the air. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her no. This isn’t a good idea for so many reasons. I glance back up toward End, and my stomach dips. He seems sincere, as though he actually wants to have my daughter bug him while he eats.
Err—his daughter.
God, this is so screwed up.
What have I done?
I nod down at Luna, unable to voice my answer because of how guilty I’m suddenly feeling. It’s suffocating. I feel like I can’t breathe. A heavy weight sits on my chest, and it feels like if I make one wrong move, the weight will crack my sternum open and kill me. It only gets worse as I watch my daughter—our daughter—settle between her father and my father. It strikes me then, just how much she really does look like Endymion. They’re practically twins sitting there next to each other. And the smile gracing Luna’s face as she talks his ear off? It’s wider than I’ve seen in a really long time.
Lately, she’s been asking more and more about her father, and each time, it’s like a chip to my battered heart. It’s killing me to keep the truth from everyone, especially now. It all feels so…wrong. I thought I’d made the right choice, but clearly, I was wrong, and I see that now. Sitting across from Endymion and lying to them both is breaking my heart.
Pressure builds in my nose, and my eyes start to water when End says something to Luna that makes her laugh. It’s such a beautiful, lilting, carefree sound—it’s so her. When I feel a sudden wave of emotion roll over me, I rapidly blink, trying to keep the tears at bay.
“I’ll be back. I need to use the restroom,” I just about choke out.
The legs of my chair scrape the floor as I push away from the table and hurry into the bathroom. Thankfully, it’s empty, because the minute I step over the threshold, I fall apart. I cup a hand over my mouth and slam my eyes shut, letting the tears roll down my cheeks in hot torrents.
I’ve fucked up.
I kept a man, a good man, away from his child.
I kept my daughter away from her father.
All for what, my pride? Because I had a broken heart?
Even if I do try to fix this now, everyone will hate me. I’ll be turned into the monster. The woman who kept Endymion’s child from him. He’s going to hate me. And what will happen when he tries to fight me for custody of her? How am I going to justify my actions in court? I’ll lose her.
And I can’t lose her.
That little girl is my entire life and then some.
My hands tremble as I place them on the edges of the sink for support. I bow my head, trying to figure out how to fix this. I just need to take a few days to figure out how to break the news to Endymion, then to Luna. My parents are going to be so disappointed in me when they find out, but I can’t think about that right now.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I stand upright, squaring my shoulders and wiping my face clean of tears. I look like a mess. My eyes are puffy and bloodshot, and my nose is red. I look like Rudolph. There is no way I can hide my mess of a face from anyone, once I step foot out of this bathroom.
Thankful that my purse is still strapped around my shoulder, I dig through it, searching for anything that can help me look at least a fraction more put together than I do now. The universe must feel bad for laughing at me as often as it does because I get lucky when I find a tube of mascara and some tinted moisturizer. I squirt some lotion and rub it into my skin, breathing a sigh of relief when I see it covers most of the redness. I’m a little wary when I apply the mascara. I have no clue how long it’s been in my purse, and I wouldn’t be all that surprised if I woke up tomorrow with a sty on my lash line.
Would serve me right, I guess.
With one last glance in the mirror, semi-satisfied with how I look, I walk out, trying to remind myself to hold my head high and just focus on getting through tonight. I don’t need to worry about anything else other than getting through