Page 9 of Bullied Pregnant Mate

"Yeah, I am," I said.

She gave me a single nod and looked back at the house. "Do you think it's bad? Do you think....it's completely ruined now?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "The kitchen is probably shit now. But from what I saw, it was going to need to be remodeled anyway."

Just then, I spotted Miles waving me over from the front door. I moved, crossed the yard, and hurried over towards him.

"How's it look?" I asked, looking inside. The entryway and dining room seemed fine, but I couldn't really see inside. I could smell it, though; the aftermath of a fire left a strong scent.

"Not terrible, but not great," Miles said, shaking his head. "The kitchen is fucked. The counters, the walls, and the ceiling are ruined. It's going to cost a pretty penny to get this all fixed up."

"Just the kitchen," I asked, wanting to make sure. It would suck, but a kitchen could be fixed.

"It was pretty much just the kitchen, thank god we got here quickly."

I felt a little relieved and then turned, realizing that Gina wasn't next to me. I turned back to where she had been standing, but she wasn't there.

I looked at her car, which was still here, meaning she hadn’t gone far. I hurried off the porch and scanned the front lawn, not seeing her. I then started around the house and went towards the back. Gina sat in a chair with overgrown flowers all around her.

"Hey, Miles just said that the kitchen isn't looking good, but everything else might be okay."

Her lips remained sealed, and she nodded her head. As I walked closer, I realized she had tears trailing down her face.

"Your house is going to be okay," I offered, hoping it would make her feel a little better.

She half chuckled and shook her head. "It's not my house."

"Oh," I stuffed my hands into my pocket. "I just figured… since you were here."

She licked her lips and wiped at her eyes. She sniffled and shook her head. "I mean, it should be as I'm the only living relative, and it's my family, but of course, my family sucks and wants to make my life a living hell, even in death."

I felt my stomach twist up, and she swallowed, taking a deep breath. She placed her hands together. "I can't inherit the house unless I'm married, which I'm not because everyone, including you," she pointed at me. “Have pointed out that no one would ever want me, and my life is worth nothing."

I frowned. "I never said you weren't worthy of anything, Gina."

"Didn't you?" she asked, tilting her head. "You certainly didn't make my life easy. You bullied me, humiliated me, and rejected me."

I frowned, knowing what she meant. I had been friends with her brother a lifetime ago. I only traveled down once or twice a year to see my folks, and even then, I made sure the visits were short. I didn't like being there.

"It's just a house," I offered. "It's not the end of the world."

Her face went cold. "It's not just a house, Lucas. It was everything. It was..." She stopped and looked away. But I wanted her to finish.

"It was what?"

Her eyes went cold. "It was a way for me to finally start over. It was everything I needed." She looked at the house,taking in the broken window. I could hear the guys talking inside, each discussing something that was wrong.

She ran her hands through her scalp and sighed. "So, it really doesn't matter what happened to this house. My great-grandmother, Eddy, died, and instead of giving it to me, she made it clear that I must be married to have it. So, I lied and said I was going to get married."

I scowled. "Well, that doesn't seem fair."

"My life isn't fair," she said simply. "Chris isn't going to let me have it even if the fucking kitchen is no longer usable. I'm not married, so I might as well just drive myself back home to go into a dark hole until everyone forgets about my lie."

I stared at her, feeling that tug to be near her. She was my mate, and I'd never given her anything good. I'd treated her like garbage, and I knew I was partly to blame for everything happening to her. I needed to somehow fix it.

She gripped onto her pants, her nails digging into the fabric. I felt an urge to hold her, to cradle her and tell her I'd fix it. I'd fix it all.

I stuffed my hands into my pocket and sighed. I knew how I could fix it.

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