Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Luna
The air in the rehearsal hall felt like a vacuum.
I mechanically unwound the ribbons of my pointe shoes, circle by circle, my fingers bone-white from gripping too hard. The dull ache in my toes was nothing compared to the tightness in my chest that threatened to explode at any moment.
The light at the end of the hallway still glowed, casting my elongated shadow across the floor in pale white. I walked slowly out of the rehearsal hall. The night wind outside was cold, hitting my face hard enough to make me shiver.
Only a few cars remained in the parking lot. My white sedan sat alone in the corner.
I slid into the driver's seat but didn't start the engine. I just gripped the steering wheel, staring at my reflection in the windshield.
My eyes were still swollen, mascara long since smudged, two dried tear tracks carved across my cheeks. I wiped at my face in the rearview mirror. It wouldn't come clean. Those marks were etched into my skin.
When I got home, Laila was already asleep. Chloe sat in the living room, a cup of tea in her hands, untouched. When she saw me come through the door, she stood, worry etched in her eyes.
She handed me the tea and helped me sink onto the couch. "Luna..."
"Don't worry." I cut her off, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I just contacted Amy. We're leaving early."
Chloe said nothing, just pulled me into a gentle embrace. "I'm so sorry. That bastard acted like an out-of-control maniac."
I laughed bitterly. "I lied to him first. But I had no choice."
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand. "Chloe. I need to pack. I have to get Laila out of here."
Chloe nodded silently. "Okay. I'll help."
I started shoving things into the suitcase as fast as I could. Laila's picture books, the half-finished sweater I'd been knitting, my tour contract.
I fought to control my trembling fingers, terrified. Cassian—men like him never had "letting go" in their vocabulary.
Now that he knew about Laila, every second I feared he'd unleash that so-called "most expensive legal team in Washington" to sever the only connection between me and my daughter.
Halfway through packing, Chloe suddenly stopped and looked out the window.
"What's wrong?" My nerves pulled taut. Had Cassian come back? Was he here to take Laila?
"No, nothing." Chloe snapped back, giving me a reassuring smile. "I was just thinking. Does Laila need her blanket?"
I exhaled in relief. "No. I'll buy her a new one."
After everything was packed, it was past midnight. I couldn't sleep, so I sat in Laila's room watching her.
Laila must have had fun yesterday. Even in her dreams, she smiled sweetly.
If she knew we were leaving Cassian, she'd be devastated. But I had no choice.
All night, my thoughts churned. I imagined every possible scenario.
As dawn broke, I quietly opened the door. I wanted to make myself some coffee to keep going.
When I reached the living room, my phone on the piano bench began vibrating violently.
That familiar name flashed across the screen—the one that had broken my heart and made me weak.
I stared at the screen for a full ten seconds, my stomach cramping, until the vibration nearly stopped. Then my trembling finger pressed accept.
"Luna."
His voice traveled through the line, strangely calm. No irritation or anger like I'd imagined. Instead, a careful, gentle warmth.
Completely opposite from last night's gut-wrenching roar. I glanced at the screen again, confirming it was really him. This unnatural softness made my throat burn.
"I know you're planning to leave. Chicago, right?
" He paused, his breathing audible. "Before you go, can we meet?
At that old pizza place you like, or anywhere you feel comfortable.
We won't fight. I won't take Laila's custody.
I just want... as Cassian, not your husband, to really talk to you.
One last time. Just the two of us, okay? "
I almost fainted right there. What did he say? He didn't want custody of Laila?
The stone that had been weighing on my heart suddenly dropped. I let out a barely audible breath of relief.
Cassian added softly, with an almost humble hope, "I think we should give this relationship a proper ending. Or... a new beginning."
Dead silence on the other end.
My knuckles went white gripping the phone, my fingertips ice cold without a trace of warmth. I should have refused. I should have hung up right then, taken Laila, and disappeared into Washington's early morning.
But when I heard "proper ending," something slammed hard into my heart.
In these six years, we'd never had a real goodbye. The rainy night six years ago was an escape, our reunion days ago was a game. We struggled through meeting and separating but never looked each other in the eye one last time with dignity.
"Okay."
I heard my hoarse voice, carrying a kind of resolved finality.
After hanging up, I slumped against the wall, drained.
My stomach still churned. I told myself this meeting was to settle everything once and for all.
If we were going to break, let's break clean. No more hiding, no more lies, and no more empty fantasies.
