CHAPTER 2 ?
1078 Words
Moon P.O.V
I know that he only sees me as his younger sister, but how could I question my heart if it's so sure about my feelings?
And when I look at my son, there's an uncanny resemblance to his father. Uncanny, even; same heavy-lidded eyes, same bent jawline. The way his little hands fold in upon themselves when he's sleeping sends me visions of him. It's both a solace and an agony.
"Moon!" Gray's voice hauls me out of my musing, threaded with that ever-familiar teasing lilt. "I heard at school you have a suitor. Who's the lucky guy?"
I glance hastily down at the envelope in my hands, my cheeks warming as I remember finding the letter tucked into my locker earlier that day. "None of your business," I mutter, trying to brush him off, but the crimson of my cheeks gives me away.
Gray grins, interest sparked in his eyes. "What's that—a love letter?" he asks, leaning in closer.
I scowl, trying to be nonchalant. "Whatever, Gray. Mind your own business."
But Gray's never been one to back off easily. He chuckles and, in one swift motion before I have time to react, snatches the envelope from my hands. "Let me see that, little sister."
"Hey! Give me that!" I exclaim, jumping up to retrieve it, but he's too tall. My fingers grasp at the air just below his hand.
Gray laughs and holds the letter up out of reach, teasingly swinging it side to side. "Come on, calm down, and let me read it," he says, pushing me back with a playful nudge.
"Don't be such a big damn jerk all the time."
He smirks, looking down at me with that God-awful lovable and despicable grin. "I got it from Dad," he says, tone light and teasing.
"Dear my loving Moon." Gray starts to read the letter out loud in his best mock-serious voice. I groan, reaching to take it from him. His laughter fills the room as he holds it out of reach with an ease that sends me jumping after it like a child chasing a balloon.
"Yeah, yeah, just give me that!" I exclaim in exasperation. I leap into the air for one last bound, catching him and pinning to the floor. We land in a heap-the letter fluttering down beside us-my body is draped over his in an awkward sort of way.
His face is so close to mine that I can hear the steady beat of his heart, and the scent of minty freshness washes over me. Time seems to come to a standstill as the teasing stops and in its place is an uncomfortable, heavy silence. My heart is pounding hard, but not from the exertion-just from the closeness, the sudden realization that we have stepped across an invisible line.
To break the tension, I quickly grab the love letter and scramble off of him. "I told you to just give it to me," I grumble turning a blind eye to the heat in my cheeks as I leave the room.
Later, still standing in front of the mirror, fresh from my first shower since giving birth, I let out a long sigh. My reflection stares back at me, so unfamiliar and new. The sagging skin and softened curves scream reminders of everything my body has been through. It's weird to still have this bump, even after the delivery of the twins. I knew that my body would change, but seeing it in reality does feel different. I trace a finger along the faint stretch marks that map my lower abdomen, memories of the life that once grew inside me.
I pull on an oversized graphic tee-one of Dad's old shirts that I'd stolen for comfort. It hangs loosely over my frame, a reminder of how much my body has transformed. I'm wearing it with my favorite black leggings, whose elastic fabric is such a relief against the tender skin. I began to braid my hair into two neat French plaits and tried to divert my concentration towards the task at hand, towards anything other than the thoughts crowding my mind.
Today is the day we finally go home. It should be a time of excitement, but all that fills me is a dull ache in my chest. Gray didn't come to see me in the hospital. Not once. I tell myself it's better this way, that it's easier on him if he doesn't know the truth.
"Thanks, Mom. I think we're ready to go home," I say, trying to keep my voice from wobbling as I scoop up one of the babies.
Mom beams, but her eyes can't hide the layer of unease that laces through her tone. "Your dad's waiting in the lobby," she says, tenderly straightening out the minute hat on my daughter's head.
I flash a smile in return, but there's some part of mine that can't quiver all the way up to my eyes. We begin walking to the elevator when Mom gives me a sideward glance, the question barely cloaked in her gaze. I know precisely what's about to pour from her lips before she opens them.
"I haven't seen their father yet. Is he not planning to visit you?" she asks carefully, her tone laced with concern.
My heart suddenly skips a beat. The truth weighs heavy on my tongue, but I just can't let it out. Not now, not ever. "Don't even think about him," I snap, trying to sound convincing. "We broke up."
"Broke up? How come, I have never seen his face before." Mom questioned.
It is a long story to tell Mother. Probably, I will tell you later, or probably when I already gain my energy.
My mind is racing. I don't want to lie to my Mom, but she was the first person I could trust the most. How? How could I say her only daughter became pregnant by her stepbrother, and it's entirely my fault? I don't blame him either. I knew in the beginning I was the only one who wanted that night.
Mom's brow creases, but she nods slowly and easily, accepting my lie. I hate how easily the lies come now, how simple it is to hide the truth behind this wall of anger. It's necessary, though. If Gray ever found out he was the father of these two precious babies, everything would change.
And I'm not ready for that.
- Writer
