Page 55

Luna

Istand behind the little honesty bar for a minute, staring at the bottles without really seeing them. After everything the last few hours have held, the quiet settling over the lodge feels almost unfamiliar. It's the kind of quiet that only comes after difficult truths have finally been spoken aloud. My hand settles on Lennie's favourite whisky almost without thinking. Pouring him a generous measure, before helping myself to another glass of wine.

The bathroom door is still closed when I reach our room. Water rushes behind it, and steam curls beneath the door. I leave his whisky on the bedside table and curl up on the sofa with my own drink, listening to the familiar sounds of him moving around.

It's strange, for weeks I'd convinced myself this moment would be the end of us, that telling him would destroy everything we'd built. Now, listening to him just exist on the other side of that door, ordinary and unhurried, I let myself hope, cautiously, that we might actually be alright.

The door opens and Lennie steps out, towelling his hair dry before spotting me waiting. His expression softens immediately. “You didn’t have to bring me a drink.”

“I know. I wanted too though.”

He picks up the whisky, taking a slow sip before sitting beside me. For a while neither of us speaks.

We've always been good at silence. It never needs filling, not when you're with the right person.

Eventually he reaches across and takes my hand. "I don't blame you. You know that, don't you?" The words lift something heavy from my chest. He shakes his head gently. "I blame James." His jaw tightens. "He knew exactly what he was doing."

I stare down at our joined hands. “I’m so sorry. I thought…” I swallow hard. “I thought if I could at least replace the money before you found out then you’d never have to carry that worry.”

“So you carried it alone instead," he says, sighing softly.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know that too.” His thumb brushes absentmindedly across my knuckles. “But you did.”

His honesty stings as tears blur my vision. "I know, what I put you through… What you thought…"

"Some of what hurt me, I built myself," he interrupts, squeezing my hand gently. "In my own head, imagining the worst." He sips his whisky. "I think we both learnt a lesson here. We should always tell each other what we're thinking. What we know, or think we know. I wasn't hurt because of the money." His voice is impossibly gentle as a tear streaks his cheek, and I reach out to wipe it away. "I was hurt because you thought you had to face it without me."

“I’m so sorry.” My voice cracks. “I told myself I was protecting you… You’d already given up so much for me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you carrying one more thing because of me. I thought if I could just fix it quietly, you’d never have to feel that weight at all.” I shake my head, the guilt of it settling deeper. “If I’d known… If I’d had even the smallest idea what your mind was doing to you while I stayed silent. I would never have let it go on that long. Not for one more day.”

"Luna…" He pulls me into a hug. "Our love survived cancer. It survived losing babies." My eyes immediately fill and I squeeze him tighter. "We survived deployments, years of me disappearing halfway across the world with no guarantee I'd make it home." A tear slips down my cheek. "We've survived everything life has thrown at us." He pulls back and cups my face. "But we won't survive secrets. You don't have to protect me from the truth."

“I thought I did.”

“I don’t need protecting.” He smiles. “I need my wife.”

A sob escapes before I can stop it. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never keep anything from you again.”

“I know.” His forehead rests against mine. “We face things together. Always.”

“Together always,” I repeat as his lips meet mine—relief floods through me so completely it almost hurts. I’d convinced myself keeping the secret would protect him, when in reality it was pushing us apart. I came frighteningly close to losing the love of my life. Never again.

When we finally pull apart, we just sit there, smiling at each other, his forehead resting gently against mine.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he says, reaching for his whisky. "Jax."

I laugh. “You were thinking about Jax whilst kissing me?”

He chokes and I pat his back, laughing so hard it releases the last of the tension in my shoulders.

“No. He called his lawyer this morning, Elijah.” My eyebrows lift. “He wants to invest in the business.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Really. He’s in.”

“Oh my God Lennie. That’s… Amazing.”