How she and Poppy managed to keep a straight face, Wren had no idea. Choosing to stand next to Luna so that she didn’t have to look at her—that hat! That flamingo!—she scanned the crowd for her father. “I take it you saw Chester ambling around?”
“Saw him? I tore twenty strips off him for being the most useless father alive,” Luna retorted, her expression fierce. Luna was batshit, everyone knew that, but she was ridiculously protective of the people she loved. She and Poppy were at the top of the list of Wren’s favorite people.
Luna looked at her and sighed, her expression glum. Her hat, and the flamingo, seemed to droop along with her mood.
“Christ.I told your mother not to hook up with him, but did she listen to me? The fuck she did. I told her that she didn’t have to marry the first guy she slept with, but she went ahead, thinking that, since she’d accepted his proposal, she had to go through with the ceremony.”
“But then, if mom hadn’t slept with Chester, then I might not be here,” Wren told Luna. “And I quite like my life.”
Luna sighed. “And my life would be so much emptier without you.” She looked at Poppy. “Or you, in it.” She placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “I’m going to ask the coven to put a spell on your father so that his dick falls off.”
Wren laughed. “That’s a marvelous idea, except that, as you should know, the first rule of being a witch is ‘do no harm.’”
“There are exceptions to every rule, so … fuck that,” Luna retorted. “He deserves that and worse.”
“Don’t worry about it, Luna,” Poppy said, looking satisfied. “Our Wren eviscerated him.”
Luna’s thin eyebrows flew up. “I don’t doubt it.” She took Poppy’s cocktail and pulled in a long sip.
“Help yourself, Luna,” Poppy muttered.
“Thanks, I will.” Luna commandeered the drink, and Wren caught the eye of the stall owner and asked for one more. She grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, happy to have repeat business. Luna greeted someone walking past, tickled a baby under its chin, and rubbed the ears of a golden retriever on a leash, before turning her attention back to them.
“Well done on facing your father, Wren. I’m proud of you.”
Wren took Luna’s hand and ignored her surprised expression. “I need to thank you, Luna.” Luna looked confused and tried to tug her hand away. Wren tightened her grip. She needed to say this… “Thank you for being there for me when he wouldn’t. Thank you for loving me, for supporting me, for being the mom, for being everything, you didn’t have to be. Thank you most of all for being my soft place to fall.”
Luna shifted on her feet, cleared her throat and sniffed. Under her hat, Wren could see that her eyes looked suspiciously moist. That was okay, hers were, too.
Luna waved her hands in front of her face. “You were marginally tolerable,” she said, her voice cracking. “Enough now. If people see me crying it’ll destroy my image of being a ballbreaker.”
“Can’t have that,” Poppy murmured, cheekily.
Luna tried to straighten her hat, but just tipped it more off-center. “Now, let’s not spend any more energy on Chester. The goddess was obviously off her meds when she created him. Let’s talk about your kids’ performance,” Luna said. “I am very impressed by them. And you.”
“Wasn’t it fabulous?” Poppy gave a happy sigh.
Wren had worked with some of the best artists and dancers in the world, but having people you loved, who loved you, say they were impressed meant, well,everything. Wren bobbed a curtsy.
“You’re not bad at what you do,” Luna continued.
Dance was easy; Wren knew the steps, the rhythm, where to place her feet, and how to recover if she made a mistake. But grown-up girl-guy relationships? God, she was a disaster at those.
She’d chosen yet another man who ran out on her.
She missed him with all the power of a thousand suns, and she still hoped, stupidly, that Dane would come back, that he would fight for her, that he would choose her.
No, enough now.
She was done waiting, done wanting, and absolutely done being the woman who stayed in the same place after he walked away.
But being strong … that was future Wren’s problem. Tonight, all she wanted to think about was how many Pink Phantoms she needed to drink to forget about her blue-eyed Hot Doc.
* * *
After witnessing her confrontation with her father, Dane lost sight of Wren and Poppy in the crowd. When he finally saw her again, she was standing close to the bonfire, her eyes fixed on the flames, oblivious to the chatter and the announcer urging everyone to write down their wishes and regrets.
Now alone, she looked thinner, drawn, and exhausted, and she stared at the bonfire as if it held universal truths. Her hand clenched a crumpled paper ball. What had she written?
