My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

26: Chapter 26 FAILURE OF A FATHER 26: Chapter 26 FAILURE OF A FATHER KIERAN’S POV

I watched Sera storm away, feeling the ground shift beneath me.

I knew she meant it, and I knew I’d messed up.

Of all the days to oversleep, why did it have to be Daniel’s parent-teacher conference?

I’d promised him I’d be there.

But I hadn’t lied to Sera.

I truly hadn’t been sleeping for a long time.

The moment I closed my eyes, I was right back in Sera’s hallway, reliving that damn kiss.

The feel of her skin under my palms, the taste of her, the desperate need to consume her… It made no sense.

Why now, after the divorce, was I suddenly consumed with this maddening hunger for my ex-wife?

A week of sleepless nights had left me wrecked, and I’d taken the sedative tea to avoid crashing during the conference.

I hadn’t expected it to knock me out cold.

I’d woken to Sera’s furious face.

And she’d mentioned… sending Celeste?

What the hell was that about?

Before I could process it, my phone lit up with Celeste’s name.

“Hello, Kie.

Are you feeling any better?” Her voice was sweet syrup over the line, but I couldn’t ignore the knot of discomfort in my gut.

“Celeste, did you—”

“There’s something I think I should apologize for in advance,” her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I know you’ve been drowning in work, and I just… I felt so bad for you.

When I stopped by the pack house to see you today, you were finally resting so peacefully.

I couldn’t bear to wake you.

But I know how important Daniel’s school things are to you, so I… I went in your place…”

Rage, sharp and clawing, tore through me.

That explained Sera’s fury.

“Celeste,” I ground out, “you overstepped.”

“I know… I know I messed up…” Her voice wavered, turning tearful.

“So… I wanted to do something to make it right…”

“What else did you do?” My patience, usually endless with her, was fraying.

“I swear I only sat through the group session!

Sera did the private meeting afterward… we didn’t even argue,” she rushed out over my icy silence.

“Did I… did I do the wrong thing, Kie?

I just… I wanted to understand Daniel better.

You know we haven’t formally—”

“If you want to know about my son, you ask me,” my voice was harsher than I intended.

“You moved too fast, Celeste.”

“I’m sorry… I was just trying to help…”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, cutting her off.

“Don’t let it happen again, Celeste.”

“Of course, I promise.” The reply was instant, and I could almost picture her raising her fingers in a solemn vow.

“Can you forgive me?”

I couldn’t give her a definite answer, but I also knew it wasn’t entirely her fault.

My own distance, my own confusion, had left her feeling insecure, grasping for a place in my life—even one that she’d hated.

She’d hated parent-teacher conferences.

“I don’t know, Celeste.

I need to call Daniel,” I sighed.

“Okay, okay.

Give him my love.

Remember, I love you.”

She hung up, leaving only the dial tone echoing in my ear.

What kind of shit had I gotten myself into?

I dragged a hand down my face and pulled out the encrypted phone, video-calling Daniel.

One ring, two rings, then it cut off.

My son had never been disrespectful to me.

He was truly upset.

And I was the one who broke his little heart.

I called several more times, each with the same result.

Just as I was considering contacting my parents to check on Daniel, a text came through.

Daniel: Stop calling.

I don’t want to see you.

The blow landed harder than I expected.

My throat worked as I typed a response.

Me: I’m sorry, son.

I shouldn’t have overslept.

A long silence followed, long enough for me to feel the pathetic weight of my own excuse.

Just as I thought he might never reply, his text came.

Daniel: Why did you oversleep?

Have you not been resting well?

My heart stuttered to a halt.

How could I explain to my nine-year-old son that I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about his mother, my ex-wife?

Daniel: Is it because of her?

My heart hammered harder.

How did he know?

For a wild moment, I wondered if he had a psychic link across a thousand miles.

Daniel: Celeste.

No.

My heart plummeted.

That wasn’t the ‘her’ in my mind.

But it should have been, shouldn’t it?

And I could feel the storm brewing behind that name.

Someone had spoken to him…

Daniel: Mom didn’t tell me about her.

A chill ran down my spine.

My son’s intuition was eerily sharp.

Daniel: I heard you and Grandma talking.

Grandma said she’s tired of being Luna.

Guilt, sharp and fresh, stabbed through me.

This was a failure on a whole new level.

My son shouldn’t be learning about the shifting dynamics of his family through overheard conversations.

Me: Danny, listen…

Daniel: There’s something I’ve wanted to ask for a long time, Dad.

Daniel: Why not Mom?

My jaw worked soundlessly—a damn Alpha rendered speechless by his own pup.

My thumbs hovered over the screen, but no words came.

The question was simple, yet it unraveled everything.

The mistakes and complexities of a decade ago weren’t something a nine-year-old could or should bear.

But at the same time, I couldn’t help but ask myself: why had it been so easy to take the woman quietly standing beside me for granted for ten years, only to feel her absence like a phantom limb now that she was gone?

I typed, deleted, typed again.

Nothing felt right—nothing that wouldn’t sound like the hollow, selfish truth it was.

As if tired of waiting for a reply, Daniel’s next text struck with surgical precision.

Daniel: Alright, I see.

You don’t love Mom.

My hand tightened around the phone.

I wanted to deny it, but every possible word of defense felt like ash in my mouth.

How could I claim to have loved her after everything?

After spending years convincing myself my heart belonged to someone else, even as it now beat a frantic, contradictory rhythm?

Daniel: Mom always puts us first.

Even you.

Daniel: You just never saw her.

Each word was an indictment, peeling back layers of my own willful blindness.

Daniel: It’s okay.

I love her.

Daniel: No one could ever take her place as my mom.

And then, nothing more.

I sat there, gutted.

Daniel’s words were few, but each one was a masterstroke.

He was right.

I’d blinded myself, refusing to acknowledge Sera’s goodness—as a mother, as a wife, as the person who’d made countless quiet sacrifices for a family I’d refused to fully let her into.

All because I was too proud to look.

I’d taken her constancy for granted, assuming she’d always be there in the background, ready to give.

And now that she was gone, I was acting like a petulant child, suddenly possessive of a toy I’d discarded.

I was an absolute bastard.

Sighing, I sank deeper into the couch, staring out at the sliver of a new moon.

The Alpha House, vast and imposing, had never felt so oppressively silent.

I’d thought I’d get used to it eventually.

But would I?