Chapter 11
Wanting something you can't have transforms your dreams into nightmares.
I slipped into my sleek black cocktail dress, pairing it with some stylish short black boots.
My hair cascaded in soft waves, and I applied just the right amount of makeup.
I caught a glimpse of myself and saw a transformation; I looked different, more mature.
My cheekbones seemed to stand out more, perhaps because I'd shed a few pounds. I felt ready for my date with Marco.
Grabbing my brown coat and bag, I made my way downstairs, knowing he would be here any minute.
“Wow, sweetheart. You look… older.” My dad’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth agape. Normally, I always wore sneakers all the time, so this was quite the change.
“Older? Thanks, Dad.” I chuckled, not quite sure how to take it.
“Sorry! I meant you look like a woman now, not a little girl anymore. It's just hard for me to wrap my head around how grown up you've become.” He looked me over.
“Don't worry, I'll always be your little girl, no matter my age.” I smiled and drew him into a hug.
“Is Mom coming home?” I asked, aware that we hadn't spoken to her for so long.
She had left abruptly, claiming she had some emergencies to attend to, but I suspected it was more about her shame over her actions and not knowing how to face either of us.
“She called earlier; she'll be back tonight.
I think we'll just order takeout,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with hopeful anticipation as if he were preparing for a romantic evening.
I felt a twinge of discomfort. I believed my dad deserved the truth, and I hoped my mom would finally confront her mistakes.
“Marco's here!” Dad pointed toward the window.
“Okay, I'm off. Grabbing my keys!” I said, heading for the door.
“Have fun, but don't stay out too late. I'll be waiting up for you,” he said, his fatherly tone firm as always.
“Come on, Dad, I'm not a child anymore.” I rolled my eyes playfully.
“And you're not old enough to stay out all night, either. We trust you, but just remember that trust is important,” he insisted.
“I know, I know. You remind me of this every time. I've practically memorized the whole speech!” I replied, annoyance tinting my voice as I stepped out toward Marco’s car. My dad stood by the door with his hands in his pockets, watching us drive away.
“Usual dad lecture about trust?” Marco asked, grinning at me.
“Yep,” I said, smiling back. As we drove, Marco suddenly halted, catching me off guard.
“What's wrong?” I asked, surprised.
“I just wanted a kiss.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss.
“So, where are we headed tonight?” I inquired after we resumed driving.
“There's a small, tiny restaurant that opened in the hills last month. It should only take about 10-15 minutes to get there. I've heard their pizza is fantastic,” Marco said, clearly in a good mood.
“Oh, there's a party Jessica invited us to. It's her friend Aurora. Do you know her?” I attempted to keep the conversation light.
“Yeah, I know her. She dated a buddy of mine. I heard about the party; we could swing by after dinner if you want.” Marco grinned.
“Sure, that sounds good.” I replied. We chatted about various topics, but I steered clear of anything personal—my mom, Zane, or anything else weighing on my mind. It felt like I was accumulating secrets, creating an invisible barrier between us that I didn't know how to breach.
At the restaurant, we enjoyed ourselves, laughing like we used to when we were younger.
The ambiance was charming and rustic, complete with a cozy fireplace, and the pizza was delightful.
Although the restaurant buzzed with chatter, it felt like the perfect date—one I wished would never end.
I momentarily forgot about Emily, my mom, and even Zane faded from my thoughts.
When we drove back, we decided to head to the party. The night was dark, and the winding road through the woods made me wish I could freeze this moment in time.
“Stop!” I suddenly exclaimed.
“What's wrong?” Marco slammed on the brakes, concern etched on his face.
“Look, there's a little parking area. Want to pull over for a moment?” I asked, locking eyes with him. He understood my unspoken intent; no further words were necessary.
My heart was racing, lodged in my throat. I craved him, but there was an urgency within me that I couldn't quite comprehend. I needed to seize that moment that night, to grasp something I could control, something I could make happen.
We hurried into the back seat, and Marco paused, his gaze lingering on me as he gently caressed my cheek. The full moon bathed his face in a soft blue glow, revealing his striking beauty. What more could I possibly have wanted?
