My Dear Lunar

20 - PAST MEMORIES ☾

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Emir's POV

I remember that time vividly—18 years ago, when Ivy was pregnant with our third child. My days were often filled with work, deadlines, and commitments, but nothing could stop me from carving out time for my family. My two sons, Sky and Moon, were still so young—Sky had just turned two, and Moon was only a year old. Our home buzzed with their laughter and boundless energy, a symphony of joy that filled every corner. Ivy's presence made everything feel complete, her warmth the very heart of our family.

Despite the chaos of our schedules, I made it a point to accompany Ivy to her medical checkups. It became a cherished ritual, a small sanctuary amid the whirlwind of life. That particular visit stands out in my memory, vivid and bright. As the doctor performed the ultrasound, I could see Ivy's eyes sparkle with anticipation. When the doctor announced we were expecting a girl, her joy radiated through the room, enveloping me like a warm embrace. "Finally, we are about to have a princess in our family," she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with happiness. In that moment, it felt as if the universe had conspired to grant us a dream. We envisioned our daughter growing up alongside her two brothers, a harmonious balance of love and laughter.

I remember the nights we spent preparing for her arrival, discussing names and painting the nursery in soft shades of lavender and white. Toys were carefully chosen, and delicate dresses hung neatly in the closet. Every detail had been lovingly crafted. We spent hours imagining her—her first words, her laughter, the way she would twirl in her dresses. We were ready, bursting with excitement for our little girl.

After much thought and deliberation, we landed on the name 'Lunar Fairee'. The name felt magical, almost like a prophecy. 'Lunar'  to symbolize the gentle light she would bring into our lives, like the moon casting its glow even in the darkest of nights. And 'Fairee' a name imbued with whimsy, capturing the grace and wonder Ivy believed every girl should embody. Our hearts swelled with hope and anticipation.

As the days passed, everything felt set. It was finally time for Ivy to give birth to our little princess. The air was thick with anticipation. I remember standing by her side, our hands intertwined, feeling the weight of the moment. When she finally delivered, a wave of relief washed over me. The months of waiting, dreaming, and planning had culminated in this beautiful moment.

But then came the shock—the doctor's expression shifted, a hesitation in his voice. "Your baby... is not a girl. It's a boy." The words hung heavily in the air, and disbelief washed over me like a cold wave. My heart raced, and I turned to Ivy, whose face mirrored my own confusion. "How could this happen?" I stammered, my mind racing to grasp the reality of the situation. We had seen the scans, had been assured repeatedly we were having a daughter. The doctor's voice was apologetic, yet I needed answers. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "It's rare, but errors can occur during ultrasounds." His words felt like a lifeline tossed into turbulent waters, but I still struggled to find solid ground.

For a fleeting moment, disappointment settled like a shadow over us—not because we didn't love our baby, but because we had built an entire dream around the idea of having a daughter. The nursery, the name 'Lunar Fairee', the dresses—we suddenly found ourselves in a reality that felt starkly different from our dreams. But as that disappointment hovered, it began to fade, replaced by the undeniable truth: our son was here, safe and healthy. That was what truly mattered. Ivy and I exchanged glances, and in that silent moment, we both understood: our family was still complete. This little one, our unexpected surprise, was already deeply loved. We just needed to adjust our expectations and find a way forward.

So, we decided to stick with the name 'Lunar Fairee'. As we cradled him in our arms, it felt right, almost fated. "Lunar" embodied a quiet strength, a sense of mystery. "Fairee" added an ethereal quality, capturing the uniqueness we felt radiating from him. Ivy, tears streaming down her cheeks, smiled through the pain. "He's our little Lunar," she whispered. The name suited him perfectly, as if the universe had conspired to ensure he carried a name rich with meaning, regardless of the gender we had originally envisioned.

Yet, despite the joy of our new addition, I would soon find myself standing at the precipice of despair. One day, as I returned home from work, I immediately sensed something was off. The usual warmth and laughter had vanished, replaced by an unsettling coldness that clung to the air like a heavy fog. The house, once a refuge of love, felt strangely distant.

I walked through the door, expecting Ivy's familiar smile, her soft words welcoming me home—but silence greeted me instead. I stood in the entryway, bewildered, noticing her sitting on the couch, absorbed in her phone, her body language signaling she was miles away. Confusion gnawed at me. Had I done something wrong? Why was she ignoring me? Tentatively, I approached her, my heart pounding. "Ivy?" I said softly, hoping to break the invisible wall between us. But instead of responding, she snapped her head toward me, her expression a mixture of anger and betrayal. "Get away from me!!" she screamed, her voice slicing through the air like a whip. I froze, my heart sinking. What was happening? Why was she so furious?

Before I could utter a word, she hurled her phone aside and glared at me, her eyes blazing with an intensity I had never witnessed. "How dare you cheat on me while I'm pregnant with your child!!" Her accusation hit me like a punch to the gut. Confusion clouded my mind. Cheat on her? I had been nothing but faithful, devoted to her and our family. "Ivy," I managed to say, desperation creeping into my voice. "Where did you get that information? Since when have I ever cheated on you?"

But she wasn't listening. Her rage consumed her, drowning out any chance for dialogue. "Don't act stupid, you asshole!" The venom in her words pierced me deeply. All I had ever wanted was to protect her, to love her, and now she saw me as a stranger. I reached out, hoping to bridge the chasm that had suddenly opened between us, but she recoiled as if my touch burned her. The warmth in her eyes had turned to icy distrust. Without giving me a chance to explain, she stormed off, locking herself in another room, leaving me standing there, bewildered and heartbroken.

The silence that followed was suffocating. I stared at the door she had slammed shut, feeling as if my world was crumbling around me. How had we descended from a loving family into this chaos? The betrayal she felt—one I hadn't even committed—hung over me like a dark cloud. I needed to understand where this had come from, what had poisoned her heart against me so suddenly. More than anything, I needed to make things right.

In that moment, I felt utterly helpless.

Weeks passed, each day dragging on like a year. Ivy had retreated into silence, treating me like a ghost in our own home. No matter how many times I tried to approach her, it was as if I were hitting an invisible wall. I felt desperate, like a marionette with its strings cut.

In my frustration, I reached out to my friend Matthew. He had always been a steady presence, someone I could rely on for advice. I figured he could help me bridge the gap between Ivy and me, perhaps even shed light on this inexplicable situation. I remembered the countless nights spent at his condo, laughter echoing off the walls, the warmth of friendship always surrounding us. With a sense of urgency, I made my way to his place, the familiar passcode still fresh in my mind. As I opened the door and stepped inside, the smell of takeout and the sound of soft music wrapped around me, a temporary refuge from the storm swirling in my heart.

But then my world tilted. There, lounging comfortably on the couch, was Ivy—right beside Matt. They were laughing together, a chemistry between them that felt palpable and gut-wrenching. My heart dropped, ice gripping it tightly.

No, this can't be happening.

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