Blessed By The Moon

Chapter 2

4 months later

Alex returned from university just for the weekend, to celebrate Howell's promotion with a family dinner.  Family, a word that feels almost bitter now, with my lip still swollen from Howell's punch. 

But I'll dive into that properly in a moment, first, some background.

The slam of the front door broke the quiet, and I glanced up, half-annoyed, half-curious. Alex stood there, suitcase in hand, looking like he'd just stepped out of another world and into mine. His eyes found me instantly.

"Well, look who's here," he said, that stupid smirk tugging at his lips. "Stray cat. Are you ever going to leave or are you officially replacing me? "

I continued washing dishes, pretending I wasn't caught off guard. "I officially replaced you the moment I stepped foot inside the house, plus, they seem to like me more than you do."

"I like you more than I like myself too," he said, shrugging out of his jacket. "But, stray cats bite when cornered."

I tilted my head at him, letting the words slip out sharper than I meant. "Only when we want to."

The banter should've ended there. It was always like this between us, but today, something shifted. His gaze lingered too long, hot and unsteady, and suddenly the air in the room felt too tight.

Then he said it. "I'm sorry."

I froze. My chest clenched before I could stop it. "For what?" He stayed quiet, I continued "If it's about eating my leftover dinner last time you were here , trust me, I'm well over-"

"It's not that." His tone cut me off.

My throat went dry like I'd been waiting for him to say something more. Why did I even care? He's never here.

He stepped closer, and then, without warning, his lips brushed my forehead.

I went still. What the fuck?

He pulled back, too calm, too unreadable, while I sat there confused. "Goodnight, stray cat," he murmured.

"Goodnight? but we're going out for dinner." He ignored me and climbed up the stairs.

I forgot to ask why he was sorry, but I had to finish washing the dishes. I'll ask him on the way to dinner.

But by the time I was done with my chores, Alex mentioned he'd eaten something bad on the three-hour trip home. Home. Another word that's lost its warmth. He locked himself in his room since he arrived and ignored all of us, not a single reply. I promised myself I'd ask him why he was sorry when we came back, but in hindsight, I should've known something was wrong.

I'll never forget the way the full moon looked that night, casting an otherworldly glow as the three of us left the house, almost as if it was watching us with big invisible eyes. Howell was whistling Oh Happy Days  under his breath, Alison was perfecting her lipstick in the mirror. We had a reservation at  El Rincón, a Spanish restaurant, I spent all night reading google reviews of their food online and was extremely excited to try their salmon croquettes, a comment called them savory and irresistible and I've been dreaming about them ever since .

I wore a long red dress that night, nothing tight or short, just simple, but even that would be enough to condemn me later.

Dinner was a mix of laughter and clinking glasses. Howell raised his for the fourth time, laughing as he slurred slightly, "To new beginnings! To promotions! And to... to the two of us!" He grinned, throwing an arm around Alison. "Oh, and you too, Skye," he added, chuckling.