Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171

Nicolai

Skye is standing on the terrace, leaning against the stone balustrade, staring into space. She’s been out there for a while and I can tell from the quality of her stillness-not resting, not thinking about something neutral, she’s obsessing over something.

I quietly move to stand beside her. Neither of us speaks immediately, giving each other the space to gather our thoughts. The estate grounds are going golden in the fading light. The same view I’ve had from this terrace for fifteen years. It has never once looked like this, which is something I’ve accepted about my life since she came into it.

“Tell me what you want. Please.” I’m not ashamed to beg. The not knowing is killing me. “Not what you think I can handle. Just the raw truth.”

She peeks at me from the corner of her eye. I can see that she’s been working toward this. That she’s had the answer for a while and has been deciding if she’s brave enough to say it.

“Both of us,” I answer for her. Not a question.

“Yes,” she says quietly, barely a whisper. “I know how that sounds-”

“It sounds honest, and I asked for honest.” I didn’t expect it to hurt this much, but I don’t tell her that part.

She looks at me-searching my face the way she always searches it, looking for what’s underneath the surface response. I let her look. I have nothing to hide right now.

“I’m not going to tell you it’s easy to hear,” I say. “It isn’t.” I hold her gaze. “But I told you-months ago, before any of this—that I chose you. That the choosing was mine, independent of the bond. And I meant it.” I pause.” That doesn’t mean I choose you only when it’s uncomplicated. That’s not what choosing someone means.”

“How did I get lucky enough to find you?” she says finally. Not rhetorical. Just-said, into the air, with the particular quality of someone genuinely uncertain of the answer.

“You made choices that brought you here,” I answer with a wry smile. “You get some credit.”

We just sit with that for a moment. Both of us with what she said. Both of us with what it means.

Then Skye says, “I don’t want to lose what we have. I need you to know that first. Whatever else this is—you’re my mate. I chose you. I’m wearing your mark.” Her hand goes to her shoulder. “That’s not the part I’m confused about. Nothing has changed for me when it comes to how I feel about you.”

“I know,” I say. Because I do know. That part was never in doubt,

“But I think there’s something real with Jaxon that didn’t get finished. That maybe can’t be finished.” She looks at me, her cheeks tinged pink. “And I don’t know how to live with leaving it unexamined.”

I look out at the grounds for a moment, schooling my expression. I think about the conversation with Jaxon, two whiskey glasses, saying I don’t want to undo what you’ve built with her. And I think about Benji, who already has two fathers and believes that’s just the way it’s supposed to be. I don’t want him to ever think it’s supposed to be complicated.

Then Dimitri’s words come back to me. Maybe unconventional doesn’t have to mean wrong.

“Then we don’t leave it unexamined,” I blurt out únexpectedly.

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She stares at me. “What?”

We figure out what it is. Together. All three of us.” I suggest, still somewhat surprised at my own response.

“Nicolai-” Her voice breaks slightly on my name. “You’d do that?”

“I’d rather do it than watch you carry it alone. And I’d rather do it than pretend the situation is something other than what it is.” It’s the best answer I have.

She’s quiet for a long moment.

“It wouldn’t have felt right, keeping my feelings from you.” She’s twisting her hands in that way she does when she has more to say but saying it out loud is hard for her. “But you should know, what I want may not matter. Jaxon wanted to move on, it’s why he wanted to break the bond. I think maybe he still does… want to move on,

mean.

“I don’t think that’s true at all.” It takes all my self control not to snort at the ridiculous notion. “For now, let’s just focus on how the three of us work through this together.”

“It won’t be easy,” she warns. “And you’re going to have feelings about it.”

“Many,” I confirm. “Frequently. I’ll tell you what they are.”

“And I’m going to tell you things that are hard to hear.” She continues.

“Yes.” I meet her eyes. “And you’re going to hear things from me that are hard too. That’s what honesty costs.”

She nods slowly.

“We go slowly,” I say. “We figure out what this looks like before anyone makes any decisions. Nobody rushes anything.” I pause. “And you tell me things. You keep telling me things, even when you think I can’t handle them. Especially then.”

“Even when they’re about him.” She looks up at me under her lashes, almost afraid to see my reaction.

“Especially then.” I say confidently, letting her see I mean every word.

She looks at me for a long time. Then she reaches over and takes my hand. Deliberate. Chosen. The same way she’s been choosing me since the beginning.

I let her hold it.

“We’re agreed,” she nods, almost to herself.

“We’re agreed,” I add.

We sit on the terrace until the light is gone entirely, and neither of us has any idea what we’ve just agreed to do, or whether we’re capable of it.

But we both mean it.

That’s where we start.

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