The Broken Luna, Now His Regret novel Chapter 10

10 Chapter 10 Dinner With The Alpha

Mira’s phone rang. Kieran.

She almost didn’t answer. But Violet nodded, so she did.

“Can we talk?” His voice was careful, measured. “Let’s get dinner.”

Mira blinked. In the last three years–since Astrid–Kieran had never once asked her to dinner. Not for their anniversary. Not for her birthday. Not ever.

“Dinner,” she repeated slowly.

“Yes. There are things we should discuss. I’ll text you the address.”

Her phone buzzed a moment later. But the address wasn’t a restaurant.

It was Ravencrest Manor.

Violet saw her expression. “What?”

“He wants to ‘talk‘ at the manor.” Mira’s laugh was brittle. “He’s read the divorce papers. This is strategy.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“I know.” But curiosity was a sharp hook. What exactly did Kieran think was going to happen?

She drove separately, following his car down the long drive. Inside, the manor was quiet, the earlier birthday disaster cleaned away.

Kieran headed straight for the stairs. “Come on.”

Mira didn’t move from the foyer. “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs.” He paused, looking back with mild confusion. “It’s been months. We should

He started unbuttoning his shirt.

Mira stared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“You think I came here for that? You think that’s still-” She couldn’t even finish the

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sentence. “The divorce papers are in your study. If you actually want to discuss our marriage, they’re a good place to start.”

His jaw tightened. “Mira, you’re being unreasonable—”

Her phone rang. Sabrina’s name appeared on the screen, and Mira had never been more grateful for an interruption.

“I have to take this.”

Sabrina’s voice was slurred and tearful. “Mira? I’m at Murphy’s Bar. Can you… can you come get me? He did it again. Marcus, he–he was with her again, and I just—”

“I’m coming. Stay there.”

Mira looked at Kieran, who stood on the stairs looking frustrated and baffled. “My friend needs me. If you have issues with the divorce agreement, you can relay them through Fletcher.”

She meant the butler, but saying the name of Sabrina’s cheating boyfriend felt oddly

appropriate.

“Mira-”

“Goodnight, Kieran.”

Murphy’s Bar was crowded, but she found Sabrina slumped in a corner booth, mascara tracking down her face.

“He swore it was over,” Sabrina sobbed as Mira slid in beside her. “He swore. But I found the messages, Mira. Months of messages. He’s been lying this whole time.”

Mira wrapped an arm around her friend’s shaking shoulders. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Why do I keep believing him? Why do I keep thinking he’ll change?”

Because hope is brutal, Mira thought. Because we want so badly to matter to them that we’ll accept crumbs and call it love.

“You deserve better than crumbs,” she said aloud.

Sabrina looked up, her eyes red and lost. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Mira’s voice was fierce. “You deserve someone who shows up. Who remembers. Who doesn’t make you beg for the bare minimum.”

She was talking to Sabrina. She was talking to herself.

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She was talking to the woman she’d been for five years–the one who’d kept hoping that if she was good enough, perfect enough, patient enough, Kieran would finally see her.

But he hadn’t. He’d only noticed her absence.

Mira drove Sabrina home, got her settled with water and aspirin, and sat with her until she fell asleep. Then she drove back to her parents‘ house as dawn began to paint the sky pink.

Her phone had twelve missed calls from Kieran.

She deleted every notification without reading them.

Mira sat in her car outside the Whitmore home for a long moment, watching the first light of dawn break over the horizon. Six months away had given her clarity. Distance had shown her what she’d been too close to see: she’d been slowly disappearing, erasing herself piece by piece to fit into a life that had never wanted her whole.

Not anymore.

She went inside quietly, not wanting to wake her family. But her mother was already in the kitchen, tea steeping on the counter.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Estelle asked gently.

“I had to help a friend.” Mira sank into a chair. “Mom… when did you know Dad was the

one?”

Estelle smiled. “When I realized I didn’t have to be anyone but myself around him. That he loved me not despite my flaws, but including them.” She placed a cup of tea in front of Mira. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve spent five years trying to be someone Kieran could love. And I just realized… he never wanted me. He wanted what I could give him.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Estelle squeezed her shoulder. “Then it’s time to stop giving. And start living.”

Mira nodded, warmth spreading through her chest. Tomorrow was Christmas. Tomorrow was her father’s birthday. Tomorrow, she would celebrate with people who loved her exactly as she was.

The Ravencrests could keep their perfect family.

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She was finally going home.

The tea was chamomile, her mother’s remedy for everything from scraped knees to broken hearts. Mira wrapped her hands around the warm cup and let herself just be no expectations, no performance, no constantly calculating how to make herself smaller.

“You know what the worst part is?” Mira said softly. “I kept thinking if I just tried harder, if I was just better, he’d finally see me. But the truth is, he saw me perfectly clearly. He just didn’t care.”

“That’s not a reflection of your worth, sweetheart. That’s a reflection of his.”

“I know. Intellectually, I know that.” Mira took a sip of tea. “But my daughter believes I’m the villain in this story. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

“You don’t. Not right now.” Estelle sat down across from her. “Right now, you focus on being whole again. When Brielle’s older, when she can think for herself, she’ll come looking for the truth. And you’ll be here, ready to show her who you really are.“”

“What if she doesn’t? What if Astrid becomes her mother in every way that matters?”

“Then that’s a loss you’ll have to learn to live with.” Estelle’s voice was gentle but firm. “But you can’t set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. Not even your daughter. Especially not when the people around her are the ones who doused you in gasoline.”

Mira closed her eyes, letting the words sink in. Her mother was right. She couldn’t save Brielle by sacrificing herself. She’d tried that already, and it had nearly destroyed

her.

The only way forward was through. Through the pain, through the grief, through the guilt.

And out the other side, where maybe–just maybe–she’d find herself again.

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