amount I promised to send home, I’ll keep sending.”

“Not because you raised me, but simply because it was a promise I made.”

“If you come here to make a scene again? You won’t get a single cent.”

I turned around and walked straight toward my residence.

Soft sobs echoed behind me.

Then grew louder and louder.

The setting sun reflected off her graying hair, casting the deep furrows on her face and the wrinkles around her eyes into sharp, clear relief.

Maybe she really had it hard.

Maybe she had plenty of her own grievances.

But if someone felt sorry for her, who was going to feel sorry for the me who suffered all those years?

I didn’t look back.