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“Yes, please. Absolutely. Anytime.”
Luna’s right eye twitches. And her left eye joins in a second later. She frowns to try and stop the twitching, but it just makes her nostrils twitch. Not her lips, though, which is the thing I’d really like to see turn up. “That’s a big change.”
I nod, too emphatically, but it’s alright. It’s okay that my head looks like it’s going to detach from my body and roll down to the next table. It might spoil their lunch, but I’d still probably be grinning like a blathering idiot, seeing as I can’t seem to stop.
“I…alright. What’s your number?”
I rattle off the digits so enthusiastically that they all blend together. I try one more time, going slower and working through each number for good measure. Luna doesn’t write it down, so I really hope she remembers it. If not, it’s not like I don’t know where to find her. Unless she packs up and leaves in the middle of the night. The thought sends shivers of panic ripping through me, and I have to gulp down my insecurity and worry.
It’s shocking how well Luna can read me. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to pack up and leave in the middle of the night. The shop is my life, New Orleans is my home, and most of my family and all my friends are here. This is where I belong.”
Instinct makes me want to rocket out of my chair, land next to her, wrap an arm around her, pull her close, and promise her that she’s fine. She’s safe. And I’m also going nowhere.
I know the image I have in my head is entirely out because Luna wouldn’t accept an embrace. She doesn’t need an embrace or me. She survived on her own, started her own business, and raised our son all by herself. She. Doesn’t. Need. Me.
But I know she’s always had a huge heart—at least until I stomped all over it and shattered it—and because she’s an incredible person, she might just give me another chance.
“If you don’t want me to look after Milo until you can find another nanny, it’s fine. I could try and find someone too, but I’d still like to see him. We could, or you could, if you’re willing, come up with something. A sort of schedule if you like. I can be free anytime. I can rearrange my work, do it later in the day, or earlier, or…or…okay. I’m going to calm down and leave this up to you. And not in the guilty, pressuring kind of way either. I just…I want you to be okay. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. Again.”
“I’m tougher than you think,” Luna whispers, but there’s a catch in her voice.
“I know that.” I want to reach for her more than anything. How could I have spent the past five years telling myself I didn’t want this? Her? That it was a good thing we didn’t end up together? How could I have thought my life was complete without her? “I just don’t want to give you another reason to have to be.”
The bracelet starts burning up a storm again. Now, it’s burning up my pants and very, very close to my nuts.
Luna slides out of her chair. I know she has to go no matter how much I’d like to keep her there for a few more minutes. Just a few. But she has a store, a life, family, and friends. None of which include me.
What was I thinking when I thought it’s just the way I wanted it?
I slide away from the table too. Then, I study our lunch. “You didn’t even have any lobster.” Now I feel like an even bigger donkey of an ass because I wrecked her lunch.
Luna’s nose wrinkles. “You’re right.” She leans over the table, grabs three whole lobsters, opens her purse and stuffs them in.
I gape at her. How did I ever let this woman go? “You, uh, forgot the butter.”
She shakes her head, her lips twitching because she’s trying not to smile or laugh. “I didn’t want a to-go bag. I thought this would emphasize my point so much better. But you’re right. Crap.” With a sigh, she unpacks the lobsters, and we both sit back down.
I flag a server over and ask if we can have everything boxed up—just one box. I’ll let Luna take it all. When the server comes back with a giant bag, Luna doesn’t even wait for me to offer it to her.
She scoops it up and doesn’t give me another look. Instead, she winds her way through the restaurant, out to the front, and then she’s gone with at least eight or ten lobsters, a pound of melted butter, and a piece of blueberry pie.
The bracelet in my pocket just keeps burning, getting hotter and hotter by the minute.
