Page 105 of A Sinful Gravity

"One time, half my toenail ripped off. Blood everywhere. She glanced and said, 'It's fine. It'll grow back.'"

It stung like a knife. I reached out and gently took her other hand. It was cold, like it never warmed up. My thumb rubbed her skin, trying to share my heat.

"Cassian, you know?" She looked up, eyes glistening, but no tears fell.

"For a second there, I felt like I was ten again. Practicing pirouettes for The Nutcracker, ankle swollen like a balloon. The doctor said rest. Know what my mom said?"

"She didn't ask if you were okay?" My voice came out rough.

She shook her head.

"She just stood at the studio door, staring coldly. 'A Crawford doesn't get to be a cripple. If you can't dance perfectly, you don't belong in this house.'"

She twisted her lips in a bitter smirk. It hurt more than tears.

My heart clenched like an invisible fist had grabbed it, squeezing the air out.

"Luna..."

"She only cared if I was useful."

I squeezed her hand. It trembled in mine.

"Then I got it." She continued. "To her, I'm not a daughter. I'm a product."

"You're not a product," I said, voice hoarse. "You're a person."

She turned to me, eyes complicated.

"When we first got married, I thought I'd finally escaped." She hesitated, then said it.

It twisted my gut. I'd shattered her fresh start.

"I'm sorry." I pulled her closer. She didn't pull away. "I didn't get it before. I was a fucking idiot."

She stayed quiet, sniffed.

"Luna, I promise," I said. "It won't happen again."

After a long pause, she murmured, "Mm-hmm."

It was soft, but enough to ease the tension in me. Her breathing steadied, heartbeat slowing.

"You hungry?" I asked, trying to lighten things up.

She blinked, caught off guard.

"That dinner tonight... You barely ate." I added. "Too busy talking. Food went cold."

She thought, nodded. "A little."

I got up, hit the kitchen. Opened the fridge, scanned. Steak? Too heavy after her emotional rollercoaster. Fruit? Too basic, not comforting enough.

My eyes hit the freezer. Chloe mentioned Luna craved sweets under stress, but she always held back for her dancer's body.

Ice cream. Vanilla, from when Chloe visited. Cheese sticks, chips, even a box of colorful macarons. Laila begged for them, then crashed before eating.

I grabbed it all, poured milk, and carried it back.