Rejected Their Broken Luna Chapter 75: Chap-75*The Runaway Wife.*

**Cynthia Dion:**

"Fuck!" Atticus yelled as he pushed me onto the bed, then threw a punch in the air before tossing the decor piece at the mirror. It shattered into pieces while Atticus began walking away from me.

"You're one disgusting person," he yelled, making me instinctively cover my body with my hands. I couldn’t believe myself in that moment.

"You even let me into this bed with you. You're not even loyal to the man you're stealing from my sister?" He laughed sarcastically.

"It's very sad, you know," he paused in the doorway and muttered, "the fact that I came here to be with you when you clearly want to hurt my sister. I shouldn't have been in bed with someone who isn't even faithful to her husband. You disgust me, and I truly am a spineless alpha."

His voice quivered, but since he didn't turn around, I couldn't tell if he was crying. He walked out of the room, and I was left in tears.

"Fuck!" I cursed in tears, "They deceived me," I yelled, as I couldn't fathom how my fingerprint ended up on the cellphone that had been in my bag all along.

Nothing seemed to make sense. However, now that I had my phone, I resolved to call Mr. Holt and have a conversation with him. He must be the one who deceived me.

After only a few rings, he answered the call and sounded far too at ease on the other end.

"Yes, my lovely wife. Don't tell me you're missing me," he said, and I could almost picture the smirk on his face. He must know Atticus has come to confront me. Did he already know we were in bed when Maleeka called?

"Why is my phone in my bag?" I stammered, my voice trembling with anxiety and confusion.

"Because it's your phone," he scoffed from the other side.

"You fucking asshole, did you send those messages to yourself?" It must have been the sadness in Atticus' eyes that prompted my outburst. I yelled, not even realizing the consequences when he returned. Trembling and sobbing, I instinctively covered my body with my hands, remembering how comfortable I had become with Atticus in this bed.

"What did you say? How fucking dare you use that tone with me?” he yelled from the other side, probably taken aback by my courage to call him out on his bullshit.

“You disgusting person! Just wait until I get back home. I'll deal with you," he threatened, and I abruptly hung up on him.

"I disgust him?" I cried hysterically. Letting him get so close to me and then appearing like a liar left me feeling trapped and utterly miserable.

"He's going to make my life hell when he comes home," I sniffled, my tears slowing as terror washed over me. Once Mr. Holt arrives, I knew he would bring more tears and misery.

Summoning my shattered courage, I decided to escape. I was so frightened of Mr. Holt's cunning that I didn't even consider how furious he'd be when he discovered I had fled.

My first instinct was to sprint to the door and lock it so I could change into proper clothes. My wound was starting to bleed again, and I couldn't fathom why.

"I have to leave immediately," I muttered once I snapped out of my daze. I hurriedly went through my belongings and awkwardly tried to conceal my chest by layering two sweatshirts.

"Why am I hiding them now? I let him suck them so shamelessly," I burst into tears in the midst of my own confused actions.

This wasn't the time to dwell on my miserable life. I swiftly grabbed my phone and quietly slipped out of the room before anyone could notice my departure.

Atticus was standing on his balcony as I reached the exit. I glanced around to ensure I wasn't being followed.

Regardless of whether he intended for this to happen or not, this pack and its people had caused me harm.

I rushed out through the front gate and onto the road. As the temperature dropped, the pain in my bruises intensified.

I was in agony, crying, and all by myself. I didn't have enough money to catch a bus or train.

I felt dreadful!

I was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions as I hurried back to my neighborhood.

I wiped away my tears and took a step back, waiting for night to fall. I had no idea when Maleeka and Mr. Holt would return home, but I was certain that as soon as Mr. Holt was back, he would begin searching for me.

I stayed under a tree just outside our neighborhood, weeping quietly and holding myself. I made sure not to let my arm touch my chest, as the intense make-out session had left my body sore. It had been rough, and I'd felt amazing at the time, but not anymore.

I sat under the tree, crying, and eagerly waited for nightfall so I could go back home and find some solace in sleep. The whole situation was incredibly depressing.

If I mentioned Mr. Holt's name, my dad might allow me to stay the night at his place, although I wasn't entirely sure if he would even permit it.

When darkness finally descended, I got up and headed home. Fortunately, the rogue wolves didn't dare venture outside after nightfall, fearing attacks from the pack members. It was a genuine concern, as such incidents had occurred in the past.

I paused on the porch, feeling queasy. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and I could barely sense my own breathing or heartbeat.

Shivering and sniffling as a chill settled over me, I raised my hand and softly tapped on the door.

Living as a human in a world filled with werewolves and other malevolent creatures was truly challenging.

I felt a wave of relief when Flora appeared at the door instead of my dad. I flashed a broken smile when watching her stand before me. However, her first words shocked me to the core.

"Why are you here now?" she muttered, and my jaw dropped in terror. What had happened? Why was she so angry with me?