Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leila
"I'm standing here because I love you, Leila, because I'm in love with you."
Ryan's words reverberate through my mind over and over. I wasn’t sure what I expected from him, but hearing that sent a rush of emotions through me that I couldn’t quite grasp.
I couldn’t even speak. I just stood there, stunned, and all I could do was ask for time—time to think, time to make sense of the storm of feelings before I could respond. My mind keeps drifting to all of them and how they make me feel such different ways.
There’s Luke. He’s steady and dependable. He’s been by my side for as long as I can remember. The way he spoke to me at his mother’s house, the fact that he even brought me there, to a place so personal to him. It stirs something deep inside me.
Then there’s Henry. He’s intoxicating in a way I can’t quite explain.
There’s something about him that awakens this raw need in me, a desire to please him, to give him whatever he wants.
His directness and the way he claimed his feelings for me so fiercely are overwhelming, and I can’t help but want him, too.
And Ryan, with his calm, all-encompassing presence. There’s a gravity to him that draws me in, a quiet strength that makes everything feel so grounded. Now, he’s talking about wanting a family unit. They all are.
When Luke and Henry confessed their feelings and their desire for a family unit with me, it hit me with a wave of joy I didn’t expect. I asked for time, though, to let it sink in, to make sense of it all. Being pregnant, the thought of becoming a mother soon… it's a lot to take in.
Then there’s Ryan. His intentions have been clear from the start, from the moment we spoke in his office. I had asked for time back then too. The pull toward Ryan was undeniable—but so was the one toward Henry.
I needed to be sure of what I truly felt before making any kind of decision.The idea of a family unit with Luke, Henry, and this baby was definitely not the picture he had in mind.
I had decided to do the DNA test, hoping it would give me clarity. Part of me assumed that if this child wasn’t Ryan’s, he might step back. But he hasn’t. None of them have. They all want this. They all want to be here for this.
I pace the length of my room, steady and controlled. My breath is even, and my body is calm. But my mind? I can’t make sense of why Ryan still wants to be married to me after the media has dragged me through the dirt.
I thought for sure it would be too messy for him.
I imagined he’d want to distance himself and walk away from this fractured image of us.
Yet he insists. He says he loves me. I don’t doubt his sincerity, but it fills me with a strange warmth and an equally strange fear.
There’s something unnerving about it as if it’s too much, too good to be real.
Every time things feel like they’re falling into place for me, some disaster is always lurking around the corner. It's as if I'm conditioned to expect the worst, and now, this, Ryan's unwavering devotion, feels like the calm before the inevitable storm.
Even the thought of marriage, something that should stir joy, fills me with a quiet, creeping dread.
I haven’t allowed myself to dwell on it too much, maybe because I haven’t wanted to, or maybe because I’ve been too caught up in everything else.
But as the possibility edges closer, that dread thickens.
There’s a wariness in me about what marriage truly means, and it grows heavier with each step toward that commitment.
I’ve seen too clearly how marriage can unravel and leave lives in pieces.
My parents are the clearest example. What they had didn’t work, and the fallout from that failure rippled through so many lives.
It wasn’t just them. It was me, too. The strictness of my childhood was rooted in their broken marriage.
And it wasn’t only me. Cassie’s life and her mother’s life were all tangled in the wreckage of my parents doomed union.
I can’t help but wonder: would my mother still be alive if she had found joy in her marriage?
Or if she had never married at all? Would she have been happier, less bitter, and less hurt?
And what about Cassie? How much did she suffer because my father cheated on my mother with hers?
Would I have been a different person if my childhood had been less strict and if my relationship with my mother hadn’t been marked by her unhappiness?
Now, standing on the brink of marriage myself, these questions weigh on me. The consequences of a marriage gone wrong, the pain and the damage, are not abstract to me. I’ve lived them. And they terrify me.
Then there’s the other thought, the one that refuses to quiet down no matter how hard I try to drown it out. It’s relentless and persistent. Maybe it’s because there’s a bitter edge of truth to it.
