Chapter 16 #3
"Do you know what these people did for me?
" I asked, my voice growing warm as I thought of my chosen family.
"They saw a scared, pregnant girl, and they welcomed me.
They gave me work, a home, a family. They celebrated my birthday when I had no one else.
They've never asked for anything in return except that I be happy. "
"I want you to be happy," Marshall said desperately.
"No, you want me to be yours," I corrected, and I could see the truth of it in his eyes. "You want me to come back and be your Luna and pretend that none of this happened. You want me to make you feel better about what you did."
"I want to make this right," he said, his voice cracking like a broken thing.
"There is no making this right," I said, the words falling between us like a death sentence. "There's no going back. There's no pretending that what you did doesn't matter. You destroyed us, Marshall. You destroyed any chance we had at happiness."
"Don't say that," he pleaded, and I could see him fighting back sobs. "Please don't say that."
"It's the truth," I said, and I was surprised by how calm I sounded, how steady my voice was despite the chaos raging inside me. "You killed whatever was between us the moment you chose to believe I was lying. You killed it when you called me a whore. You killed it when you threw me away."
"I'll do anything," Marshall said, and then—to my shock—he fell to his knees in front of me right there on the grass. "I'll beg, I'll grovel, I'll spend the rest of my life proving that I've changed. Just please, please don't give up on us."
The sight of him on his knees should have been satisfying. Instead, it just made me feel hollow, exhausted, older than my eighteen years. I could hear gasps from inside the diner, could see faces pressed against the windows, could feel the weight of everyone's attention.
"Get up," I said quietly, my voice gentler now. "Please. Just get up."
He rose slowly, like an old man, his amber eyes fixed on my face like he was trying to memorize every detail. There was something broken in his expression, something that spoke of a man who was finally understanding the magnitude of what he'd lost.
"I need you to understand something," I said, my voice soft but firm. "I'm not punishing you. I'm not trying to hurt you the way you hurt me. I'm just done."
"Done?"
"Done hoping you'll change. Done making excuses for you. Done believing that love is enough to fix what's broken between us." I placed both hands on my belly, feeling the strong kicks of my son. "I'm done being the girl who loved you more than she loved herself."
"I love you," he said desperately.
"It's too late for that," I said softly, and I could see the words hit him like physical blows. "I've already learned to love myself the way I deserve.”
Marshall's face crumpled, and I saw the exact moment he realized I meant it. That this wasn't anger or hurt that would fade with time. This was finality. This was the end of everything we'd ever been or could have been.
"So what happens now?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and the waves.
"Now you go back to your hotel," I said, my voice steady despite the tears still streaming down my face.
"You decide whether you want to be part of our son's life in whatever capacity we jointly agree on, or whether you want to disappear completely.
But you don't get to demand anything. You don't get to make ultimatums. You don't get to use the pack or the Alpha Council to force my hand. "
"I would never—"
"Wouldn't you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "You came here expecting me to be grateful that you'd finally come to rescue me. You talked about your rights, about your heir. You're an Alpha, Marshall. Taking what you want by force is exactly what you'd do."
"I'm not that man anymore," he said quietly.
"Prove it," I said, my voice ringing with challenge. "Prove it by respecting my boundaries. Prove it by accepting that I get to choose what happens next. Prove it by putting my needs above your wants for once in your life."
"What do you need?" he asked, and I could hear the genuine desperation in his voice.
"I need you to leave me alone," I said simply. "Stop trying to fix something that can't be fixed. Accept that some things, once broken, can't be put back together."
"And our son?"
"Our son will be fine," I said firmly, rubbing my belly as the baby kicked again. "He'll grow up knowing he's loved, knowing he's wanted, knowing he's valued. He'll grow up surrounded by people who chose to be in his life, not people who felt obligated to be there."
"I choose to be in his life," Marshall said urgently. "I choose both of you."
"You had your chance to choose," I said, my voice growing harder. "You chose Scarlett. You chose Veronica. You chose your pride. You chose your fear. You chose everything and everyone except me."
"I'm choosing you now," he said desperately.
"It's too late," I said, and the words felt like a death sentence for both of us. "I'm not available to be chosen anymore. I've already chosen myself."
We stood there in silence. The sun was setting now, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink that should have been beautiful but just felt like an ending.
I could hear the evening sounds of Crescent Bay around us—doors closing, cars starting, the normal sounds of a town settling in for the night.
Finally, Marshall nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.
"I understand," he said quietly. "I understand I destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me. I won’t ask you to come back with me."
"Good," I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "That's the first step."
"Is there a second step?" he asked, and I could see hope flickering in his eyes like a dying flame.
"Maybe," I said carefully. "But it starts with you accepting that I'm not the same person who loved you unconditionally.
Prove that you can respect my boundaries even when you don't like them.
Learn to love our son without trying to use him to get to me.
Then maybe we can be friends who can co-parent well together. "
"I can do that," he said eagerly, and I could see him fighting not to reach for me.
"We'll see," I said, my voice noncommittal. "But Marshall? If you hurt me again, if you push me or pressure me or try to force this, I'll disappear. I'll take our son and I'll disappear so completely that you'll never find us again."
"I won't," he said quickly. "I won't hurt you again."
"See that you don't," I said, turning toward the diner. I could see Rita's face in the window, her expression fierce with protective concern. "Because I meant what I said. I'm done being afraid. I'm done being broken."
"Annalise," he called after me, and something in his voice made me pause.
I stopped but didn't turn around, my hand on the diner's door handle.
"For what it's worth," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm proud of who you've become. I'm proud of the strength you've found, the life you've built. You're everything I always knew you would be."
"I know," I said without turning around, my voice steady despite the fresh tears streaming down my face. "That's why I don't need you anymore."
I walked back into the diner, into the warmth and safety of my chosen family, leaving Marshall standing alone.
The moment I stepped inside, I was surrounded by concerned voices and gentle hands. Rita pulled me into a fierce hug, and I could feel her trembling with protective fury.
"Are you okay, hon?" she asked, her voice rough with emotion.
"I will be," I said, and realized I meant it. "I will be."
It's over, Sapphire said quietly in my mind. Finally, it's over.
"No," I said, placing my hand on my belly where my son kicked strongly against my palm. "It's just beginning."
Through the window, I could see Marshall still standing in the same spot, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Part of me wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay.
But that girl was gone. The woman who'd replaced her had learned that sometimes the kindest thing you could do was let someone face the consequences of their choices.