Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140

Ncolai

Last night, Skye and I both said things we can’t take back, not without a serious discussion. She said Jaxon should move in. I’m still shaking my head, wondering what the actual fuck about that one. But then again, I said I wanted her to break the bond with Jaxon. I’m sure she feels the same way about that.

But as soon as the words were out of our mouths, we looked at each other in the dark for a long moment before Skye said, “We’re not going to do this right tonight.” Not a question. An assessment. “We’re both too tired and too -” she gestured at the general state of both of us, post-intimacy, both completely naked, a tangle of limbs, completely blissed out. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed immediately, always willing to give her what she needs but knowing we can’t put off that discussion forever.

She fell asleep within minutes, almost like speaking the words allowed her to set down the weight of them. But I stayed awake somewhat longer, unable to turn off my mind until the early morning.

I wake to light through curtains much too early. Skye is still sleeping next to me, her hair on the pillow, one hand tucked under her cheek, breathing with the deep evenness of someone who has finally gotten adequate sleep for the first time in two months. Maybe I should wear her out more often.

The monitor on the nightstand makes the sound that means Benji is awake and considering his options. Not crying. Not demanding. Just a baby who has woken up in a good mood and is willing to see where the morning goes before registering any complaints.

I don’t move. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’ve woken up in this room for fifteen years and it has never once felt like this. I just need a few more minutes to soak it in.

There’s a word for it that I don’t reach for immediately-I let it sit without being named, because naming it will make it a thing to manage and right now I just want to feel it. The specific quality of a morning where everything that matters is in the same space and nobody needs anything for another few minutes.

This is what the math was always going to come to. I can see it clearly, lying here. Every choice I’ve made in life has brought me here. I was building toward this and I was afraid to let myself see it until it was already real.

Now it’s real. And I am never giving it up.

I think about the man I was before she came back into my life. Not a different man. The same one–I haven’t become someone else, don’t believe people do that. But a version of me with a narrower life. Controlled in ways that I told myself were tools and had started, somewhere in the last few years before Skye, to feel more like the whole personality.

I made peace a long time ago with the nature of my work. The moral grey of it. The methods that don’t survive close ethical examination and are nonetheless necessary in the world we operate in. I’m not a man who loses sleep over what he’s had to do to keep this territory secure and this pack protected.

I would commit cold-blooded violence without hesitation for the two people in this house. I didn’t have that before. Had things I’d protect, interests I’d defend, people in my employ whose safety I took seriously. This is different.

This is the specific animal ferocity of a man who has something irreplaceable and knows it. These people. This child who has opinions about milk temperature and already knows my voice and grabs whatever finger is available with the grip of someone who has decided what stays.

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I find, lying here, that I don’t miss the version of this life that came before. The organized legibility. The nothing that surprised me.

I prefer this.

Skye wakes gradually, the way she does not all at once but in increments, awareness returning in layers. She registers the monitor sound first. Checks the visual. Benji is still in good-mood waiting mode.

Then she turns her head and looks at me. “Hi,” she says with a shy smile.

“Hi.” I grin back.

We lie there for a moment, both of us knowing what the morning requires and neither of us rushing toward it. Just taking a moment to drink each other in and enjoy the morning after all that passed between us last night.

Skye breaks the silence first. “Should we talk about last night?”

“Yes,” I don’t elaborate, letting her take the lead.

“Which part first?” She asks, and I can already see the tension creeping back in.

“Whichever you’re ready for.” I try to put her at ease.

She considers this. Shifts to face me more fully, which involves some negotiation with the pillow. “You want me to break the bond.”

“Yes.” It’s out there. I won’t take it back now.

“I’m going to come back to that. But first-Jaxon. What are your actual thoughts?”

I’ve had the night to think about this. “He’s changing,” I admit. “I don’t say that easily. But he’s becoming someone different from who he was, and that’s-that matters. For Benji.” I look at the ceiling. “The west wing is separate. If he’s here daily regardless, having him in the building rather than driving several hours round trip is- practically, it makes sense for son.”

“That’s very rational of you.” She smirks, trying to make a situation she knows is difficult for me just a bit lighter.

“I’m a rational man.”

She looks at me with the expression she gets when she’s deciding how honest to be. “It would bother you.”

“Yes,” I say simply. “But lots of things bother me and I manage them. His being here would bother me. His being here would also be better for Benji. Both of those things are true and the second one outweighs the first.”

“I know. And I meant it. But this morning, with more sleep-“I lock eyes with her, hopeful she sees my honesty. I want you to do it when you’re ready. Not because I asked.”

She thinks that over for a long moment. “I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking,” she offers. “And then we’ll figure out the rest of it later.”

“Okay.” I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me.

“Over breakfast,” she adds. “I need coffee before anything important.”

Of course, I agree.

But I’m not entirely sure the suspense won’t kill me.

11

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading. Another long one tonight!

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