I Am The Luna

SEBASTIAN.

Ever since I spoke to her in the kitchen, she’s been quieter, although she’s smiling, which lights up those gorgeous eyes of hers. I wish I could change the past, change the decisions I made.

Seeing Sia sick was the last straw. The promise that Gerard had the antidote drove me to get it for her, no matter what.

Watching Zaià crouch down gracefully, yet looking so fucking sexy as she talks to Sia makes me wish I could be the reason behind her smiles…

But instead, I’m the reason behind her tears.

The pain that comes with love is often never spoken of. Two people may love one another immensely, but there are still so many hurdles that they have to overcome… but I think I hurt Zaia one time too many….

And that thought agonises me, torments me.

“Time to cut the cake!” Sia exclaims as Zaia passes Dad the knife.

“Everyone gather around,” Valerie says with a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes which still hold sadness.

Pain.

Sorrow.

Heartbreak.

So much suffering.

These emotions come in different forms for every person, but we all feel it. The emotions that will bring us to our knees, steal the air from our lungs, the sort of emotions where every part of you aches, yearns and screams for its end. It’s brutal and blinding in its pain. It bashes your soul harder and quicker than the most powerful of storms.

I ruined this for us. I understand her point. I fucking see her reason. I just wish it wasn’t like this. I ruined what love and trust meant to her.

I’ve tainted it with heartbreak and betrayal. Now I wish I could protect her heart just to make sure no one else dares hurt it, yet are my hands the place for it because I broke it to begin with?

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“Sebastian?” Hugh says, snapping me from my thoughts.

Walking over to them, I step up next to Hugh as they stand gathered around the table and begin singing. I refuse to join in, simply strumming my fingers to the rhythm.

Dad cuts his cake, feeding Zaia first and then the children. He glances at me before I reach over and take the cake from his hand, but instead of eating it; I hold it out to him.

A silent peace offering to mend the bridges that we are trying to resurrect…

He smiles faintly, biting into it. “Thank you, son.”

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t make it,” I say quietly, glancing at Zaia.

She has the smallest curve of a bump already forming, and she looks gorgeous. Although I’m the one who asked for us to talk, I’m not sure what the outcome. will be… deep down I’m not sure it will be in

my favour, but still, I need to know… I need to know if there is any hope of fixing what I broke. I destroyed her, and now I suddenly find myself wanting to rebuild her to who she once was, even if the truth is she doesn’t need me to rebuild her because she’s truly capable of rebuilding herself.

It’s a while later and the kids are playing happily with Dad and the others, and despite the fact it is getting quite late neither is tired.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” Zaia is asking them.

“Yes Mommy, I’m a big boy now, and Sia is stronger now. So, we stay awake,” Zion says firmly.

“They deserve to get to break their routine for a day at least.” Hugh chuckles as. Zion nods vigorously.

“Yes, Granddad is right. We deserve this,” he protests as Sia giggles.

“Yes, we big now,” she declares.

“Ok then,” Zaia says.

‘Shall we?‘ I ask, jerking my thumb towards the door. She stands up slowly – smoothing her dress, her face unreadable as the mask that she puts on in front of me slips into place.

“Excuse me…” she says.

“Ok Mommy, you go talk to Daddy. We will look at Grandad’s gifts!” Zion says.

“I love this chess set.” Valerie compliments the set that Hugh got for Dad.

“It is a fine set, but I wonder if Hugh actually thinks that after all these years, he can somehow beat me. I have not gotten rusty.”

“Oh, I am actually pretty confident I would win,” Hugh replies.

“I think there’s only one solution then, a match? Wouldn’t you agree, children?” Atticus remarks as he sits back, his arm around Valerie, who nods along with the twins.

Zaia walks past me, wishing both men good luck before we both head to the garden.

The wind blows through our hair the moment I open the door, holding it for Zaia to step out under my arm first.

Her scent is intoxicatingly addictive as it wafts into my nose, like a bout of nicotine or something that I need to satiate my hunger.

The door clicks shut, and I watch as she stands there staring up at the moon, holding her arm in front of her. The way her hair is blowing softly distracts me and for a blissful moment I am lost in her and her alone – forgetting the reason we are even out here. All I do is stare in awe of her.