Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One - Chapter 204

Chapter 204: Feeling Guilty
Hailee’s POV

I didn’t sleep that night.

No matter how tightly I shut my eyes, the darkness wasn’t kind enough to take me. Every time I tried to rest, the memory of what happened came rushing back.

My stomach twisted each time I thought about it.

He heard everything. Every sound. Every word. Every part of me that should have stayed private.

By dawn, I was still sitting by the window, my hair messy, my body wrapped in a robe I hadn’t bothered to tie properly. The world outside was quiet—too quiet. I could hear the faint chirping of birds, the soft rustle of the wind. It felt unfair that the world could sound so peaceful when I was falling apart inside.

I had called him four times. Texted twice. Each time, it went straight to voicemail. I even typed out a long message explaining that it wasn’t what he thought—that it just happened, that I didn’t plan it, that I didn’t mean to hurt him—but I never sent it. Because no matter how I tried to shape the words, they all sounded like lies.

The truth was, I had wanted it.

I had wanted Callum.

And that truth was what hurt most of all.

When the first light of morning crept into the room, I stood up and caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and red. My face pale. I looked like someone else—someone guilty, confused, and lost.

A soft knock came at the door.

“Hailee?” Callum’s voice. Low, calm, careful.

I swallowed hard and forced my voice to sound steady. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, dressed neatly as if nothing had happened. His eyes found me instantly, scanning my face, my messy hair, and the robe slipping off one shoulder.

“You didn’t sleep,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

I shook my head. “No.”

He hesitated for a moment, then came closer. “You’ve been crying.”

I looked away, pretending to straighten the robe. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

I wanted to. I really did. But the words stuck like thorns in my throat. How was I supposed to tell him that I’d been in his arms one minute and breaking another man’s heart the next?

So I forced a small smile instead. “I just didn’t rest well. That’s all.”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded slowly, as if choosing to believe my lie. “Breakfast will be ready soon,” he said. “Join me when you can.”

When he left, I sank onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands.

His tone had been gentle, calm, even understanding—but I could feel it. The distance. The way something between us had shifted overnight.

And maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe it was me.

The memory of Nathan haunted me. He didn’t deserve this. None of it.

A tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it.

“What have I done?” I whispered to the empty room.

The guilt sat heavy in my chest, heavier than anything I’d ever felt. Callum might have my body, but my heart was split—torn between men who didn’t deserve the mess I had become.

I stared at my phone one last time. No new messages. No missed calls.

Just silence.

And somehow, that silence hurt worse than anything Nathan could have said. I wanted him to call me, to yell at me, to scream at me—it was better than this silence.

By the time the clock struck eight, I forced myself to get up. My body felt heavy, every step like I was walking through mud. I took my bath, moved to the closet, picked the first simple dress I saw, and slipped it on without even caring how it looked. My fingers trembled slightly as I brushed through my tangled hair and tied it back.

When I glanced at the mirror again, I didn’t look much better—but at least I looked… put together. Barely.

I needed to see the boys.

I took a deep breath and headed to their room. The moment I opened the door, three heads turned in my direction—Oliver sitting on the bed, reading a book; Oscar tying his bootlaces; and Ozzy scribbling something in his sketchpad.

They all froze when they saw me.

Oliver spoke first, his voice soft but sharp with concern. “Mom, you look… tired.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just didn’t sleep much.”

Oscar frowned. “You’ve been crying again.” His tone wasn’t a question—it was an observation, one that made my chest ache.

I glanced at him, surprised. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “Your eyes. They’re red.”

Ozzy put down his pencil and walked up to me quietly. “Did something happen?”

The question almost broke me. His voice was so calm, so sincere. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them the truth—that their mother’s heart was at war with itself.

“No,” I said softly, smoothing his hair. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Oliver didn’t look convinced. “You’re lying.”

I blinked. “What?”

He crossed his arms—acting older than his age. “You only say you’re fine when something’s wrong. You think we don’t notice, but we do.”

A weak laugh escaped my lips. “Since when did my boys become so wise?”

“Since we had to grow up,” Oscar said simply, slipping his jacket on.

The words stung more than they should have.

I sighed, forcing another smile. “Let’s go have breakfast before everything gets cold.”

They exchanged glances before following me down the hall.

When we reached the dining room, Callum was already there, sitting at the head of the table. He looked up the moment we entered. His expression softened at the sight of the boys, but his gaze lingered on me.

“Good morning,” he greeted gently.

“Morning,” I replied, taking my seat beside the boys.

The maids served breakfast—plates of eggs, fruit, and bread—but I couldn’t eat. I pushed the food around my plate, pretending, while the boys chatted excitedly about their morning play.

Callum noticed. I could feel his eyes on me more than once, but he didn’t say anything—not in front of them. The silence between us stretched like glass, delicate and ready to break.

Then, with a sudden spark of effort, he smiled at the boys. “Do you know what’s happening tonight?” he asked, his voice warm.

The boys perked up instantly. “What?” they all asked in unison.

Callum leaned back in his chair, his tone playful. “The Lunar Festival,” he said. “It’s held once every year when the full moon shines brightest. There’ll be music, lights, dancing, games, and even a feast. The whole pack will be there.”

Their eyes lit up like stars. “Can we go?” Oliver asked eagerly.

Callum chuckled. “Of course you can. You’ll get to see the fireworks, too.”

Oscar raised a brow. “Fireworks?”

“Yes,” Callum said, smiling now. “And there’s a moonlight race, food stalls, and a fire dance at midnight. It’s the biggest night of the year for the pack.”

The boys laughed and started talking all at once—about what they’d wear, what food they’d try, what games they wanted to see. Their excitement filled the room with warmth and noise.

But I sat there, lost. Their words faded into background sound.

Callum was conversing with the boys, but every time he smiled, I saw something in his eyes that hurt. He knew I wasn’t truly there. He knew my thoughts were far away, trapped somewhere.

I picked up my teacup and tried to hide my trembling hands.

I smiled when the boys laughed, nodded when Callum spoke, but inside… I was hollow.

Because no matter how hard I tried to focus on the present, I couldn’t escape the one truth replaying in my mind—

I don’t want to lose Nathan.