Page 77 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

The majority of the pack has accepted her completely, but there are still a handful holding onto old assumptions and old prejudices; they’re becoming fewer every day, at least. Watching that change happen has been one of the greatest reliefs of my life, and even if I want them all to come around, I can’t push it.

For the most part, they finally see what I’ve always seen. They see her, the strength she possesses, and all the reasons I have to keep her in my life.

Tessa squeezes my hand in quiet encouragement, and that alone spurs me on.

“There’s another reason we called everyone together,” I add, well aware of both the anticipation welling in my chest and the bond that stays warm and content between us.

Immediately, the room becomes even quieter, and even Dominic finally stops eating.

I sense Tessa’s amusement at the fact, but she keeps it in well enough.

“Tessa and I are expecting,” I tell them, knowing how much realer it feels now. “We’re having a baby.”

For a heartbeat, silence fills the space, then the words seem to settle in, and many faces melt into mutual excitement. Cheers erupt from various directions, and several wolves whistle loudly. Of course, the guys make most of the noise.

My mother presses a hand over her mouth, eyes softer now. Cole and Mary beam, looking just as proud.

Tessa immediately blushes softly as congratulations begin flying toward us from every corner of the hall, but she holds my hand through it all anyway.

The reaction hits me harder than I expected, since they look genuinely happy for us, and for her. Those who gradually warmed up to her aren’t just accepting Tessa anymore. Instead, they’re celebrating her, our future, and the child that I already know will be surrounded by love from day one.

The realization warms me entirely as I prepare myself for a future that once felt impossible. Now, it’s standing directly in front of me.

I already know that not everyone will be thrilled by the news, and some are still on the fence about Tessa being here, but I refuse to let that dim our excitement. As much as I value most opinions from the pack, I won’t sacrifice my happiness to mend every small complaint.

They’ll come around eventually, but for now, I’m basking in this.

Eventually, the excitement settles into smaller conversations as we break off. People approach in groups, offering congratulations and well wishes, with some asking Tessa attentive questions.

We thank them all and see as many of them as we can, completely swathed in the kind of recognition and comfort I’ve been wanting Tessa to have for some time now.

At some point, while everyone else becomes distracted, my mother slowly makes her way toward us, and the moment I see the expression on her face, I know this is about more than the baby. Tessa notices, too.

Mom stops in front of us, and for several seconds, she simply looks at us, then she exhales.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while now, and I think it’s time I finally spit it out,” she admits.

Tessa remains quiet, looking a little guarded, but not as much as she used to be.

The honesty in her voice immediately captures my attention, and I give her a subtle nod of encouragement.

Mom looks older than she did a year ago. Rather than physically, it all seems emotional, more like she has spent these last months trying to wrangle with something that was long buried.

“When Hunter’s father died, I needed someone to blame,” she begins, gaze on Tessa now. “I knew from the start that you had nothing to do with Daniel’s death, but after I learned that Hunter intended to take you as his mate, the truth of it seemed more complicated. I blamed your family for what happened without hesitation, and eventually, I started blaming you too.”

The admission isn’t an easy one, yet one she makes anyway, regardless of how painful it seems to bring it all up again.

My wolf shifts uneasily at the more sensitive subject, but I reel it in, allowing her to continue.

“You never deserved that,” Mom continues. “It took my own son reminding me again and again that you were just a child for me to truly accept that. It wasn’t right for me to take it out on you, or your parents, for that matter.”

Tessa’s expression softens, filling with the kind of understanding that can’t be faked. “You were grieving.”

“I was, but that doesn’t excuse it. I had years to come to terms with this, and I should’ve worked harder to forgive what was out of everyone’s control. I let myself stew in my grief, and it nearly cost me this… seeing you two together, and building a future together,” Mom says, taking a small step forward to gently gather Tessa’s hands in her own. I’m sorry, Tessa. For the resentment, the judgment, and I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.”

The sincerity in her voice is unmistakable and lacking excuses. She means it, and we all know it.

For several moments, Tessa simply studies her, then she smiles. It’s gentle and genuine, making her look all the more like a gracious luna.