Chasing the Moon: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

by S. M. Soto

  “Not looking at us,” Endymion murmurs, bending near my ear. His warm breath ghosts across the back of my neck, and a quiver rips down my spine. A small, inaudible gasp escapes my lips. “They’re looking at you.”

  Goosebumps.

  I swing my gaze up to his as we near our table, unsure if I heard him right.

  “Me? Why would they be looking at me?”

  The corner of Endymion’s mouth quirks, and the effects of that small movement hit me square in the chest. “Why wouldn’t they be looking at you?” he counters, with so much heat in his eyes that I break into a sweat and have to look away.

  I damn near scramble back into my seat once we reach our table. I can feel my parents’ questioning gazes on me, but I pretend not to notice.

  Just act natural.

  Be normal.

  “Mommy. You look like a tomato,” Luna announces to the whole table.

  My eyes slam shut, and I have to fight the urge to slide down the chair and hide underneath the table.

  Oh, my sweet girl. You’re too honest sometimes.

  The rest of dinner goes off without a hitch. Well, for everyone else at least. I’m still a nervous, jittery mess. Every time Endymion looks my way, I’m quick to look at anything and anyone else, and I pretend I don’t notice. Though it’s obvious I do because the flaming in my face gives me away. Every. Single. Time. I can tell he tries to fight his laughter where I’m concerned.

  I notice the multiple times his mouth quirks up as though he’s enjoying the way he’s making me fidget in his presence. As much as I try not to pay it any mind, I can’t help but notice the way he stares at me unabashedly during dinner. It obviously doesn’t escape my mother’s notice either. She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  My parents try to engage me in conversation throughout the night, but for the most part, I keep it short and simple, not wanting the spotlight on me. I’m just trying to make it through the rest of the night unscathed.

  I’d say the highlight of tonight is studying Endymion and Luna together. He’s effortless with her, and she seems drawn to him. That’s the peak and downfall of my night, watching the way he interacts with her. I get a dull throb in my chest when I see his smile or hear his laughter. It’s so carefree. It hurts because he has no clue the little girl sitting next to him is his daughter.

  At some point during the night, I glance at my mother, who is darting her gaze back and forth between Luna and End. I expected her to have that annoying grin on her face, but color me surprised when I realize she’s frowning at them. And when she looks at me, I can see the wheels churning in her head.

  This is not good.

  Thankfully, Dad keeps the conversation moving throughout dinner. It doesn’t escape my notice, though, how he pushes the food around on his plate. He’s been doing it at almost every meal, pretending to eat, making his plate look like he’s touched more of his food than he actually has. Worry seizes my gut. It’s the little things like this that make his illness seem more daunting. It really is happening and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

  It feels as if it’s life’s curse—watching the person who brought you into this world fall apart. It’s a simple and painful reminder that life is so much shorter than any of us imagine.

  My dad asks Endymion about his family, checking on them to see how they’re doing. Apparently, Dad spends a lot of time with them for birthdays and family barbecues. It makes me feel guilty for leaving him here on his own.

  How lonely was he without Mom and me here?

  Why didn’t he reach out sooner?

  Those are just a few of the questions that run through my head during dinner. I also learn a few things about End that I didn’t know before tonight. It’s weird. I spent so much time crushing on this man, trying to steal moments and time with him, and now that I’m not vying for his attention, he’s everywhere. I spent so much of my time chasing him, trying to get him to notice me, and now that I’ve given up that pursuit, he’s fallen back into my life, almost on a silver platter of sorts.

  He has a niece of his own. His sister, Freya, got pregnant at a young age, too, though, unlike me, she eventually married the baby’s father. It made me equal parts happy and guilty to learn about his niece. I tried to make myself believe that at least I didn’t have to feel too bad about keeping their granddaughter a secret and depriving them of a grandchild because they already had one. But as soon as that thought passed, the guilt slammed into me because, yes, I should feel bad about what I’m doing. I am depriving grandparents of a grandchild. I am depriving End of a relationship with his daughter, but I think what hurts me the most is realizing I am depriving my pride and joy of so much more love. She has a slew of other people out there who would love her fiercely.

  It only makes me hate myself more by the time the night comes to an end.

  I am exhausted when we all say good night. I’ve spent so many years suppressing my emotions that they all seemed to bubble to the surface during dinner. It was tiring to pretend everything in our little orbit was okay, when really, nothing was. And chances are, when the truth comes out, nothing in our lives will ever be okay again. With a lingering stare, that lasts a few beats too long, I say goodbye to End, hoping that, somehow, I’ll be able to make this right.

  When I tuck my sweet girl into bed, I lie beside her and watch her sleep, tracing the planes of her soft features that are identical to Endymion’s. The only attributes she got from me are the freckles and her nose. Everything else is all Endymion.

  She doesn’t have the blinding pale skin that I have. There is a golden tint to her skin that comes from Endymion. Endymion’s mom was born in Greece, so he truly is my version of a Greek god. Her beautiful eyes are a shade darker than her father’s, but the resemblance in color is still striking. Her hair color and texture are another thing she inherited from him.