“You look stunning tonight,” he murmured, as if seeing me for the first time.
Then, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to my bottom lip.
The warmth of our racing hearts echoed in the air between us.
He shrugged off his dark blue shirt, the moonlight tracing the contours of his toned body.
I was mesmerized, and I wondered why I had waited so long to embrace this.
I fumbled with my dress, struggling with the stubborn zipper.
“Let me help you,” he whispered, even though we were alone.
Instantly, my dress slipped away, and a chill ran through me.
But then he kissed me again, his lips urgent against mine, a fire igniting within us both.
“Are you sure?” he asked, pausing to search my eyes.
I nodded, unable to voice my affirmation.
“You always wanted something more romantic, not like this,” he said, as if trying to sway me.
“I'm done waiting. We've held off for far too long. There will never be a perfect time or place. I just want to get it over with,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his neck, feeling the heat between us.
“Wait… wait…” he said, gently pushing me back. “This isn't you,” he insisted, locking his eyes with mine.
“What do you mean it's not me? I'm right here, ready.
What's holding you back?” I fought to keep my voice steady, confusion and frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
Marco had always been the one eager to take the next step; now he was the one hesitant.
Why was everything unraveling? “Fine, forget it,” I snapped, starting to pull my dress back on as he fell silent.
“I'm sorry. It's just… I want this, but it doesn't feel right,” he admitted, regret lacing his words. But I was too far gone in my anger to care.
“Let's just go to the party. I need a drink,” I said curtly. The tension hung thick between us, and I could feel our relationship falling apart. I just couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, it was all my fault.
The night had taken a turn for the worse. All I wanted was a cold beer and to lose myself in the pulsating crowd, letting the
music drown out my thoughts. This wasn't who I was, and yet, I felt this rebellious spark igniting within me that I wasn't quite ready to embrace.
The bar, once a charming old restaurant, was teeming with people. Aurora had rented it out, and it was difficult to tell if it was just for her friends or open to everyone. Marco had vanished with a buddy to grab some drinks. I spotted Jessica and waved; her face lit up at the sight of me.
As I approached a cozy lounge area with two facing sofas and a few scattered chairs, I saw Zane sitting, leaning casually with his arm draped protectively around Jessica, who seemed to be nestled comfortably against him.
A few other kids were sprawled out on the nearby sofa, clearly passed out from too many drinks.
Jessica tried to say something, but her voice was lost to the music.
I made a deliberate effort to avoid looking at Zane, pretending he wasn't even there.
Marco returned, beer in hand, and Jessica stood up to toast. I chugged the first half of my drink like it was nothing; I needed to unwind.
And it worked. Ten minutes later, I found myself sinking into the groove of the music, head tilted back in bliss.
Feeling the urge to dance, I jumped up and began to move, with Jessica quickly joining me.
In that moment, everything else faded away—there was just me, the beat, and a blissful absence of worries. We laughed and danced. I caught a glimpse of Marco chatting animatedly with a group of guys in the distance. It felt good to finally let loose.
But then, gosh… I felt it—Zane’s gaze boring into me, as if it were a tangible force. There was something unsettling yet thrilling about it. Was I actually enjoying this?
Eventually, fatigue settled in, and we decided to take a break.
I averted my eyes, determined not to give Zane the satisfaction of locking gazes, leaning back on the sofa with my eyes closed.
The music vibrated through my body. When I opened my eyes and lifted my head, I spotted Zane and Jessica locked in a passionate kiss.
She was utterly absorbed in him, and before I knew it, I was transfixed.
I watched as he expertly maneuvered his tongue; the slow, rhythmic dance was mesmerizing.
My mouth fell open slightly as I imagined being in Jessica’s place.
I wondered how it would feel to kiss him.
What would his lips taste like? Heat surged through me, leaving me breathless.
“Luna?” Marco’s voice broke my trance. He had noticed where my attention lay. I quickly shut my mouth and swallowed hard.
“I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought,” I replied too loudly, forcing a smile as I glanced at him, then quickly looked down to avoid giving anything away.
“Why were you staring at Zane?”
“I wasn't! I just… I told you, I was thinking about something else.”