Do I even deserve any of this? Honestly. This chance at a happily ever after, this overwhelming profession of love from Ryan, from Henry, from Luke, do I deserve it?
Sometimes, I feel like that nine-year-old girl again, kneeling on the hard floor of that room with my mother.
I close my eyes, and I’m back there, my knees pressed into the wooden boards.
Her voice still echoes in my mind. “You must be the best.” Those words have followed me all my life, an invisible chain wrapped around me. They’ve defined me.
I set out to be the best at everything, and I was.
For as long as I can remember, I was the best. It’s how I knew my worth.
It’s how I was validated. Mother’s love and affection always seemed to hinge on it.
With every success and every achievement, her approval grew.
It was like her love for me had conditions as if it was a reward for being exceptional.
Even when I was old enough that talks of marriage began within the family, it wasn’t just about love.
It was about finding the right Alpha, the best Alpha, to match me.
Being the best was the only way I understood love.
The best love was what I was supposed to deserve.
But now? I feel like an impostor. Cassie is the White Wolf.
She stands far above every other Omega, myself included.
I’m happy for her, truly. But the shadow of it, the reality of no longer being the best, has left me lost. I can’t wrap my head around the affection from Ryan, Henry, or Luke.
Ryan is as strong as any Alpha could be.
Henry will grow even stronger with age. And Luke’s heart is so big it could hold the world.
He deserves all the happiness life can offer.
Why would they want me? Why would they want to be in a family unit with me?
My mind spins, trying to make sense of it. I don’t know why they’d choose me, when I’m no longer the best. When I no longer know if I’m deserving at all.
And yet, my thoughts keep circling back to Cassie. They expand, weaving through different facets of her, touching on all the ways she inspires me. Her story, her life, it’s nothing short of remarkable.
Yes, she’s the White Wolf. But it wasn’t as if she was born into power and handed status from the start.
No, she spent years suffering, cast aside, frail, and sickly.
And now? She’s married with a family unit of her own.
Whenever I see her, I can’t help but notice how happy she is.
Her family unit gives her so much joy and peace.
It’s undeniable that marriage has brought her something good, something solid and certain.
As I reflect on this, a quiet but insistent urge stirs within me.
I need to talk to her. There’s something about her perspective, her journey, that might help me find clarity.
Maybe she’ll offer some insight I haven’t considered, a way of seeing things that could ease the weight in my mind.
Or maybe she’ll have a warning, a truth I haven’t prepared myself for. Either way, I need her counsel.
Without hesitating, I reach for my phone.
I dial Cassie, and like always, she picks up within the first few rings.
Before I can even say a word, a familiar warmth floods my thoughts.
She’s always there for me. Even in my darkest moment when I locked myself away in that room, she came.
I’ll never forget how she showed up, heavily pregnant at the time, yet still there and present for me.
Now, being pregnant myself, I can finally grasp the strain that must have been.
"Hey, Lei!" Cassie’s voice, warm and bright, fills the space between us. Her smile greets me through the video call as if she’s right here beside me.
“Hi, Cassie,” I reply, forcing a smile of my own. I try to mask the storm brewing inside, if only for a moment.
“How’s the baby kicking?” she asks, her eyes softening as they fall to my stomach.
“Oh… relentlessly,” I say with a small laugh, my hand instinctively resting on my swollen belly.
We laugh together, light and easy, and for a moment, I let myself settle into that familiar comfort.
But even as we laugh, I can feel everything else waiting beneath the surface, the thoughts pressing at the edges of my mind, demanding attention.
As the laughter fades, and just as I’m searching for the right way to bring it up, Cassie beats me to it.
“Lei, I’ve seen some of the tabloids,” she says, her face growing concerned. “How are you holding up?”
“Yeah, I’m better now. Henry, Ryan, and Luke have been great. They’ve helped me through it.”
“That’s great. I’m so relieved to hear you’re better. Those nasty tabloids don’t know when to stop.” Her voice is full of protective indignation, but I can see the relief in her eyes as well.
I nod, the memory of those awful articles flickering briefly in my mind like a dull ache. But Cassie, ever intuitive, changes the conversation before I can dwell on it.