I spent an hour getting ready.
I chose a blood-red fitted dress, carefully concealing the dark circles under my eyes from sleeplessness, applying the brightest lipstick.
I wanted him to see that even without him, I was still Luna, the principal dancer who could shine on stage.
Before leaving, I pulled from the deepest part of my drawer a new divorce agreement I'd drafted overnight.
I hadn't touched the property section. My only demand was custody of Laila, plus occasional visitation rights for Cassian as her father—my final concession. If he truly wanted a "proper ending" like he said, then this agreement was my parting gift.
I stuffed the agreement in my bag, fingers touching the cold paper, my fingertips trembling slightly.
Just as I was about to leave, cheerful footsteps sounded from upstairs.
"Mommy!" Laila rushed over like a gust of wind, sleepiness still on her face but her eyes sparkling. "Yesterday's concert was amazing! Cassian took pictures of me—did he show you?"
She twisted her head left and right, searching for that man. "Weird. Cassian went to work really early today."
My nose stung. I crouched down and kissed her forehead. "I saw them yesterday. You were beautiful, like a little princess."
Laila giggled. "Next time, let's go together!"
My heart constricted. I said nothing, just held Laila tight.
"Sweetie. Aunt Chloe will come stay with you. After breakfast, be good and stay home."
"What about Mommy?" Laila tilted her head. "Are you going to see Cassian?"
"I have some grown-up things to handle." My voice grew softer. "Laila, do you want me to go see Cassian?"
"Yeah." She nodded matter-of-factly. "Because when Mommy looks at Cassian, you're always smiling. Much happier than in London."
My nose stung. "Do you really like Cassian, Laila?"
Laila's eyes lit up. "Of course! Yesterday I even told Cassian I hoped he could be my temporary daddy." She hesitated, then added quietly, "But it would be even better if he were my real daddy."
I didn't know how to respond. I just held her gently, not wanting her to see my reddening eyes.
I felt cold all over, and Laila in my arms was the only warmth I could feel.
Late autumn in Washington. Maple leaves covered the streets. The sky began drizzling. Fine and dense. Hitting the windshield, everything looked gray and blurred.
I gripped the steering wheel, but my mind played a long, chaotic movie.
Six years ago, he stood in the doorway saying, "You'll always be my wife," but his eyes were full of cold indifference. Six years later, he knelt on the floor braiding Laila's hair, his gaze tender.
The way he stood in the rain saying "I won't give up" overlapped with the way he shielded me from my mother.
And those nights when he held me in the bathtub, painting beautiful futures, his voice still in my ear.
Every scene crystal clear. Clear as if carved into my brain.
I wondered—what if I hadn't heard those words that rainy night? What if I'd told him about Laila sooner?
But life has no what-ifs. Only consequences.
All those sad, sweet, desperate fragments dissolved into the rapidly retreating shadows outside my window.
Goodbye, Cassian.
The rain grew heavier. I slowed down, turned the wipers to maximum.
The light turned green. I pressed the gas. The car slowly crossed the intersection.
I parked in the agreed-upon block. That pizza place sat at the corner, its neon sign flickering with nostalgic light.
I killed the engine and sat in the driver's seat for a long time, until I'd pressed my lipstick nearly pale, before finally opening the door.
I grabbed an umbrella, but raindrops still hit me. Cold. Freezing. I ducked my head and quickened my pace toward the restaurant entrance.
When I was still a dozen meters from the door, a sharp, piercing screech of metal scraping pavement suddenly shattered the silence.
I instinctively turned. A black SUV appeared in my vision, accelerating wildly.
It was completely out of control, like a blinded beast, jumping the barrier and charging straight at the sidewalk where I stood. No slowing down. No swerving.
In that instant, my mind went blank. My legs felt like lead. I watched those two harsh headlights rapidly expand in my vision. Death's shadow engulfed me in that second. I even lost the instinct to scream.
"Luna! Move!"
A heart-wrenching roar nearly shattered my eardrums. Before I could react, a powerful hand grabbed my shoulder. I was thrown with tremendous force.
I lost my balance, hitting the hard concrete heavily. The impact sent me rolling twice, my palms and knees scraping raw against the rough surface, searing pain spreading through my body.
Then came a dull, violent impact. Glass shattering and metal twisting in an ear-splitting cacophony. The ground itself seemed to shake.