His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 45: Mom!!

Chapter 45- Mom

Tyler's POV

And without wasting a second, Declan and his new wife started devouring each other's mouths.

I gagged.

The sight was beyond disgusting.

The way he kissed her, the way he held her—it was wrong. It was all wrong. It wasn't just the sickening display of affection that turned my stomach; it was the fact that Declan was acting like everything was perfect. Like he hadn't just ruined my life. Like he hadn't just stood there and lied to my face.

I couldn't hold it in.

The nausea hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me in suffocating waves. My chest tightened, my stomach twisted, and I barely had enough sense to turn around and rush out of the hall before I lost it.

I barely made it to the restroom in time.

I collapsed against the sink, gripping the edges with white-knuckled hands as I heaved violently, emptying everything in my stomach. It felt endless—like my body was trying to purge.

When it was finally over, I was left panting, weak, my throat raw and burning. My hands trembled as I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white, willing myself to get a grip.

But I couldn't.

The sick feeling lingered.

I straightened up, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes bloodshot. I looked like a wreck. And maybe I was.

Because the truth was, nothing felt real anymore.

When I finally stepped back out, the wedding ceremony was over.

The reception had already started.

The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all blurred together into a meaningless noise. I moved through it like a ghost, numb, detached. I wasn't listening, wasn't watching, wasn't caring.

I wasn't there.

At some point, I realized Declan was gone.

Good.

I didn't ask where he went.

I didn't care.

My mind was somewhere else entirely—trapped in a cycle of unanswered questions and gnawing dread. My mother was supposed to be here. I had clung to that hope, convinced she would show up before the wedding ended. But she hadn't.

Declan better go look for her and bring her back to me.

He had to.

Or so help me, I'd burn everything down to get her back.

I drifted off again, my mind drowning in a sea of thoughts.

Everything felt distant—like I wasn't even here. The noise of the wedding reception, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—it all blurred into nothingness. I wasn't present. Not really.

Then, I heard my name.

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"Tyler."

It was soft but clear enough to snap me back to reality. I blinked, shaking off the haze, and turned around.

Logan.

The moment my eyes landed on him, everything else faded—every ache, every doubt, every suffocating thought vanished as if they never existed. It was just him. Just Logan.

He smiled.

And just like that, my world melted.

I didn't even realize I was smiling back until I felt the slight curve of my lips. It was instinctive, like my body had acted before my mind could catch up. The weight pressing on my chest, the storm in my head, all of it seemed to lighten in an instant.

I wanted to go to him.

No, I needed to go to him.

There was so much I needed to say, so much I needed to ask—about the kiss, about everything. My feet moved before I even thought about it, carrying me toward him.

But just as I was about to reach him, someone stepped in front of me.

I stopped abruptly, my eyes narrowing in frustration as I looked up to see who had blocked my path.

And then, my heart nearly stopped.

It was her.

My mom.

For a second, I couldn't breathe. My mind went blank, completely erasing every thought of Logan. I forgot everything—why I was walking, who I was looking for, what I was supposed to say.

All that mattered was that she was here.

She was okay.

A raw, overwhelming wave of relief crashed over me, drowning me in an emotion I couldn't name. I felt my chest tighten, my throat closing up, but in the best way possible. Without thinking, without hesitating, I rushed toward her.

"Mom!"

I pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly, afraid that if I let go, she'd disappear again. She hugged me back, and for a brief moment, everything felt right. Everything felt like it was supposed to.

When we pulled apart, I studied her face, searching for any sign of distress, any sign that she had been hurt.

"How did you escape?" I asked, my voice shaky. "Did they let you go? Are you okay?"

She froze for a split second—so fast that if I hadn't been watching her closely, I would've missed it. A nervous flicker crossed her face before she quickly replaced it with a small smile.

"Kidnapped?" she repeated, tilting her head slightly. "I wasn't kidnapped, Tyler. I'm fine."

I frowned, my stomach twisting. Something wasn't right.

"But you weren't answering my calls," I pressed. "I overheard Declan talking about you—he said you were kidnapped. Even his guards were acting strange."

She shook her head quickly. Too quickly.

"I wasn't kidnapped," she insisted. "Maybe Declan was just joking or something. I saw your calls, but I didn't pick up because I needed rest. That's all. There's nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about?

I stared at her, my heart pounding. She was lying. I knew she was.

Her face—her swollen face—told me everything.

I didn't even have to ask. I could see it. The bruises. The faint swelling along her cheekbones. The way she avoided my eyes.

She had been hurt. Badly.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to act normal. To pretend, just like she was.

Letting out a fake laugh, I opened my arms again, this time watching her reaction closely.

She hesitated.

Then, slowly, she stepped forward, letting me embrace her again.

I tightened my hold. Not too much, just enough to test something. Just enough to see if my suspicion was right.

She flinched.

A small, pained gasp slipped out of her lips before she could stop it.

I immediately pulled back.

"Mom?" I asked, my voice laced with concern. "Are you okay? Why did you flinch? Are you hurt?"

Her expression shifted in an instant. She forced another smile—one that didn't reach her eyes—and shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said too quickly. "I just need to check on something. I'll be back soon."

And before I could say another word, she turned and walked away, almost too fast.

I watched her disappear into the crowd, my jaw clenching.

She was hiding something.

I knew it.

And no matter what it took, I was going to find out the truth.

I was going to find out why she kept quiet, why she lied—why she endured whatever had been done to her and still pretended like nothing happened.