“Hey Marco, come check this out!” A group of guys called him over, providing a much-needed escape from my embarrassment.
I couldn't bear to watch that moment any longer; his hands were moving on Jessica’s body, and suddenly a wave of nausea washed over me.
I weaved through the crowd, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere.
It felt like there was no air, like I was trapped in a sealed space devoid of oxygen. It was definitely too much beer.
I pushed my way through, stepping on toes as I fought to break free. Finally, I burst outside, inhaling deeply, filling my lungs with the crisp air. My sleeveless dress offered little warmth, but I welcomed the chill; it was far better than being inside.
When I turned back, I saw Marco approaching with my coat.
“Here, put this on. It's cold,” he said, his tone distant and unfamiliar.
A lump formed in my throat, and I felt the urge to cry and scream.
This marked the end for us—our final day as a couple.
This was it—no more chances, no more saving what we had.
We weren't kids anymore, and through our shared experiences, we had somehow drifted apart.
“I'm so sorry…” I murmured, lowering my gaze to hide my tears. He wrapped me in a comforting embrace, and we stood there in silence for a moment, lost in our thoughts.
“I'm sorry too. It's not just your fault; I share the blame too,” he replied, his voice quaking.
“No, it's not. You did everything I ever wanted…” I argued weakly.
“But it wasn't enough…” he added, and as I pulled back to meet his gaze.
I wanted to protest, yet the naked truth was before us.
It was more than enough for someone else, but somehow not for me.
It was a constant yearning for something elusive or perhaps nonexistent.
How long would this yearning continue before it killed me?
Marco drove me home, and it felt like the longest journey of my life.
Memories from our childhood up until this moment rushed through my mind, each moment flashed before my eyes—the first kiss, that tender touch, the first stirrings of feelings between us—all packed away like treasures in a sealed box.
If we had been older, perhaps we would have navigated this differently, but we were still just kids, hungry to explore what life had to offer, or at least I was.
I wasn't just losing my boyfriend; I was losing my friend.
I had kept too many secrets from him, and it was evident.
As I tried to look at him and memorize his features, my vision blurred with tears.
When we finally arrived, we sat in silence for twenty minutes, locked in each other's gaze.
Our emotions spoke volumes where words failed.
I sensed he wanted to say something, but the words never came.
I had nothing left to say, no comfort to offer; I had already cried all my tears dry.
Yet, I couldn't bring myself to exit the car. I just couldn't do it.
Did I ever imagine we'd break up? Yes, but I always thought it would be due to choosing different universities, not because he didn't want me when I offered.
After several attempts, I finally managed to open the door and stepped out, and he followed me.
One last hug enveloped us, so intense that I felt as if I might fade away.
Just like that, I lost someone who had been a significant part of my life for so long. Here it was: loss number one.
I entered the house and closed the door behind me, sliding down to the floor as I listened to the fading sound of his car. A strange numbness washed over me; it was as if I had switched off my emotions.
The house was dark and empty. My dad hadn't waited for me as promised; it seemed no one was home. I stood up and made my way to the kitchen, groping in the dark for a glass of water. I had left my boots by the entrance and slowly climbed the stairs.
Suddenly, I heard an odd noise. My parents’ bedroom door was slightly ajar, and as I approached cautiously, the sound grew louder.
“Mom, Dad?” I called softly. Silence. “Is everything okay?” I asked, raising my voice a little.
Still no answer. I stood at the door, my heart pounding, and gently pushed it open with my right hand.
Something felt off. The door swung wide, revealing the glow of the full moon illuminating a figure sitting on the bed.
As I drew closer, I saw my mom, sobbing, her eyes vacant.
“Mom?” I stepped forward.
“He's gone,” she said, her voice trembling.
“What do you mean? Who's gone?” I asked, my voice rising in confusion.
“Your dad,” she replied flatly, her gaze fixed on something far away. “He left. I told him everything, and he just left.”
“What? Did you have a fight? He'll cool off and come back soon,” I said, trying to make sense of her words.
“No, he won't. He took his things. He's not coming back.”
The closet stood open, half of its contents missing, and the drawers were ajar. The weight of realization crashed over me as I took in my surroundings: loss number two.