Chapter 275: Chapter 275 Love Beyond Scars
Phoebe’s POV
Timothy’s expression darkened when I shared what I’d learned about Jude. "She has a child? She..." His words trailed off as understanding dawned on him, revealing the true scope of the problem.
I could see him processing this revelation. He’d already come to terms with her past trauma—the harassment, the unwanted advances from other men. That was something done against her will, something she couldn’t control.
But a child? That changed everything. A child was permanent proof, a constant reminder.
Every glance at that little one would bring back memories of what happened. I watched Timothy struggle with this realization, knowing he couldn’t view the child positively despite understanding the innocent nature of it all.
That’s exactly why I’d stopped him earlier—he needed clarity before charging ahead blindly after Jude, before exploding with this knowledge while in her presence.
"Does she... accept the child?" The question clearly tormented him. I could see the self-loathing in his eyes for even questioning a child’s place.
"Absolutely. She adores that little girl with every fiber of her being. The child’s name is Harlow—she’s six now, conceived when Jude was just fifteen." I held nothing back. He deserved the complete truth.
His face crumpled with fresh anguish.
"Damn it! Damn it all!" Timothy began pacing frantically, his boot connecting hard with a nearby tree trunk. More curses spilled out as he continued his agitated march. "Damn it! Fifteen? She was just a baby herself!"
I watched him grapple with the horror of it—how anyone could prey on a fifteen-year-old child, how Jude endured pregnancy and childbirth at such a vulnerable age.
"I’ll tear them apart! Every last one!" His roar echoed through the trees, rage seeking a target. "I’ll destroy them all!" Then frustration hit him again—most of his targets were already dead by his own hand, which only intensified his fury.
I stayed back, letting him work through the storm of emotions. He needed this release—the cursing, the pacing, the raw anger. Finally, exhaustion won. He collapsed to the ground, head buried in his hands, low growls still rumbling from his chest.
When his breathing steadied, I approached carefully and settled beside him on the earth.
"Your anger makes sense, Timothy," I said softly, resting my hand on his tense shoulder. "This situation is incredibly difficult, but I need you to focus on what really matters."
He grunted but didn’t pull away—progress.
"What?"
"Do you want her?" I met his eyes directly. "Because wanting her means accepting her daughter too. You can’t treat that child poorly or differently. Harlow would become yours as much as Jude’s."
Another groan escaped him. "How am I supposed to do that?" His voice broke slightly. "I could handle anything else about her past, anything at all. I’d love her more for surviving it. But that child... she’s living proof of what Jude endured." The question tumbled out before he could stop it: "Why does she even love the kid?"
The self-hatred was immediate, but I wouldn’t judge him for the honest struggle.
"Because she’s a mother," I said simply, taking his hand and squeezing gently. "Mothers love their children regardless of circumstances." I waited until he looked at me. "And remember—Harlow is part of Jude too. Yes, she represents suffering, but she also represents Jude’s incredible strength and the size of her heart."
The internal battle was written across his features. Through our bond as gamma and Luna, I felt every conflicted emotion. He was like a brother to me—I knew his heart.
"I’m lost, Phoebe. Completely lost... can’t think straight..." His hands pressed against his temples. "I don’t know what to feel anymore."
My heart ached for him. I leaned against his shoulder, offering what comfort I could. "Take all the time you need. I’ll speak with Jude too."
"What exactly will you tell her? That I’m rejecting her child?" The disgust in his voice was directed entirely at himself.
"We’ll figure that out together when you’re ready."
"Timothy found his mate?" Perry slipped into bed beside me, his skin warm and clean from his shower. "That explains the chaos I felt through our bond this afternoon."
"He did, but there’s a serious complication." I moved closer, wrapping my arms around him tightly, needing his strength.
"She turned him down?"
"Not exactly..." I explained the entire situation, frustration seeping into my voice at how complex it all was. "What would you do in his position?"
"Kill the child, keep the woman." His casual tone made me smack his chest hard.
"Perry!"
"Accept them both." His real answer came with a gentle smile as he pulled me closer.
"That simple?"
"What’s complicated about it?"
"The child represents..." I couldn’t finish the thought. My fear was that Timothy might force acceptance only to resent Harlow later. I knew the pain of a father’s hatred too well to wish that on any child.
"You mean because of how she was conceived?" He raised an eyebrow. "If I love someone, I love everything about them—their scars, their history, their shadows, their light. I’d love every thorn they’ve ever touched. No exceptions."
His words settled something deep in my chest. I knew this truth about him already—Perry loved me completely, flaws and all.
I sighed, sinking deeper into his embrace, hoping Timothy would find his way to the same conclusion.
