Chapter 138

Hannah & Noah

Hannah’s POV

A younger Noah and Zoe stared up at me from the faded old photographs, joyous smiles plastered across their youthful faces. I hadn’t seen Noah smile like that in… I couldn’t even remember how long. Years.

And he had offered this, a memory of that joy that he had never truly felt with me, to the Moon Goddess.

For a long time, I could only stare at the photo in disbelief, my hands shaking. “Noah, what is this?” I finally breathed once I found my voice. “Why... Why would you offer a picture of you and Zoe to the Moon Goddess, of all the things to offer?”

Noah’s eyes widened, and he quickly reached out to grab the photo from my hands. “Hannah, that’s not mine—”

“Don’t lie to me!” I snapped, jerking the picture away from his grasp before he could take it. “I recognize the fabric. This is your offering. I found it in the mud, and now I wish I had left it there.”

“Hannah, it’s not mine,” Noah insisted, his voice rising. “Look, I don’t know how that got there, but it’s not what I offered.”

“Oh, yeah? What did you offer, then?” I asked.

Noah floundered for a moment, the tips of his ears turning red. “I… I can’t tell you.”

“Of course not. Because there was nothing else.” I scoffed, struggling to fight back the burning tears that were pricking at the backs of my eyes. “The offering was supposed to be something precious to you. And you chose this?” I threw the photo at his chest, watching as it fluttered to the ground between us.

After a brief, tense silence, Noah bent to pick it up, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration. “Hannah, you have to listen to me,” he said as he dusted off the photograph. “This isn’t what you think.”

“Then what is it?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Explain to me why you had a picture of you and Zoe wrapped in the cloth of your offering. Explain to me why you still even have that picture to begin with.”

Noah ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the words. His eyes flickered down to the photograph and lingered there meaningfully for a moment. “I don’t know how it got there. That picture is old, from years ago. I haven’t seen it in—”

“Save it,” I cut him off, holding up a hand and gritting my teeth. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”

Noah stared at me incredulously, making it all the more difficult to hide my pain. The hurt was overwhelming, threatening to choke me. Even though we were getting a divorce, I had still put something signifying our relationship into my offering. I still valued what we once had, the memories we had shared with one another.

But apparently, Noah never valued our relationship at all. I should have expected this, and yet… It stung all the same.

“Hannah,” Noah said, taking a step toward me. “I didn’t put this in my bundle.”

I shook my head, instinctively backing away from him. Lies, I thought to myself. Just a bunch of lies. “I think you should go,” I finally muttered.

“But—”

“Now, Noah,” I said firmly, pointing to the door. “Just... Go. I need to change.”

For a moment, Noah raised his finger and looked like he might argue further. But then his shoulders slumped ever so slightly in defeat, and he lowered his hand. “Whatever. Have it your way,” he said quietly, but not without a hint of venom in his voice. “But this isn’t over. We need to talk about this.”

I didn’t respond, just watched as he walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, turning back to look at me one last time. Before he could say anything, I waved my hand at him and turned my head. “Get out of my sight.”

Noah opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again. His jaw clenched tightly as he turned and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound made me wince, my arms wrapping around myself in a protective gesture.

It was only once he was gone that I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding, and a cold realization washed over me like ice water.

Our marriage really was over. It had been over from the beginning. I knew that for certain now.

…

Noah’s POV

Noah stormed out of Hannah’s room and slammed the door shut behind himself. As he strode down the hall, he couldn’t keep his mind from reeling over what had just happened. A little ways down the hallway, as the sounds of the indoor festival reached his ears, his steps faltered.

“Dammit…” he whispered to himself. He leaned against a nearby pillar, the photograph of him and Zoe clutched tightly in his hand. Why wouldn’t Hannah listen to him?

Noah couldn’t help it; a pang of sadness washed over him as he replayed Hannah’s words in his head. She genuinely believed he had offered this picture to the Moon Goddess, no matter how much he tried to convince her otherwise.

She thought that he didn’t value their relationship.

But that wasn’t true. Perhaps their marriage was over, but that didn’t mean that Noah didn’t value it in some capacity. He wouldn’t have made an offering so blatantly disrespectful of it.

Noah hadn’t made an offering of this picture—he didn’t even know where it had come from. It was from years ago, a relic of a past he had long since put behind him. Last he could recall, he had slipped it into a box of old photographs and tucked it away in his closet.

He would never…

Sighing, he unfolded the photo and studied it closely in the dim light of the hallway. He and Zoe looked so young, so carefree. It was strange seeing it now, after all this time. Noah tried to remember the last time he had felt this happy, and his mind came up blank. But that wasn’t important right now.

As far as he knew, only he and Zoe had copies of this photo. So how had it ended up wrapped in the cloth of his offering?

Noah’s brow furrowed as he considered the possibilities. Someone must have planted it there, but who? And why?

He pushed himself off the door, tucking the photo into his pocket. He needed to find Zoe. If anyone could shed light on this situation, it would be her.

As Noah descended the stairs back to the main hall, the sounds of the festival grew louder. People were laughing and talking, the crisis of the sudden rainstorm seemingly forgotten. The dance hall smelled like fresh food and incense, and the servants scurried about mechanically with piles of towels in their hands.

But Noah barely noticed any of it. His mind was focused solely on finding answers. And hopefully, the culprit behind this.

Zoe wouldn’t do something like that, right? What would even be her motive?

Noah stepped back into the crowded dance hall, his eyes scanning the faces around him. Vendors were busy selling their wares, children ran between the legs of adults, and couples swayed to the music playing in the background. But Noah saw none of it.

His eyes darted from person to person, searching for a familiar blonde head in the sea of faces. His heart raced as his gaze swept across the dance hall, looking for Zoe.

He had to find her.