Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me novel Chapter 210

And I don’t have the answers.

She leans forward and kisses my forehead. “But you’ll be better than us. Stronger.”

She bends lower, pressing her lips to my swollen stomach, stroking the bump tenderly. “When your bundle of joy comes, you’ll be a better

mother than me.”

My hand rests over my pregnant belly protectively. “I’ll be there for her,” I whisper fiercely. “The way you weren’t there for me and june.”

My mom nods. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

Her image blurs again, but this time, it’s because more tears are gathering in my eyes. “You won’t be there to see.”

“Yes, honey,“–for a split second, her face comes into focus and her eyes sparkle with a shine that died long before she did-“I will.”

Her smile wavers at the edges, and the lavender–and–spice scent begins to thin, replaced by the metallic chill of the original nightmare.

The warmth in the room ebbs, the colors fading to muted grays.

My mother’s outline softens, edges dissolving into the air like smoke.

I clutch her hands, desperate to keep her here, but my fingers close on nothing.

The humming returns faintly, but it’s lower now–slower, as though it’s winding down.

“Mom-” My voice breaks.

She’s already gone.

I jolt awake, my breath sharp and uneven.

But instead of cold sweat and the hollow ache I’m used to, I’m in the safe, solid circle of Nathan’s arms. His chest is warm against my back, his steady heartbeat grounding me.

“Hey,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with sleep. “I’m here.”

His arms tighten around me, and just like he’s done for the last five thanksgivings I’ve woken up in his arms, he murmurs, “It’s all in the past. June lived. You’re safe; you’re fine. I love you. I’ll never leave you.”

I exhale, a soft smile pulling at my lips. “Actually…it was different this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw my mom.” My voice is hoarse, and I push the remaining words out through the lump of emotion in my throat. “She was alive. We

talked.”

Nathan shifts so he can see my face, and I don’t realize I’m crying until he brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “What did she

say?”

I swallow the lump. “That she was proud of me. That I’d be a better mother than her.”

His expression softens into that mix of tenderness and fierce devotion that still floors me after all these years. “She’s right about that.”

I smile faintly, my fingers curling in the fabric of his night shirt. Over the last four years, Nathan has been my anchor, my cheerleader, my best friend. The love of my life.

“Four years,” I whisper. “And somehow, I love you more every day.”

“I love you more every second,” he says, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Keep up, baby. You’re lagging behind.”

The laugh that bubbles out of me is shaky and giddy, quickly muffled as his lips find mine, slow and deep.

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