The True Luna's Forbidden Temptation - Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Analise.
“What the fuck is going on here?” A booming voice interrupts us from the door.
‘Tyler!’
He came back!
My heart lurches with desperate hope that Tyler will believe me. That he will see through Lorraine’s lies.
I run to him. “Tyler! I didn’t do anything. Lorraine is accusing me of pushing her! I would never—”
I touch Tyler’s arm, desperate to make him believe me.
“She—she pushed me!”
Lorraine cries, tears streaming endlessly down her face. "I didn't do anything to her. I was actually trying to comfort her. I have no idea why she felt the need to push me!"
I shake my head, looking at Tyler with pleading eyes. “No! That’s not true!” I say. “Lorraine, don’t make up stories. You were insulting me. I walked past you. I never even touched you!”
“Between you and Lorraine, it’s you who have no credibility!” Vivian snaps at me. “Why would Lorraine lie?”
“Because it’s what she always does!” I growl.
Tyler’s head turns to me. And to my dismay, I instantly see that he’s not going to believe me. Because in his eyes, I see disappointment and something else—something that resembles contempt.
“What do you mean, that’s what she always does?” he snaps at me. “You have no idea who she is!”
But I do! I want to scream at him. There’s no one else in this room who knows Lorraine more.
“Tyler, please listen. I never touched her. She’s lying. You have to believe me.”
His head snaps up, and the look he gives me is so foreign, so full of disgust and rage, that I physically step back. This isn’t my husband looking at me. This is a stranger wearing his face.
Slowly, he shakes his head. “Why would you push a pregnant woman, Analise?”
I shake my head violently. “No! I would never do that. I swear to you! I just walked past her. I would never push her.”
“And what are you implying? That Lorraine is acting?” Vivian spits. “Can you feign this blood?”
I swallow hard, fighting back my own tears. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I didn’t push her. I would never—”
“Were you arguing with her?” Tyler asks, his tone nothing short of accusing.
"I..." I look at him, mouth open, unsure of what to say.
"Were you having an argument with her?" Tyler asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I told you her condition is sensitive! You should have been just a little bit considerate.”
I shake my head again, wiping the tears that are rolling down my cheeks.
“Tyler! It hurts! The baby!” Lorraine suddenly wails. “Help me!”
Tears stream down her face, so believable that I'm starting to question if she's truly just pretending.
Without glancing in my direction, Tyler shoves me aside, causing me to tumble to the ground. I end up on my stomach, using my hands to break my fall.
Tyler walks towards Lorraine, probably not even realizing that he pushed me.
My heart breaks because right now, I feel invisible. Like I am nothing but air.
I turn and watch him drop to his knees beside Lorraine.
“Relax, Lorraine. You’re gonna be okay,” he reassures her. He cups Lorraine’s cheeks gently. “The baby is going to be okay. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here.”
The tenderness in his voice is foreign to me. I wonder when was the last time he spoke me with such tenderness? When was the last time he looked at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world?”
I slowly sit up, my heart breaking as I watch my husband hold another woman in his arms. Even though I know they are cousins, it still feels heartbreaking.
“Tyler.”
No response.
“Tyler, please!” I try again, desperation making my voice crack. “You need to hear my side—”
“Your side?” He stands abruptly, turning on me with such force that I stumble back. “Your side is that you assaulted a pregnant woman because you’re jealous. Because you can’t stand that she’s successful, that she’s carrying a child when you—”
He stops himself, but the unspoken words hang in the air between us.
‘When you can’t.’
The accusation burns, especially with the secret knowledge growing inside me—our child, the baby he doesn’t know about.
“That’s not true!” I blurt out, shaking my head.
I am about to tell him about the baby when Lorraine lets out another rehearsed moan, drawing Tyler’s attention immediately back to her. “Tyler, what’s going to happen to my baby?”
I watch as my husband transforms. Like a scene from my worst nightmare, I watch him wrap his arms around Lorraine’s tiny frame and hug her, whispering promises to her.
“Sshhh… Nothing is going to happen to the baby,” he soothes her. “The ambulance is going to be here soon. Just hold on until they get here.”
And as if on cue, we hear sounds of sirens piercing through the silence of night.
I sit there frozen, watching as paramedics rush in, their practiced movements quick and efficient. They ask questions, check Lorraine’s vitals, prepare to move her. Through it all, Tyler doesn’t leave her side, doesn’t stop holding her hand, doesn’t stop murmuring reassurances.
Not once does he look at me.
The paramedics decide to move Lorraine to a stretcher. Gently, they begin to lift her.
“No,” Tyler says suddenly. “I’ll carry her.”
Before the paramedics can say anything, Tyler gently lifts Lorraine, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back, making it look easy. He holds her so carefully that it stirs something in me.
Lorraine rests her head on Tyler's chest and wraps her arms around his neck. Even though she looks in pain, I see a hint of triumph in her eyes as she looks at me over Tyler's shoulder. And it occurs to me that this was her plan all along: to be held by him, to get his full attention, to take him away from me.
Tyler carries Lorraine out the door, paramedics following behind him. Vivian hurries after them, pausing only to throw me a look of pure disgust before she disappears into the night.
Suddenly, I am all by myself—alone in a house that never welcomed me.
“Why?” I whisper to the silence. “Why would you believe her over me? Why would you choose her?”
But I know why. It’s the same reason my father chose Lorraine and her mother over me. The same reason Sebastian left without saying goodbye.
‘I’m easy to leave. Easy to replace. Easy to forget.’
I hug myself. The pain in my chest is physical, a crushing weight that makes it hard to breathe.
“We’re truly alone now, baby,” I whisper to my unborn child, my hand protective over my belly. “Just you and me against the world.”
As if in response, a cramping pain seizes my abdomen. I gasp, the sensation sharp and unexpected. It passes quickly, and I dismiss it as stress—as heartbreak taking physical form.
But then it happens again. This time stronger. A vicious twist that makes me curl tighter, as a whimper escapes my lips.
Fuck! What’s happening to me?
Something’s wrong. The realization dawns with terrifying clarity.
I push myself up to sitting, my hand still pressed to my stomach. The cramping comes again, an insistent, pulsing pain that radiates through my lower back. Fear replaces heartbreak, a new kind of panic rising within me.
“No,” I whisper. “Please, no.”
I manage to stand, though my legs shake beneath me. Just then, I feel it—a warm, wet sensation between my thighs.
“Oh God!”
Slowly, with shaking hands, I reach to touch between my legs. When I raise my fingers again, I see it.
My fingertips—blood-stained red.