Chapter 378 Whether I Come Back Depends on You

Chapter 378: Chapter 378 Whether I Come Back Depends on You

Emilia’s POV

Abigail’s words stayed with me all the way home.

He can’t fight a pack that needs an heir.

The worst part was that she had a point.

When I opened the front door, Mila and Titus were waiting in the living room. They sat upright, neither speaking. Mila’s eyes were red, and Titus had his hands folded in front of him.

I kept my coat on. This didn’t look like a conversation I would want to settle in for.

"Emilia," Mila said. "Come sit with us."

I took the chair across from them and straightened my back. "You look like you’ve rehearsed this. Go ahead. I’d hate to spoil the preparation."

"This isn’t easy for any of us," Titus said.

"Then let me save us some time." I crossed my legs. "Abigail is carrying a boy. The pack needs an heir. And I’m standing in the way."

Mila flinched, but Titus met my eyes.

"We’re asking you to divorce Sebastian," he said. "Temporarily. A year, perhaps less. Once the child is born and his place in the family is secure, things can go back to the way they were."

"The way they were?" I repeated. "You make marriage sound like furniture. Move it out for a while, then put it back when it suits you."

"Emilia, we offered you another option before. We asked you to consider a surrogate, and you refused." Titus leaned forward. "I respected your decision, but decisions have consequences. Abigail has given us the chance you turned down. This isn’t a punishment. We have no other choice."

So that was how he justified it. If I’d agreed to their plan, none of this would have happened. My refusal, my inability to have a child, had somehow become the reason Abigail was pregnant.

He called it a difficult decision, but I was the only one being asked to leave. I nearly laughed.

"I wondered if we’d end up here," I said. "You’ve always cared so much about the family name and having an heir. I told myself I was being unfair. That perhaps you loved me more than you wanted a grandson."

I looked from one to the other. "Apparently, I wasn’t being unfair. Just optimistic."

"Don’t say that." Mila’s voice cracked. "I do love you, Emilia. You’re like a daughter to me. That’s why this hurts so much."

She began to cry, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth. Then she leaned toward me and reached for my hand.

"Please. Titus and I won’t be here forever. If we die without a grandchild, how can we face Sebastian’s grandfather? He spent his life building everything we have. We can’t let the pack end with us."

She slipped from the sofa onto her knees. "Emilia, I’m begging you."

The familiar urge to comfort her returned. I wanted to help her up, tell her it was all right, and make her stop crying. I’d spent most of my life doing that for other people, even when I was the one who’d been hurt.

This time, I stayed in my chair. I could care about her pain without agreeing to what she wanted.

The woman who’d welcomed me into this family was kneeling in front of me, asking me to give up my marriage. And the woman she wanted to put in my place had drugged her own son.

It hurt more than I wanted them to know.

"Mila, please get up," I said. "You don’t need to kneel. We both know I’m not going to throw a chair at you."

She lowered her handkerchief and stared at me.

"I want an honest answer from both of you." I looked at Titus, then back at her. "Does it have to be this way? Are you certain you won’t regret what you’re asking me to do?"

Neither answered immediately. Mila glanced at her husband, looking uncertain. Titus clenched his jaw and looked down.

For a moment, I thought they might reconsider. Then he picked up the folder on the table and held it out.

"This is the best solution, Emilia. For everyone."

I looked at the divorce papers, then at the two people offering them to me. Mila had treated me with kindness. Titus had defended me. I hadn’t imagined that affection, but it still wasn’t enough to make them choose me.

I let out a slow breath and took the folder.

"You’ve made your choice," I said. "For all our sakes, I hope it’s the right one."

Mila started to speak, but I stood. "I’d like to be alone now. Thank you for explaining."

I walked past them and went upstairs. Behind me, Mila said something, perhaps an apology or another promise. I didn’t turn around to find out. Promises in this house had a short shelf life.

I waited for Sebastian in our bedroom. With the folder and package beside me, I thought through what I wanted to say.

By the time his car pulled into the drive, it was past one in the morning.

He opened the bedroom door carefully, trying not to wake me. When he saw me sitting on the bed, he stopped. His tie was loose, and he looked exhausted.

"Emilia?" He came over to me. "Why are you still awake?"

I held out the folder. "Your parents spoke to me tonight. They asked me to sign divorce papers so Abigail could become Luna."

He didn’t take it. His eyes went from the folder to my face.

"Did you sign?" he asked. "Did you agree?"

"No." I put it down. "I’m not divorcing you, Sebastian."

He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. I gave him a moment before I continued.

"But I am leaving Silver Moon for a while."

He gripped my shoulders hard. "What? Why? You promised we’d face this together. You said you’d stand beside me."

"I’m not giving up on you." I covered his hands with mine. "Or our marriage. But I need you to listen."

His grip eased, though he didn’t let go.

"I’ve been thinking about this since before Abigail came back. I have a life of my own, Sebastian. There are things about myself I need to understand, things I’ve kept putting off because someone else always needed me."

I took a breath. "If I stay here waiting for everything to settle down, I may never go. And right now, I need some distance from this house."

He shook his head. I’d seen him face enemies without hesitation, but the thought of me leaving seemed to frighten him more than any of them.

"You can’t just leave," he said.

I touched his cheek, and he went still. His jaw tightened beneath my palm as he watched me.

"Sebastian," I said softly. "Whether I come back depends on you."

He frowned. "What does that mean? What are you asking me to do?"

Then I told him.