I Never Regretted Leaving You (Can't Win Me Back)

Chapter 61

She stared at Isabella with a probing look. “I heard from your Sis that you’ve made it big now, become the wife of a rich man?”

Isabella’s heart reflexively tightened in her chest. Every nerve in her body seemed to throb in pain, and for a moment, it felt as though her blood had frozen, her vitality evaporating.

“How did you get here?” she asked, her voice barely audible, trembling.

“You haven’t come to see me in so long,” her mother continued, her voice a mixture of complaint and sorrow. “Bella, I’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. I don’t have long to live. Before I die, I just wanted to see you. I’ve called you so many times, but you never answered. I sent you messages, but you didn’t reply. Have you forgotten me, now that you’ve become successful and don’t want to acknowledge your good–for- nothing mother?”

As she spoke, her mother began to sob uncontrollably.

Isabella stared coldly at the woman who had brought her nothing but misfortune. How dare she come here? When Isabella was so small, her mother had transferred all of her frustrations with Moore’s Father onto her.

She had been abusive–physically and emotionally. She had treated her as nothing more than an outlet for her anger, beating her and kicking her. She had forbidden her from going to school, forcing her to beg on the streets, and then taking

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money

her mother brought on nightmares. It wasn’t that

this cruel woman who was no better than

a doctor. If you came to me, I can’t help you,” Isabella said coldly.

to die soon.” Her mother suddenly reached out, grabbing Isabella’s hand with a desperate look. “There are some things I want to say to you, just the two of us.”

softened slightly. She thought to herself that, after all, they were blood relatives. When someone

said, her voice

nearby bar, just

Isabella said as she

just a housewife with no means of fighting back. I had to leave with you and start from scratch, facing a life of poverty. I was struggling, and I admit I took my frustrations out on your

ran a hand through her hair,

scar on her forehead, her warmth vanished,

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by coldness.

quietly, her voice growing colder with each word. “You beat me until my ribs. were broken. You tortured

didn’t just make my life miserable, you

became awkward and faltered, her words stuttering. “Bella, now everything is better. You’re doing well in life, and that’s all I care about.