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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, luna found herself gripping the steering wheel tighter than she should, the leather warm under her palms from the morning sun.
she drove through liverpool's quiet streets, the city just beginning to wake, shop shutters groaning open, buses hissing to a stop, the faint smell of bread drifting from a bakery on the corner. her destination was the small café tucked away off bold street, the one césar had chosen.
a part of her felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him. césar, with his calm presence and warm smile, had always carried an ease about him, as though he could smooth the rough edges of a storm.
he was safe, reliable, uncomplicated. but underneath that anticipation, buried in her chest like a stone, was the undeniable weight of guilt.
because last night had been jordan.
she hadn't planned on it. hadn't expected the film, the way the soft flicker of the screen painted his features in half-shadows, or the way silence between them had stretched taut, thick with unspoken things neither dared to name. no kiss, no reckless crossing of boundaries, yet there had been something more dangerous: honesty. the kind of closeness that unraveled her.
luna pressed harder on the accelerator, as though speed could burn away memory. she could still hear jordan's sigh, low and raw, cutting into her like a confession. "i don't know how long i can wait..." he'd said, voice trembling at the edges, northern vowels heavy with restraint.
and she had looked at him, heart stuttering in her chest, torn between two ghosts, benny in the shadows of her past, elisia's absence clinging to him like a wound. they were both still in limbo, still tethered to the people they'd lost, yet reaching desperately for something alive in each other.
she shook her head, forcing her eyes back to the road, but guilt gnawed at her. what was she doing? how could she sit across from césar with this unspoken truth haunting her? how could she accept his easy smiles when she knew the echo of jordan's voice still lingered in her bones?
the café came into view, its windows misted with steam, little chalkboard outside advertising café con leche and fresh croissants. luna parked and cut the engine, the silence inside the car pressing down like a verdict.
her hands trembled as she reached for her bag.
she thought of martina, her laughter, her innocence, her hope that her mamá might find happiness again. and she thought of ruby, with her wide, searching eyes that mirrored jordan's own. both children weaving threads neither adult seemed able to cut.
drawing a breath, luna whispered in spanish, a soft prayer under her breath. "dios mío... ayúdame."
but even as she stepped out of the car, heels clicking against the pavement, she knew she was walking into another storm of her own making, one where no choice would leave her untouched.
