The Bride Widow
Chapter 163: No time to rest - Part 2

Chapter 163: 163: No time to rest - Part 2

"You’ve been working yourself too hard," the manager insisted. "Everyone needs a break sometimes. Maybe you should take a day off, rest, and come back refreshed."

Anabella shook her head, a hint of stubbornness in her eyes. "I can’t. I need to keep going."

The manager frowned, not wanting to push too hard but unable to ignore the signs. "Please, just think about it," she urged gently. "We care about you, Anabella."

Anabella nodded absentmindedly, already turning back to her work, signaling the end of the conversation.

Later that day, the bell above the bakery door jingled, signaling new customers. Anabella looked up to see Clair and Noah entering, their expressions brightening at the sight of her. They had taken to visiting her often, their presence a comforting reminder of their support.

"Hey, Anabella!" Clair greeted, her smile warm but her eyes quickly narrowing as she took in Anabella’s pale complexion and dark circles under her eyes. "Are you okay? You look exhausted."

Noah stepped closer, concern evident in his gaze. "Yeah, you don’t look like you’re getting much rest."

Anabella waved a flour-dusted hand dismissively, forcing a laugh. "I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. The usual bakery rush, you know?"

Clair exchanged a glance with Noah, both of them unconvinced but unwilling to push her too hard in public. "If you say so," Clair murmured, her voice laced with doubt. "But maybe you should take it easy."

"I’ll be fine," Anabella insisted, the edges of her smile faltering slightly. "Thanks for checking in, though."

As they left, Clair and Noah shared a look of mutual concern. Anabella’s laughter might have fooled others, but not them.

They knew something deeper was troubling her, and they resolved to find a way to help, whether Anabella was ready to accept it or not.

Anabella continued to push herself at the bakery, her every movement mechanical, her mind locked in a haze of fatigue.

She could feel a heaviness settling into her bones, a sign that she might be coming down with something.

The occasional dizzy spell and the faint ache in her limbs were becoming harder to ignore, but she dismissed them, focusing instead on kneading dough and serving customers.

Her gaze drifted to the calendar hanging on the wall, the dates meticulously marked with various reminders. As she scanned the days, her eyes stopped on a particular date circled in red.

The significance of it felt just out of reach, lingering at the edge of her memory. She frowned, trying to recall why she had marked that day, but the answer evaded her.

Suddenly, a sharp pang shot through her lower abdomen, causing her to gasp and clutch her stomach.

The sensation was familiar, too familiar, and it made her pale. Her breath quickened as realization dawned—her heat was approaching. The tightening in her core and the subtle, growing warmth spreading through her body confirmed it.

Anabella’s hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the counter, her mind racing. She wasn’t ready for this.

Not now, not when her life was already spiraling out of control. The thought of enduring a heat in her current state, vulnerable and alone, filled her with fear.

Her heat had always been a private, well-managed affair, something she prepared for meticulously to avoid any disruptions or public embarrassment.

But this time, the usual signs had crept up on her without warning, catching her off guard.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm, but the gnawing dread in her chest wouldn’t subside.

Anabella knew she had to prepare, to make arrangements to manage her heat away from prying eyes and potential dangers. But the thought of being alone, isolated during such an intense time, made her heart pound with anxiety.

She glanced around the bakery, her familiar sanctuary, now feeling more like a trap. She needed to find a way out, to retreat to the safety of her home where she could handle this on her terms.

But with her workload piling up and the thought of facing Clair and Noah’s worried faces, she felt trapped.

Anabella took a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She couldn’t let this break her, not now. She would finish her shift, make some excuse, and get home before the heat overwhelmed her completely.

She hoped she could hide this from everyone, to maintain the facade of control she had clung to so desperately.

As another wave of discomfort rolled through her, Anabella knew time was running short. She had to act fast, or she risked exposing her vulnerability in front of the entire bakery.

With renewed determination, she pushed off from the counter, steeling herself for the hours ahead, aware that the real challenge was only just beginning.

Anabella paced around her living room, every step feeling like a monumental effort.

The pangs of her approaching heat were growing stronger, and her body felt heavy and sluggish, as if weighed down by an unseen force.

She needed to get out of the house to buy some essential supplies before her heat fully took hold, but each movement was a struggle.

She tried to muster the strength to get to the door, her fingers trembling as she reached for the handle.

Her body, however, refused to cooperate. Her legs felt weak, threatening to give out beneath her, and her vision blurred slightly as a wave of dizziness hit her. S

he leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths in a futile attempt to steady herself.

"I can do this," she whispered, trying to convince herself.

But even as the words left her lips, her body disagreed. The heat was sapping her energy, making her feel like she was wading through thick mud with every step.

Anabella knew she didn’t have much time. If she didn’t get the supplies now, she’d be stuck at home, unprepared and vulnerable during her heat.

The thought of being caught unprepared filled her with dread. She had to push through, no matter how difficult it was.

With a shaky resolve, she forced herself upright, her hand gripping the door handle tightly for support.

She couldn’t let this stop her. Not yet. She had to move, to get what she needed before it was too late.

Gathering what little strength she had left, Anabella opened the door and stepped outside, determined to fight through her body’s resistance.

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