ella'
home. I stripped off my wet clothes, took a warm bath, and bundled up in thick garments to combat the cold that had settled in. I began sneezing as well. I
ster entered my room, concern evident in her eyes. "Sis, you look so pal
nk I've caught a cold," I replied,
le to colds when you get soaked. Why didn'
You should be getting ready for your up
. My responsibility is to take care of you. You look awful.
and advised me to rest after t
vide some relief before I thanked my sister. But the cup slipped from my hand, and my father witne
ould be concerned about y
ed my daughter. Until then, you're just a worthless Omega, useless to me.
wn my face, but he paid no heed. I fel
ed to check on me. My father ordered the nurses and household staff to focus solely on my sister's wedding,
or opened, revealing Jane, my friend, who had returned from a trip out of to
ost so much weight and you look so pal
e soothed me, rubbing my back. "Please stop crying, Gabby.
wolf? Why am I different? Was I born with some curse that drives people away and subjects me to ridicule?" Overwhelmed, I wept in Jane's arms like a child. She comforted
er, Jane? It's not working. I'm not special in
to prove yourself to anyone. You're Gabriella, an Omega with a heart of gold." Her words
needed certainty. In the bathroom, I examined the result. I almost screamed upon seeing two red lines indicating a positive result. How could a simple encounter lead t
since I'd been rejected? No, that would be morally wrong, endangering my life in the process. I needed
panic surged. She couldn't find me like
child, I knew I had to act quickly to protect her from heartbreak.
it for you to see my wedd
ned off the shower a
WE
the wedding hall. Amid the crowd, tears welled up as I watched the groom's entra
r place, walking beside my father. However, reality was cruel, and my father's
h each symbolic act. The kiss was the final blow, evoking memories of the nightstand and his hurtful
back one last time, I saw the happiness on everyone's faces. I didn't belong there. I was an outcast. It was t
ivities. Rolling my luggage, I stopped a taxi, providing directions to my destination. Once at the bus station, I would head south, seeking a fresh start where no one knew my past. I hoped
overs that the bride isn't hi