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“The moon and the sea were the instruments of fate that brought us together. Latin was a big part of my world with biology and science. And one of the most poignant things Aslan ever said to me was: ‘Without the moon and the sea, we would never have met.’”
“The luna and the mare,” Margot whispered.
“Exactly.” I nodded. “The moment we combined those words and typed them into the search box to see if anyone else had claimed it, we knew it was ours. The fact that it was free was perfect. The fact that six years later we started a charity under the name Cor Amare was also fitting. The theme had come full circle.”
“Cor Amare?” Dylan asked. “I’ve heard of that. You clean up the oceans and donate millions per year to protect endangered sea life. Don’t you also donate to underprivileged people? Schooling and housing, that sort of thing?”
“We do. In a way, I feel like that’s our greatest achievement, not Lunamare.”
“What does it mean?” Margot grabbed a calico lacy cushion and hugged it. “I don’t know those Latin words.”
I held her stare. “Cor is heart. Amare is love. My heart was torn, and my love was lost. It fit.”
“Uh, that’s so romantic,” Margot breathed. “So you never...not once? Aslan was your last?”
“He was my last.” I nodded. “I couldn’t answer you before when you asked if he was my first, but I can tell you with every breath in my body that he was my last. My always. My forever.”
“You were never tempted to find salvation in someone else’s arms?” she asked.
“Never. Not once.”
“So...you moved in with two men who lived in happily wedded bliss...while pregnant?” Dylan helped guide me back to the story. The story that made me bleed with misery.
“I did.” Linking my fingers together, I sat straight and said, “My parents didn’t want me to go. They feared I’d do something stupid if I was away from them, but I overheard what Teddy said to them as he pulled them aside. He told them, in no uncertain words, that I was dying from a broken heart. That in order to keep me alive, I had to be free of everything that might tear out the rest of that broken heart. He convinced them I could move into their spare bedroom indefinitely. There were no memories in their home. Nothing to trigger me or make me spiral. When my father told them that it wouldn’t just be me for much longer, that they’d end up with a second house guest in a matter of months, Teddy truly became my knight in shining armour. He mentioned that he and Eddie had always wanted a child of their own. I’d seen their strict ten-year life plan. I knew they had goals of building a successful architect business, doing something ground-breaking that put their name on the map, and then adopting a child and becoming a true family.
“The idea that in a few months I’d deliver Aslan’s baby didn’t scare them. They vowed I could be as melancholy as I needed because they would be there. They would help me with every step. They would never evict me or my daughter and would do whatever they could to make my loss a little easier. They went so far beyond their assigned role as business partners that I collapsed again. My heart had skipped, and my vision had faulted, and by the time I was stable enough, my mother was nodding, and my father was agreeing, and it was settled.
“I moved into the spare bedroom of Mr. and Mr. Ross—Eddie happily took Teddy’s surname—and for the months left of my pregnancy, they helped me forget. They coddled me, went to birthing classes with me, they hugged me when I broke and helped honour Aslan’s memory by speaking of him often.
“I didn’t feel wrong living with them. I didn’t feel like I betrayed Aslan as his child was raised by two other men. In a way, Teddy and Eddie helped me keep Aslan alive for Ayla because when I couldn’t speak around my despair, they were there, telling her stories of when they’d first met Aslan on FaceTime or the texts between the three of them while Aslan learned how to renovate and needed to ask a question that YouTube couldn’t answer.”
“So...they became Ayla’s surrogate fathers?” Dylan asked, scribbling a few notes.
“They did more than that,” I murmured, remembering those heartsick days when they went out of their way to make their house my home. They’d dragged me into town and forced me to pick a paint for my new room. They transformed the walls into a rich dark grey and decorated the space with a coral-inspired silver chandelier, ivory bedspread, driftwood side tables, gauzy white curtains, and cream shaggy rugs. “They became my salvation. They didn’t treat me as if I’d shatter. They didn’t watch me as if I was one switchblade away from ending it. They gave me space to mourn but also forced me to focus on work.
