Mated To My Best Friend's Lycan Alpha Brothers-Chapter 405: Why Are You Crying?

(Author’s POV)

"Have you lost all manners?" Diana reprimanded Yelena, loud enough, to catch everyone’s attention. The guest, the staff members, even the guy playing the piano stopped midway and looked at them.

Yelena could feel her cheeks getting hot; she was thoroughly embarrassed as she settled back in her seat. She then mumbled while stammering, "I just~ .... I just saw Myra. So, that’s why~ ...."

"Tskkk~ .... so, you saw her, and you thought to let go of all the etiquette you have studied up till now. You cannot handle your cutlery properly. Did all that money spent on etiquette classes go to waste? And what will that girl even be here for? Stop making things up," Diana asked with a frown.

"Grandmother, Myra had a dinner appointment scheduled. That’s why~ ... she is~ ..." Yelena tried to explain, but Diana cut her off, "That girl, does she have such a social standing where she could come to such a fancy place for a dining experience. Stop lying."

Yelena was about to speak when Garry returned, "The call took a bit long. So, what were you both talking about?"

"Nothing, your granddaughter was just crafting a lie to get out of here," Diana said straight forwardly.

Garry’s brows wrinkled at his wife’s words, as Yelena explained, her voice soft, "I swear, I was not lying. Mrs. Amy Garcia, the wife of the Garcia Group of Industries CEO, Sebastian Garcia. She invited Myra for a dinner meeting tonight."

"Huhh?" Garry, who was about to pick up his cutlery, paused. His eyes held something unusual. He asked, "Ms. Miracle is here, at this restaurant? Invited by Mrs. Amy Garcia? How did she get to know someone like her?"

"Exactly," Diana raised the same question.

"Ummm~ ... yes, grandpa," Yelena answered clumsily. "She helped Mrs. Garcia with something, so Mrs. Garcia wanted to show gratitude and eventually invited her for dinner." Garry was baffled to hear it, his eyes widened. He thought, ’Is it time now?’ Then, shaking his head, he mumbled, almost inaudibly, "No matter how much someone tries to run away from their fate, they will end up right at its mercy." A deep, tiresome sigh escaped his mouth.

"Garry~ .... Garry~ .... What happened? Why are you not eating?" Diana inquired.

"Uhh~ ... nothing," he picked up his fork and knife and resumed his usual demeanour.

Yelena was getting a bit antsy at this point. Ever since she saw Myra running off, she had been having a rather odd feeling. As she couldn’t leave right now, she decided to send a message instead, "Myra, are you done with your dinner meeting?

She waited and waited, but there was no reply. She then texted again, "I am at the same restaurant and saw you going somewhere. Did you leave already?"

Same old. No answer.

"Myra, why aren’t you replying?"

"Are you still having dinner?"

"Are you busy?"

"Did something happen?"

"Myra, reply to me ASAP."

She left a trail of messages, her eyes glued to the phone screen.

"Yelena, what are you busy with? Your meal is getting all cold," Garry queried. She quickly placed the phone in her pocket and said, "Nothing."

__________________________

(Myra’s POV)

"Please~ .... Mrs. Garcia~ ...." I pleaded for her to stop. Whatever she wanted to say, she wanted to "announce," I don’t want to hear it. She tried to reach my hand, but I flinched, instinctively and averted my gaze as well. I could feel my eyes stinging and turning moist. I don’t want to be seen like this. Not to her, not to anyone else.

The majestic view of skyscrapers bathed in light, the sumptuous masterpieces, the loving and kind family, everything was making me feel suffocated in that moment. I could feel the oxygen getting stuck in my windpipe.

I just wanted to get out of that enclosed space and return home. That was the only thought running through my mind. I somehow scrambled out of the private room and started darting aimlessly, regardless of how I looked to the passersby.

Luckily, the direction I was heading was the same as the elevator’s. I pressed the button and hopped in, fat, uncontrollable tears streaming down my cheeks and wetting my face as well as chin by now.

The elevator was spacious and empty, which gave me time to get a hold of my nerves and scattered emotions, ’Myra~ .... calm down. You need to calm down and get a grip on yourself.’ I kept repeating this in my head, but could feel my body tremble.

As I was deep in thought, the elevator door slid open on the sixteenth floor, and in came a few of the hotel guests. I wiped off my tears quickly and lowered my head, concealing my face with my hair.

The people who entered seemed to be a family of three, husband, wife and a little child, a daughter. Standing between her father and mother, the girl was smiling prettily as she spoke, her voice feathery and singsongly, "Mamma~ .... Papa~ .... Sia wants to have cake~ .... a laaaargeeeee~ .... one with a uni~.... uni~ ...." She fumbled innocently.

"Ohk, my princess. It’s your fourth birthday. We will get you a large unicorn cake, hmm," her mother gave her a radiant smile and replied. By that girl’s reaction, I could tell she was over the moon, tapping her feet, doing a silly dance with her small body.

The scene made me choke. The tears I somehow managed to get a hold of flooded out again as I sobbed. At the fragile age of four, when kids enjoy their mother’s embrace and their father’s doting. I was getting beaten up daily, sometimes hourly, without any reason.

At such a delicate age, where children were getting treats and cakes and everything they wanted, I was rotting in that orphanage, eating stale food, and sometimes that wasn’t even given. Then I had to steal from the trash can for the leftovers.

The gruesome flashback of my tattered childhood clogged my mind intensely. The thought of abandonment, which I have been insecure about all my life, came crashing down on me.

My sniffling must have caught the little girl’s attention as she turned around and cooed softly, "Ma’am~ .... why aal~ you~ .... crying?"

To Be Continued . . . . . . . .