Yay,I deadpanned silently.
On the outside, I smiled. On the inside, everything in me was screaming.
He didn’t know. He still didn’t know.
I hated fried fish.
I always had.
Suddenly, the thought of sitting across from him and pretending again—pretending this was love, that I could keep doing this—made my stomach twist even more. I was about to break a good man’s heart, and he’d made me dinner.
“Will,” I started, but he was already headed into the kitchen, grabbing the food.
My stomach roiled, both from the smell and the impending doom of what a breakup would mean.
“It’s been so long,” he said, turning off the stove and putting the fish on a plate for me. “Us dating, I mean.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, closing my eyes, not knowing where this was going.
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Luna.”
I swallowed, hard.
“You really put me through it when we first got together. Said I was too vanilla. That I wasn’t intense enough. That I didn’t know how tofeelthe way you did.”
He turned then, facing me fully, pride flickering in his eyes like he thought this was the part where I’d kiss him and say thank you.
“I changedyou. Three years. Just me. No two-boyfriend weird stuff. No mess. I made you monogamous.”
That was the line. The invisible one I didn’t even realize I’d drawn, but now that he’d stepped over it, it sliced straight through me.
He thought that was love. He thoughtchanging mewas something to be proud of.
I was Luna fucking Pierson. I stood on stages and told women to be too much, take up space, run wild, be free.
I didn’t let men tame me.
Not unless we were in bed and there was consent and safe words and fun in the giving.
This was control dressed up as devotion.
“You’re right,” I said quietly, sitting down next to him. I reached for his hand and pushed my plate aside.
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“I did change,” I said softly. “Because of you, and I’m so sorry for that.”
“Luna—”
“No.” I cut in, tone still breezy. “Let me finish my big monologue moment.”
He shut his mouth.
“I’m sorry I let it happen. I’m sorry I tried to be palatable for you. That I told myself stability meant silencing the parts of me that scared you.” I stood up, smoothing my hands over my thighs like I was brushing off crumbs. “And for the record? That two-boyfriend ‘weird stuff’? That was the happiest, most alive I’ve ever felt.”
“Luna, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, standing and raising his hands like he could take the words and shove them back into his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant... we’ve been together, and we’re happy, and I’m glad you?—”
“No,” I said softly. “That’s the problem.”