  With a soft lingering kiss on her forehead, I keep my lips rested against her skin. A smarting sensation pierces my heart and a shot of lightning strikes my soul.

  “I’ll make it right, baby. I promise.”

  Quietly, I close the door to my old bedroom, leaving it cracked. Everything feels so heavy. There’s so much on my mind; I just want to sit in peace for a little while and think. Think about the future. The past. What comes next.

  I ask my mom and dad to keep an eye on Luna while I head to the creek. They don’t even bat an eye, since it’s what I always did as a kid. The creek has always been a safe place for me. That’s the only thing that hasn’t changed in all these years.

  The creek is the one place in this world where I feel right. I feel content here. It is easy to soak in the night sky. It is easy to talk to the moon out here because I feel like she listens. Out here, I don’t feel the pressure. The pressure to find the parts of me I left hidden between pages of a story I never wanted to forget, but somehow, End is always in the place I looked. The sun sees what I do, but the moon, the moon knows all my secrets. Even the darkest ones I’ll never be able to admit, even to myself.

  Out here, with the rippling sounds of nature and the smell of fresh grass, I never grow tired of the moon. It’s cratered with imperfections, visible from light years away. And, at times, I feel like a walking, talking imperfection. The moon has a dark side, just like so many of us, and it sits alone in the sea of stars. For all intents and purposes, I feel like I am the moon.

  There’s a cool breeze out tonight that ruffles my hair, warding a slight chill through my body. When I pass the hill and get to the creek, my mouth turns down as I take in all the garbage, just as I did the night before. I also can’t ignore the flashes of memories that slam into me as I stand near the dark, murky water, watching it move back and forth in a dance of sorts. Running and chasing. Reaching and falling back.

  The creek has always held some of my best memories, but now, as I stand here, there are new memories, ones I’ve tried like hell to forget over the years. I close my eyes, thinking of that night with Endymion. I picture that foo
lish doe-eyed girl, thinking she finally had a chance with the boy who had always put those stars in her eyes. I was so reckless that night. I put so much faith in a love I so desperately thought I wanted. But that is just the thing about chasing love—you can’t. Love comes to you when it’s ready. Love comes at the most inopportune times. And if you are lucky, love won’t find you at all.

  For a long time, I wondered if I ever really loved Endymion. Could love truly be one-sided? Could you have so much hope and love for a relationship, for a future that wasn’t promised, even if the other person didn’t know you existed? I didn’t think so. It wasn’t until I gave birth to Luna that I learned what true love is. It is smiling in the face of agony. It is counting my lucky stars that out of all the souls in the universe, the moon brought her to me.

  My obsession with the moon is obvious, but I named Luna after the moon because the it is magic for the soul, and it is light for the senses. The second I held my daughter in my arms, that’s exactly what she was to me. She was a wonder. She was my moonchild.

  Plopping down on the grass, I rest back on my elbows, just as I used to do when I was younger, and I stare up at the dark indigo sky. There’s a smattering of stars dusted along the dark blanket, and the moon, without fail, casts a bright silvery glow along the ground.

  “Give me a sign,” I whisper to the moon. “Please tell me what to do.”

  I close my eyes, waiting for the answer to come to me. I’m not surprised when it doesn’t. Not even the moon can help me out of this predicament.

  “Figures,” I mumble under my breath.

  “What does?”

  I let out a startled yelp at the sound of the deep voice. I swing around, toward the source, eyes wide with surprise when I spot Endymion eating up the distance between us. He slows to a stop a few feet beside me, staring down at me.

  He’s wearing the same clothes he wore to dinner, and somehow, they look even better on him in an outdoor setting.

  “What…how…” I trail off, unable to form a coherent sentence. Endymion chuckles. The sound drifts down to me, swirling through my body, raising the gooseflesh on my skin. If this were a cartoon, his laughter would have a stream of music notes attached to it, and those notes would encircle me.

  “I had a feeling you’d be out here.”

  My brows jump. “Why would you think that?”

  He shrugs, dropping down on the grass next to me, looking out at the water. “You came here last night, so I guess I was hoping you’d do the same tonight, too.” He leans back on his forearms and elbows, mirroring the pose I had adopted minutes before. “It’s oddly peaceful out here.”

  “It is,” I whisper, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s here, sitting next to me again.

  “It’s weird. I’ve always been drawn to this creek. I’ve just never understood why. But I guess I can see why you come out here. It’s quiet. Helps you think.”

  My heart lurches for multiple reasons, one being the fact that he feels drawn to this place. The place we created a child together. And also, because he admitted he came here in the hopes of seeing me.

  “Why?”

  He turns to look at me with his brows pulled together in a questioning gaze. I feel his eyes sweeping across my face, lingering on my lips, then back up to my eyes.

  “Why?” he parrots. “Why it helps me think, or why something else?” There’s a knowing gleam in his eyes. He knows exactly what I’m referring to. The corner of his mouth kicks up, and he puts me out of my misery by answering for me. He shifts, distributing his weight, so he can face me. I feel his gaze burrow beneath my skin. There’s an odd current in the air as we stare at each other. “Because I wanted to see you again.”

