The Bride Widow
Chapter 143: Ch 143: The divorce is finally here - Part 2

Chapter 143: Ch 143: The divorce is finally here - Part 2

Anabella sat at her small dining table, the morning sunlight filtering weakly through the drawn curtains. Her phone sat on the surface, screen dark, a symbol of the chaos she was determined to avoid.

She had turned it off the night before, cutting herself off from the endless barrage of messages, calls, and notifications that followed the public announcement of her divorce. Today, she decided, would be hers. No phones, no family, no drama—just quiet.

With a deep breath, she picked up her coffee mug and cradled it in her hands. The warmth soothed her, though it did little to untangle the knot of anxiety lodged in her chest. She was trying her best to maintain a sense of peace, even if it felt fleeting.

But peace wasn’t something her mother, Helena, allowed for long.

______

The doorbell rang sharply, cutting through the quiet like a blade. Anabella froze, staring toward the door as though she could will it—and whoever stood behind it—away. The ringing came again, followed by a loud knock.

"Anabella, I know you’re in there!"

Her mother’s voice was unmistakable. Low and commanding, it carried an authority that Anabella had spent her entire life trying to escape.

Heart pounding, she debated not answering. Maybe Helena would think she wasn’t home and leave. But Helena wasn’t the type to be deterred.

"I’ll stand out here all day if I have to," Helena called, her tone sharp with irritation. "Do you want your neighbors to see this? Open the door."

Reluctantly, Anabella stood and walked to the door, unlocking it with trembling fingers. She opened it just enough to see her mother’s stern face glaring back at her.

"What do you want, Mother?" Anabella asked, keeping her voice steady.

Helena pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, her movements as purposeful as ever. "What do I want? I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused this family?"

Anabella closed the door with a sigh, bracing herself. "I’ve had enough trouble of my own, Mother. I don’t need more from you."

Helena’s gaze swept over the modest apartment, her lips curling into a sneer. "This is where you’ve chosen to live? After leaving a home like Daniel’s? My God, Anabella, I raised you better than this."

"This is my life," Anabella said, her voice firmer this time. "And I’m doing fine without your input."

elena laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "Fine? You call this fine? You’re living in a shoebox, divorced, and the entire city knows about it. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me? For our family?"

Anabella’s hands balled into fists at her sides. "This isn’t about you, Mother. This is about me trying to move on from a toxic relationship."

"Toxic?" Helena scoffed. "You had everything with Daniel—wealth, status, security. And you threw it all away because you couldn’t handle being a proper omega."

The words hit harder than Anabella wanted to admit, but she refused to let Helena see her falter. "He mated someone else, Mother. He didn’t want me."

"And whose fault is that?" Helena shot back. "You didn’t try hard enough. You let him slip through your fingers. Now look at you—alone and pitiful."

Anabella’s patience snapped. "Get out, Mother. Right now."

Helena raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Or what? You’ll call the police? Go ahead."

Anabella reached for her phone, though her hands trembled. "I will if I have to."

Helena smirked, folding her arms across her chest. "Oh, Anabella. You still don’t get it, do you? Every officer in this city answers to me. You really think they’d side with you over me? You’re an embarrassment, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be."

Anabella froze, her resolve wavering. "You can’t control everything, Mother. Not anymore."

Helena leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. "You’ve always been naive, Anabella. This world isn’t kind to omegas who step out of line. You think you’re strong, but you’re nothing without the family name. Without me."

For a long moment, Anabella stared at her mother, the venomous words hanging in the air between them. She felt a familiar pang in her chest—the old ache of wanting approval, of wanting to belong. But the ache didn’t burn as it used to. Instead, it smoldered, something quieter yet far more dangerous.

"You’re wrong," Anabella said, her voice soft but firm.

Helena arched an eyebrow, her mouth twitching into a smirk that dripped with condescension. "Wrong? You’ve barely held yourself together since you left Daniel, and now you think you know better than me? Don’t delude yourself, Anabella. You’re lost, floundering, and it’s only a matter of time before you come crawling back to me for help."

The words stung, but they didn’t hit as deeply as they once might have. Anabella straightened her back, her hands no longer trembling. "I don’t need you," she said, louder this time. "And I don’t need the family name. I’m done letting you decide what’s best for me."

Helena’s smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. It was fleeting, but Anabella caught it, and it filled her with a surge of determination.

"You think I’m nothing without you?" Anabella continued, her voice gaining strength. "That I can’t survive on my own? Look at me, Mother—I’m still here. I’ve lost almost everything, but I’m still standing. I don’t need your approval, your control, or your threats. I’m done letting you dictate my life."

Helena’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "You don’t know what you’re saying," she hissed, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "This isn’t some fairy tale, Anabella. The world doesn’t care about your independence. You’ll be crushed without my protection."

"Maybe," Anabella admitted, taking a step closer to her mother. "But I’d rather be crushed than live my life as your puppet. At least then, it’s my choice."

Helena’s lips thinned into a hard line, her composed mask slipping just enough to reveal the anger simmering beneath. "You’ll regret this," she said coldly, her voice low and deliberate.