Is This A Joke? My Whole Pack Betrayed Me On The Day I Became Luna Chapter 10

Is This A Joke? My Whole Pack Betrayed Me On The Day I Became Luna Chapter 10

Later, my parents stayed in London for two weeks. 

They came to my office building every day, but they never stopped me. 

When it rained, my father would stand across the 

street with an umbrella. He’d watch me laugh and 

talk with my colleagues, take a few steps forward, 

then stop. 

They finally understood that making amends. wasn’t about barging back into my life and forcing 

me to accept their belated love. 

My mother left a dozen letters with the front desk. They were filled with all the little things she’d once 

overlooked. 

She said she’d gone through our photo albums at 

home and realized there wasn’t a single photo of 

me alone after high school. 

Because in every group shot, I was the one holding 

the camera for them and Vesper. 

There wasn’t a single plea for forgiveness in those 

letters. 

My mother just kept writing, over and over: 

[Celine, I’m sorry.] 

My father eventually resigned from his position. 

He started seeing a pack therapist. 

The hand that had pushed me became his 

unforgivable sin. 

He later admitted in his therapy records that he’d 

always known those jokes hurt me. But because 

everyone else was laughing, he’d thought sacrificing my feelings was no big deal. 

It wasn’t until that unborn child took the final blow 

for me that he realized some wounds could never 

be undone. 

They sold the pack estate they’d planned to retire 

in and transferred the money to me as 

compensation. 

I sent it back. 

They never owed me money. 

And I didn’t need their regret to prove I deserved to 

be loved. 

On the day they left London, my mother watched me from far away for a long time. 

Just before the plane took off, I received one last 

message from her. 

[From now on, Mom won’t force you to come 

home.] 

[Wherever you go, that will be your home.] 

I didn’t reply. But I didn’t delete it either. 

Back home, my parents never claimed Vesper as their daughter again. 

On holidays, they still set an extra place at the table, as if waiting for someone who would never 

come. 

My mother would sit alone at the table after the food had gone cold, crying until dawn. 

Damon never married. 

He also resigned from his position and sold the 

house we’d once planned to share. He donated all 

the proceeds to organizations supporting women 

who had suffered online harassment. 

Every year on the day our child left, he would go to 

the pack medical center alone and sit in that 

corridor for a long time. 

He still kept the mate ring he’d never given away. 

But the person who’d once waited to receive it no longer needed it. 

I learned all of this later from my lawyer when she was organizing documents. 

I just nodded slightly after hearing it. 

They had finally started to hurt. 

They would spend the rest of their long lives experiencing the disappointment I’d once endured. 

But that didn’t mean I had to go back and soothe their pain. 

A year later, I officially became the head of the overseas department. 

At the celebratory banquet, my boss raised his glass. 

“This was supposed to be a project that couldn’t 

be saved.” 

“Celine brought it back to life.” 

Everyone applauded. 

I smiled. 

For the first time, I understood something clearly. 

I had never been boring. 

I had never been unlovable. 

I’d just spent too much time trying to please people who never truly loved me. 

That night, someone asked if I was ready for another surprise. 

I smiled. 

“Yes.” 

Outside, the rain was falling again. 

Someone offered to drive me home. 

This time, I didn’t insist on going alone. 

I got into the warm car. 

As it drove through the rain–soaked streets, I looked back at the city. 

Somewhere far away, a woman once stood 

outside an airport, clutching her white mate 

ceremony gown tightly to her chest. 

She had believed for so many years that love 

meant endurance. 

That family meant forgiveness. 

That being a good Luna meant never asking to be 

chosen. 

I had finally left that woman behind. 

Time hadn’t forgiven anyone for me. 

It hadn’t erased what happened. 

It had just taken away my tears. 

And the need to understand why they had done it. 

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t running toward 

someone. 

I was finally walking toward myself.