Page 296 of Ruins
He disappears down the hall, and I guide Luna to the kitchen, my heart still buzzing from the joy of her arrival.
The moment we step into the kitchen, my heart warms. The table is set with pastries, snacks, and a carafe of freshly brewed coffee, steam curling into the air like an invitation.
“Santo must have done all this,” I say, gesturing toward the spread as I watch Luna’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“He’s a keeper, isn’t he?” she says with a wide grin, taking a seat and immediately reaching for a muffin.
“He is,” I reply with a giggle, sitting down beside her.
Our laughter fills the kitchen as we dive into stories of old and new, moments shared and moments missed. We talk about Mimi and her reluctance to return home, her newfound popularity at Andras, and everything in between. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel a sense of normalcy returning to my life.
With Luna here, it’s as if nothing has changed.
Eventually, the conversation takes a more serious turn. Luna’s gaze lingers on me a moment longer than usual, her smile fading slightly. She reaches across the table, her hand warm as it covers mine.
“How are youreallydoing?” she asks, her voice soft but insistent.
“I’m good,” I reassure her. “We’re good.”
“I mean with what you had to do,” she says quietly. “Santo told me.”
I nod, understanding now why my husband set this up. I won’t speak to him about the lives I took.
“I know I did what I had to in order to survive, but I hated it,” my eyes well with tears and Luna wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I hated it.”
The sob that wretches out of me is cleansing as my friend holds me,
“We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she whispers softly. “We can let it fall in the back recesses of our mind, okay?”
I sniffle and nod. “Santo says I’ll never have to do that again.”
She nods seriously, “With a husband like that, I believe it.”
I giggle at that, and she chuckles wiping the tears from her eyes that haven’t fallen. “Want to hear something weird?” she asks, letting me go.
“Of course,” I say, grabbing a napkin and wiping my tear-stained cheeks.
“Nico’s downstairs,” she says, her lips tucked between her teeth.
“What?” I ask, both confused and shocked.
She shrugs, “He’s circling the block, he doesn’t realize that I know he’s there, but the man’s been following me formonths.”
“Why?” I ask and Luna’s face turns mauve, she shrugs again.
“I don’t know, but having abeastlystalker isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me.”
We laugh and continue our conversation; I can’t help but feel grateful for this moment of respite from outside worries. As hours pass by and evening bathes the city in its soft glow, Luna finally takes her leave. I walk her to the elevator, promising to see her again soon.
I find Santo still in his study, drowning in stacks of blueprints, his laptop blinking with unread emails. His sleeves are pushed up, his fingers tangled in his hair, the weight of the world sitting heavy on his shoulders.
"You're working too hard," I say quietly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
He looks up at me with tired eyes, but there’s a smile—small, lingering, the kind that always makes my heart skip a beat.
"And you're distracting me too much," he counters, his voice edged with amusement as his hands find my waist, pulling me onto his lap.
"Then I guess I should leave," I tease, feigning an attempt to get up.