  My stomach dips.

  Butterflies that I haven’t felt since I was a young girl take flight, flapping their wings recklessly. The way he’s looking at me…the way I’m feeling…it’s all so dangerous.

  “But why?” My voice is nothing more than a whisper. I’m surprised he even hears it.

  “Because I can’t get you out of my head, Selene.” Ever so slowly, he starts leaning toward me. My eyes grow wide, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Part of me wants to push him away and run from this, but the bigger part, that part wants his lips on mine again.

  We’re like magnets, a negative and a positive drawn together. I feel my body leaning in to meet him, even when I know it’s wrong. Even when I know this is a mistake, I can’t seem to stop it from happening.

  Just before our lips touch, our breaths intermingling—on the verge of getting reacquainted—the soft pants blow across each other’s faces, breathing each other in, clarity smacks me on the forehead. I freeze, and like a bucket of ice was dumped on me, my entire body grows unbearably cold. With quick, jerky movements, I back up, darting my gaze away, looking at anything but him.

  My chest burns as I stare out at the water. I can feel his gaze searing into the side of my skull. I press my lips together tightly, fighting to breathe past the tight fist around my lungs.

  “You can’t do that,” I scold.

  “Do what?”

  My heart pricks with regret. “You know what.”

  Silence descends between us as we just sit and stare out at the rippling creek, avoiding each other.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asks, after some time passes.

  Tightness blocks my airway. “Sure.”

  “That guy at the restaurant tonight…were you considering his offer? Of seeing him?”

  “I—well, no…I’m not exactly in a good place to be dating right now.”

  “Hmm.” If I’m not mistaken, the sound is a pleased one. “So, you wouldn’t make an exception for anyone?”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  He laughs. The sound, so warm and raspy, that it travels from my fingertips down to my toes. “I mean, if I wanted to take you out, what would your answer be?”

  Slowly, I turn to face him. I search his eyes, looking for his angle, trying to figure out if this is some sick joke. But all I see reflected back at me is genuine interest.

  “I…no…we couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

  A wide grin spreads across his face. It’s slow in its descent but blinding, nonetheless. He’s enjoying this.

  “Give me one good reason.”

  “I can give you several.”

  His mouth quirks. “Fine. Let me hear them.”

  “I—” I choke on all the reasons I should say. A disbelieving sound bubbles up my throat at how ludicrous this whole situation is. A heavy moment hangs between us. Him staring at me, waiting for me to tell him all the reasons this isn’t a good idea, and me, staring at him, knowing all the words I need to say, but none come forth.

  “One date, Selene. One date,” he says, growing serious. His warm gaze sweeps across my face, lingering on my mouth and eyes. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to split his time.

  My chest squeezes painfully, and sadness enters my heart. “I can’t.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a while. We just continue staring at one another, soaking each other in.

  “That’s fair,” he finally says after some time. My younger self is screaming at how stupid and idiotic I am. “Doesn’t mean I can’t change your mind.”

  I raise a brow at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  He shrugs, a small, confident smile stealing over his handsome features. “Courting you, of course.”

  A loud laugh bursts past my lips. My eyes widen, and I slap a hand over my mouth, trying to take it back. If possible, his grin widens. “Give me more of that, Selene.”

  “More of what?”

  “More of your smiles. Your laughter. More of everything. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

  A heaviness settles between us—a brand-new form of tension created by the man sitting next to me.

  “I’m serious, Endymion. We can’t…I can’t.”

  A
frown steals over my face when he pushes to his feet and smirks down at me. “I heard you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change your mind. Good night, Selene.”

  I watch slack-jawed as he crosses over the hill, leaving me to my own turbulent thoughts. Just before he disappears, he shoots an impish grin over his shoulder that I feel down to my bones. It has my pulse skyrocketing, and my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, squeezing between my ribs.

  Once he’s out of sight, I flop back on the grass, staring up at the starry sky. The moon is still there, hanging just as proudly as she was before. I lie there for a while, trying to process what just happened.

  Endymion asked me out.

  He wants to court me.

  How the hell am I going to say no?

  It’s been two days since the night at the creek with Selene, and I’ve yet to accomplish any kind of courting. I never had to go out of my way to chase after a woman before. I wasn’t expecting her to agree right away to the idea of a date, but hell, I didn’t expect the flat-out no I’d gotten either. That was a first.

  And oddly, I found I liked it.

  It was a challenge.

  There was a thrill there, something I haven’t felt with a woman in God knows how long. It was thrilling, knowing I held so much space in her mind in her younger years. It makes me wonder if she still has those lingering thoughts. Does she still harbor any of those feelings toward me? Is any part of that crush still there?

  The real kicker for me is how blind I was in my youth. How did I miss it? How did I miss her crush on me? If it’s as obvious as everyone is making it out to be, how had I never noticed?

  I am still trying to process, trying to think of a way to court her. I know next to nothing about her. None of the guys know anything about her either. It seems my best sources of information are her family, and I’m not sure how to broach the subject.