Elodie’s POV
I’d lived here for almost seven years.
Seven years of waking up in these rooms, walking these hallways, trying to make this cold, massive place feel like ho.
But as I drove through those gates after only three weeks away, it felt like I’d been gone for a lifeti. Like I was visiting a museum of soone else’s life.
Nothing had changed. The trees were the sa. The perfectly manicured lawns. The fountain in the courtyard still running like it always did.
But I felt like a stranger.
The butler spotted as I parked and hurried over, his face lighting up with what looked like genuine relief. “Luna Elodie, you’re back.”
Luna?
The title made my chest tighten, but I didn’t correct him. Just nodded. “Where’s Liora?”
“Still asleep, I believe.”
It was getting late. If she didn’t co down soon, we’d be rushing. But I couldn’t bring myself to go upstairs, to walk through those halls, to be in spaces that used to be mine.
“Could you ask Sabina to wake her?” I said quietly.
“Of course. And Luna, have you had breakfast? We have—”
“I already ate. Thank you.”
I hadn’t, really. Just coffee and half a piece of toast. But the thought of sitting at that table, in that dining room, made my stomach turn.
The butler nodded and disappeared inside.
I stood there in the foyer, feeling awkward and out of place in a house I’d lived in for years.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs.
I looked up and it was Dante.
He was already dressed for work, wearing his perfectly tailored suit, hair styled, every inch the powerful Alpha he was. He looked like he’d slept well. Looked completely unbothered.
Our eyes t for a brief second.
I gave him a small nod. Nothing more.
He paused on the stairs, like he was about to say sothing.
But before either of us could speak, Liora ca barreling down the stairs behind him, her face lighting up the mont she saw .
“Mommy!”
She launched herself into my arms, and I caught her automatically, holding her tight. She buried her face in my neck, and I felt her breathe in deep, taking in my scent the way wolf pups do when they need comfort.
“Good morning, baby,” I said softly, smoothing down her hair. “It’s getting late. You need to eat breakfast.”
“Okay!” She was practically vibrating with happiness.
She’d been so sure I’d co. That I wouldn’t let her down.
The thought made my throat tight.
She grabbed my hand, tugging. “Co sit with while I eat!”
“I already ate, sweetheart.”
“Then just sit with ! Please? We can talk!”
I didn’t want to. God, I didn’t want to go into that dining room and sit at that table and pretend everything was normal.
But she was looking at with those big eyes, so full of hope and love, and I couldn’t say no.
“Okay,” I whispered.
She dragged into the dining room, chattering excitedly about sothing that had happened at school yesterday. I let her pull to a seat, and I realized too late that Dante had already sat down. Right across from .
The butler poured a glass of water without asking. I accepted it with a quiet thank you and took a sip, focusing entirely on Liora as she talked.
She was telling about a ga she’d played with her friends, about how she’d won at sothing, about a drawing she’d made that her teacher had loved.
I smiled and nodded and made all the right sounds, but I could feel Dante’s presence like a physical weight across the table.
I didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him. Just kept my attention on our daughter like he wasn’t even there.
Because in all the ways that mattered, he wasn’t.
I noticed when he stopped eating, though. Noticed the way his fork paused halfway to his mouth, the slight frown that crossed his face.
He’d realized. Realized I wasn’t playing the role anymore. Wasn’t smiling at him or trying to engage or pretending we were a happy family.
I just... didn’t care anymore.
And maybe that was what surprised him.
His phone rang suddenly, the sound cutting through Liora’s story.
I glanced over reflexively.
The screen lit up with the caller ID.
‘BABY’. Those Two words. One little heart emoji.
Sothing inside shattered.
I’d thought I was past this. Thought I’d built up enough walls that things like this wouldn’t hurt anymore.
But God, it hurt.
He’d saved her as “Baby.” With a heart. The kind of casual intimacy that spoke of inside jokes and late-night conversations and a closeness I’d never had with him.
I looked away quickly, my hand tightening around the water glass.
Liora was still talking, oblivious, and I forced myself to focus on her words even though I couldn’t hear them anymore over the ringing in my ears.
Dante reached for his phone. And yet, of course, the pain in my eyes didn’t escape his sharp eyes, but then again he ignored ... just like he always did. Like I was so trash that didn’t matter.
And the way he was talking, God, the way he was talking... His voice was soft. Gentle. The kind of tone I hadn’t heard directed at in years. Maybe ever.
“What’s wrong?” he said into the phone, and there was actual concern there. Worry. Like whoever was on the other end mattered.
I sat back down next to Liora, my movents chanical, and tried to pretend I couldn’t hear him. Tried to pretend it didn’t feel like soone was slowly carving out my insides with a dull knife.
Liora looked up from her breakfast, her eyes lighting up. “Daddy, is that Aunt Sienna?”
Aunt Sienna.
Of course she called her that. Of course they were close enough for that.
“Yeah,” Dante said simply.
Liora opened her mouth like she wanted to say sothing else, probably wanted to talk to Sienna too but then she glanced at and stopped. Her little face scrunched up, conflicted.
She knew. Even at six years old, she knew there was sothing wrong between her Aunt Sienna and her mother.
I took a sip of water and stared at my glass like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Dante’s expression changed as he listened to whatever Sienna was saying. His brow furrowed, his jaw tightened. He looked worried.
He stood abruptly, phone still pressed to his ear. “I’m coming now.”
Just like that.
He didn’t finish his breakfast. Didn’t even look at Liora or . Just grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and walked out.
For Sienna, he dropped everything.
For Sienna, he ran.
I watched him go, and I felt nothing. Just that sa hollow emptiness that had taken up permanent residence in my chest.
Liora stared after him too, her breakfast forgotten. She looked anxious now, her little hands fidgeting with her fork.
She wanted to know what was wrong. Wanted to follow him, maybe. Wanted to make sure Aunt Sienna was okay.
But she didn’t say anything. Because I was sitting right there.
After a mont, she tugged on my sleeve. “Mommy, I’m done. Can we go now?”
I looked at her plate. She’d barely eaten half of it.
“You haven’t finished, baby. Do you want to pack so for you to eat in the car?”
“No, I’m not hungry anymore.”
Her voice was small. Distant.
I wanted to push. Wanted to tell her she needed to eat, that she was still growing, that skipping als wasn’t good for her.
But I was so tired.
And I knew why she’d lost her appetite. Knew she was worried about Sienna. Knew that the mont we got in the car, she’d probably ask what I thought was wrong, and I’d have to pretend I cared.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Let’s go then.”
She slid off her chair imdiately, practically running toward the door.
I followed more slowly, grabbing my purse and keys.
Sabina appeared with a container of food anyway, probably so pastries or fruit for Liora to eat later. “Just in case she gets hungry, Luna.”
“Thank you.”
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