Page 86 of Lavender Moon

But still… this isn’t my Luna.

A sudden flash of Luna in the bathtub under the cold shower assaults me before I blink back to the moment and am once again studying this dark and shattered expressionistic product of my wife’s inner thoughts and feelings, before another flash hits me… Luna in her power strike class, looking furious with her forceful punches and kicks, as if she were fighting off Satan himself. Luna’s eyes looking puffy when she showed up to the bonfire last night, and then again with the tears in her eyes in the kitchen.

I did this.

This whole time, she’s been suffering on the inside while trying to be brave on the outside. For me… She’s been donning her tough-as-nails armor for me, trying to get me back on my feet, all the while I’ve been tearing her down on the inside.

I was wrong both those other times.

This is rock bottom.

Unable to look at this anymore, I back out of the bedroom and turn to retreat into my own. The excessive heat I felt from the shower is gone, replaced by a damp chill that’s only partly courtesy of my wet hair and cooled water droplets clinging to my skin.

I have to do something, I think as I reach in the dresser and pull out a Henley.

How can I make this right? My heart pummels rapidly in my chest as I pull the shirt on over my head, the material clinging to my dewy skin.

She was meant to light up the whole world, not just mine, and it would be a crime to waste that light on a broken-down lost cause: a wounded veteran who couldn’t come home to her whole. I wonder for just a split second if setting her free would be a gift to the rest of the world… But too bad for them, because it turns out I’m still as selfish as ever when it comes to her.

Besides, I saw in her eyes last night how much she doesn’t want that, and I know now neither do I.

Consider me fucking awake. Time to find a way to salvage this so that I can keep Luna with me.

After pulling on jeans, one of my earlier conversations with Luna bubbles to the surface of my percolating psyche.

I want you to try, Kaleb. You’re not trying.

I remember not knowing exactly what she meant in that moment and blowing it off, not caring to, but it’s so damn easy now to realize she meant trying at everything. My marriage with her, and getting myself back.

I’m going to try, Luna. I can tell her I’ve woken up and seen the error of my ways all I want, but that doesn’t mean shit unless I do it. Besides, expressing myself verbally has never been my forte and she knows it.

I wish I knew what the fuck to do, and start stressing out over it for the next few minutes. When I realize it’s taking me in the wrong direction, I take some deep breaths. I need to try, but that doesn’t mean conquer the world immediately. Small steps is fine. Just go with it, I nod to myself.

After lacing up my boots, I wander out into the hallway and down towards the kitchen.

I find Luna at the very table, playing with the design app on her phone. There’s about two bites taken out of her French toast that’s been pushed aside, and her hand absently scratches Busters ears, whose curled up in her lap. She looks up when she hears me approaching and her eyebrows go up.

I stand like an idiot for a minute, not saying anything as I take her in. My brave girl who currently hides the dark pain that she’s released onto a canvas in her room.

“You look nice,” she tells me, her eyes panning me up and down.

“Thanks,” I murmur, feeling stupid and sheepish as I should be saying that to her every day.

“Something going on today?” she asks with gentle curiosity.

“No,” I answer, twisting my wedding ring around my finger as I keep looking at her, looking for the words to say. “Just… trying.”

Her facial expression doesn’t change except for her eyes. I see a light spark to life in them though she tries to keep her face neutral as she nods.

“Thought I’d run up to the market,” I say, hiking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the front door. “You know,” I shrug, “get out of the house and all that. We need anything?”

“Um…” those bright eyes blink as she tries to think of something, and I already feel like I’m on top of the world for the change I’m seeing in her, no matter how faint. “Coffee creamer?” she finally says.

“You got it,” I promise before turning and heading for the door.

* * *

Luna

---