Luna looked straight at me, right through the screen, and said the words I hadn’t dared to imagine.
“I can’t be with Will anymore. I tried. I really did. But... my heart’s somewhere else.”
It was like time slowed. My throat closed, and my heart did that fucked up skip it always did when she was near, except she wasn’t. She was thousands of miles away, and I still felt it.
“I-I needed to say that,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. “I’m gonna talk to Nova and... I’ll call you after.”
Just like that, she was gone. The screen dimmed, the silence loud.
I leaned back against the mattress, the ceiling above me blurred slightly, static white in a room that was too cold.
She said she couldn’t be with Will anymore.
My brain kept replaying it on a loop, like maybe if I turned it over enough times, I’d find something new buried in her tone—some hesitation, some regret. There wasn’t any.
She wasn’t saying she wanted me. Not yet, but she’d admitted she didn’t want him. That her heart was somewhere else.
Damn it if that didn’t punch a hole in me. Because I hated how good that felt.
I should’ve felt bad for how torn up she sounded, for how lost she looked. I did. Christ, I did. But I also felt this twisted, low-burning kind of hope that scared the hell out of me.
Because no one compared. Not in four years.
Not one woman had made me feel what Luna made me feel with a single, breathy laugh or tired sigh. No one had ruined me like her and somehow still held the power to heal me.
That was a dangerous kind of love. The kind that didn’t go away, no matter how hard you tried.
I dragged a hand over my face and exhaled slowly. She didn’t promise anything, but something had shifted between us. Something dormant was finally stirring.
I was going to do everything in my goddamn power to make sure Luna Pierson came home.
6
luna
I was a horrible person. I already knew that about myself—hadknown it, honestly. I’d decided I was a horrible person the moment I invited myself over to Will’s house, fully aware I was going there to end things. Smiling like nothing was wrong. Pretending I hadn’t already made up my mind.
The worst part was, I’d known long before that night. The truth had been creeping in for months. It started in moments like?—
It was the first properly warm weekend after a long, gray winter. The kind of rare London day where the sun actually stuck around long enough to make plans for. Nova had suggested a double date—me and Will, her and Ollie—insisting it would be fun since her in-laws were visiting and she needed an excuse to get out of the house.
Ollie had found this little pub garden tucked away off a cobbled side street in Battersea. Wooden benches. String lights overhead. The smell of fried chips and beer in the air. It had that charming, slightly grimy feel like half the tables might give you a splinter, but that was part of the appeal.
Will had his arm around me as we walked. He squeezed my shoulder, smiled like this was the life he’d always pictured for himself. I told myself: This should feel good. I should be happy.
We sat on a weather-worn bench under a canopy of fairy lights, the sun dipping low behind the buildings. Will kept nudging me with his knee, laughing at whatever dumb story Ollie was telling. Nova was already tearing the crust off her cheese toastie like she did it without thinking, and I caught myself watching her—how easy she was with Ollie. How seen she looked.
When the waitress came, I parted my lips to order, but Will jumped in before I could.
“She’ll have the battered perch, mushy peas on the side, extra tartare.” He winked.
I smiled like it was cute. Like that wasn’t the exact kind of meal that made my stomach turn.
I ate a few bites to be polite. Nova slid me half of her chips under the table without a word. She knew, but Will never noticed. He was too busy rattling off beer names with Ollie and bragging about how he’d managed to book the “perfect spot” before the pub garden filled up.
It was supposed to be a good night. And technically, it was.
Yet sitting there, surrounded by laughter and fading light and people I loved... I’d never felt more quietly alone.
