Rejected Their Broken Luna Chapter 155: Chap-155*The Dead Romance*

Cynthia Dion:

After that incident, Atticus returned with a tray carrying a steaming bowl of soup and an bowl of fruits. He set the bowl of soup before me on the bed and the tray on the table in front of him.

"Finish all of this and then take the medication," he mumbled, his head bowed, and he silently sliced the fruits. I took a sip of the soup, and it provided a comforting warmth.

Sitting across from him in his room, his tending to me was an unprecedented occurrence. The only distinction was that I now felt too wounded to express gratitude towards him. After all, he is partly to blame for my current misery.

"What's the matter?" I couldn't fathom how he sensed my gaze, considering his head was mostly obscured by his hair, which hung over his forehead and eyes.

"My wolf!" I realized I needed to discuss this with him. "I only recently discovered my wolf," I admitted honestly. But when he responded with a small scoff and just nodded toward the tray, I found it disheartening.

"I can't figure out why she remained silent until now. I always believed I never had her," I explained, studying his face for any response.

"Sure!" he mumbled, which only further irritated me with his unresponsive demeanor.

"Atticus! I'm not a wicked person like the rest of you," my tone shifted as anger welled up from the mistreatment. "If you genuinely believe I'm such a terrible person, then what does that make you?" My question prompted him to lift his head and fix his gaze on me.

"The things you've put me through, I can't even bear to look at myself in the mirror anymore. The humiliation you've subjected me to, time and time again, makes me feel like a fool sitting here, sipping this soup." When the anger consumed me, I pushed the soup bowl aside and grunted, struggling to hold back tears.

"So, are we the evil ones, and you're the saint?" He scoffed, but then he reined in his emotions by biting the inside of his cheek. "Let's not dwell on it right now; you need rest and comfort," he added, gently pushing the bowl back towards me.

"Why? If you don't care, then why bother? Just let me die," I couldn't tolerate being in his presence. I resented him for how he had turned me into a laughingstock within the pack.

"I hate you, Atticus!" After a brief pause, I let my emotions flow without reservation. He remained silent for a moment and then resumed slicing the fruits.

"Finish your meal, and then I'll... give you the medication," he averted his gaze from me, but his voice betrayed the hint of teary emotions.

He left a bowl of fruit for me and stepped away from the bed. I lacked the strength to argue with him, but I was determined to leave first thing in the morning. I wasn't foolish enough to trust him again; there was nothing left between us.

"These, take them with a warm glass of milk," he reentered the room, carrying a glass of milk and my medication. It felt as though he was trying to prove his goodness for looking after me, despite my past actions that had hurt his sister.

I accepted the glass of milk and the pills, and soon he had brought a mattress for himself. He placed it on the floor and, after we both agreed that there were no more topics to discuss, he turned off the lights.

As I lay in his bed, a moment of realization washed over me – this was never meant to be my life. I was a rogue, someone who was supposed to take the hits, but why had I been so unjustly wronged?

Mara is a rogue too, yet nobody despises her.

With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep. I was roused by the faint chirping of birds combined with the sound of a running shower. The night had been so peacefully restful after a long time that I didn't want to stir. I was still in bed, stretching, when the bathroom door swung open, and Atticus emerged, clad in a black dress shirt and black pants.

His hair was still damp, with only a few strands clinging to his forehead. No one would ever guess that this handsome man concealed such an ugly beast within.

"I see you're awake," he whispered, though he didn't meet my gaze as I observed him. I used my arms to push myself up, sitting on the bed and stretching my neck a bit.

"I wasn't sure what you'd be comfortable in, so I bought you a few dresses early this morning," he mentioned as he applied perfume. I checked the time and realized he must have gone shopping very early since it was already 11.

"Take your time getting ready, and then we'll go out for breakfast together," he continued to speak to me in a soothing tone. If nobody knew about our history, observing us in the same room might lead them to believe we were a couple.

I maintained my silence and left the bed to take a shower. The moment I stepped into his bathroom, memories from the past flooded my mind. It hurt so much that he had squandered all those beautiful moments of our connection with his ugly behavior.

"Is everything alright?" I must have lingered in the doorway for too long, catching his attention. He asked, and I merely shook my head in response.

Once I had entered and locked the bathroom, I took a moment before stepping under the shower. It felt like a looming emotional breakdown, and I was determined not to shed a tear over memories that had been part of his plan to wreck my future.

After my shower, I selected a loosely-fitted blue dress that ended just above my thighs. I craved some positive energy and lighter colors, as the darkness was beginning to engulf me.

I left my long hair wet, not wanting to waste any more time drying it because I was famished. All I wanted was to eat, so I didn't bother styling my hair, rushing out of the bathroom to find Atticus waiting for me.

I knew he didn't want to leave me alone, as one of his eccentric family members might strike at any moment.