The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 209

**Between the Wings of Twilight Lies the Memory of You**
*by Liren Ava Roen*

His words echoed in my mind, a sharp reminder of all the foolish things I had done in the name of love. How naive I had been! If only I had been reborn a little sooner, perhaps I would have escaped the blindness that love had cast over my heart. I wouldn’t have sacrificed my major-specific courses for a man like him.

Yet, despite the bitterness that lingered within me, Steven’s attitude ignited a slow, reluctant smile on my lips.

Our eyes, dark and bright, locked together in a moment that felt electric. “Steven,” I said, my voice teasing, “do you know what happens when one person starts to get curious about another?”

He simply regarded me, his expression unreadable.

I leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between us. “They start to develop feelings. The more curious you become, the stronger those feelings grow. So here’s a little piece of advice: in a relationship as hostile as ours, it would be wise for you to avoid getting emotionally entangled. Ask fewer questions about my life. Because if you accidentally fall for me, trust me, you’ll be the one left with a broken heart.”

I knew the odds were slim, but what if?

In my previous life, my unrequited love had brought nothing but anguish during our marriage. If Steven were to develop even the faintest flicker of affection for me, I would ensure he experienced the same suffering I had endured.

I would make him understand the pain of loving someone who was forever out of reach.

Steven’s gaze bore into mine, and then he let out a derisive snort, breaking the tension.

“You wish. My standards aren’t low enough to fall for a woman who’s completely blind.”

His words stung, but I couldn’t have expected anything different from him.

“Let’s hope so,” I replied, a huff escaping my lips as I straightened up and began to organize the clutter on my desk. “You seem pretty coherent today. Are you sober now?”

Steven shot me a look that was as indifferent as it was dismissive. “I wasn’t drunk.”

My hands froze mid-motion. If he wasn’t drunk, then he must have been utterly insane. A sober Steven wouldn’t have cared about who I shared a bath with; he’d only be concerned if I had betrayed him, tarnishing his precious reputation. He wouldn’t care about the details of my conversations or the tone I used.

But I chose not to engage in an argument.

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