Chapter 96

Hannah

I woke up the next morning, my eyes still puffy from spending the night crying, to the smell of bacon wafting through the small house. Almost instantly, I felt my stomach growl and begin to cave in—Goddess, I was hungry.

With a yawn, I slowly sat up and stretched. I was still in the guest room at Zoe’s house, the pillow beside me untouched. I wondered if Zoe’s spare pillow was dented from Noah sleeping alongside her. No doubt they had shared a bed last night. It had certainly seemed like it.

Shuddering, I folded my arms around myself and shook my head as if to dispel the thoughts of what had happened after Noah had closed the door.

There was no point dwelling on it now; I had seen what I had seen. The image of Noah’s shadow standing in front of her, her slender hands reaching for him, their soft voices, had seared itself into my brain.

I was certain he had slept with her, maybe more than once, but it didn’t matter anymore. Soon, we would be divorced and I would be happier. He couldn’t even remember pivotal moments in our relationship, so why worry? Our marriage had never been important.

After quickly getting dressed, I gathered what little things I had, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and walked out into the other room.

There, in the kitchen, I saw them: Noah and Zoe moving around the room, smiling and laughing and cooking breakfast.

Like a damn married couple.

“Oh! Hannah,” Zoe said, her voice practically dripping with honey as she placed a plate of bacon and eggs in the middle of the table. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

I managed a stiff smile, although the sight of Noah’s shoulders as he flipped some pancakes on the stove made my blood boil.

“It smells good,” I said.

Zoe chuckled and slid a plate over to me. “You should have some bacon. I couldn’t possibly eat something so rich, of course, but you…” She paused, her catlike eyes sweeping over my body and lingering for far too long on my stomach before her lips twitched up into a smirk. “You seem like you enjoy those sorts of things.”

All at once, what little appetite I had had seemed to slip away; or at least, I had no desire to eat here, in front of either of them. Not after what I had seen last night, and certainly not after that little comment.

I wouldn’t give Zoe the satisfaction; likely she just wanted to see me pig out so she could use it against me at some point in the future. And to think that I had actually felt empathy for her on multiple occasions.

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” I replied with a wave of my hand. “I’m actually going to head home now.”

“Oh.” Zoe furrowed her brow. Noah slowly turned, spatula in hand, and shot me a curious look.

But I was already turning on my heel, adjusting my purse on my shoulder as I strode toward the door. “Feel free to keep the casserole dish,” I said sweetly. “Feel better, Zoe.”

Just as I was about to open the door, however, a firm hand shot out and shoved it shut once again. I stopped in my tracks, my hand still lingering on the doorknob, as I looked up to see Noah’s tall form towering over me.

“Why are you leaving?” he whispered, leaning closer. “What about the car?”

I simply shrugged and placed one hand on my hip. “I figured you could call the driver to come and pick you up whenever you’re ready,” I said, glancing around the corner to see Zoe still bustling around the kitchen with a satisfied smile on her face. “Although, you seem cozy enough here. Maybe you should stay here for a few days.”

Noah visibly bristled at my words, his ears turning a new shade of red.

“Why would I stay here?” he growled.

I didn’t bother to answer; I simply tilted my chin down at him and shot him a scathing look through my eyebrows before roughly yanking the door open, causing him to lose his grip and stumble backwards. I then held my hand out flat and waited.

Noah clenched his jaw for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth across my face, before he finally sighed. Fishing his car keys out of his pocket, he plopped them in my hand and stalked off.

Without so much as glancing back, I strode down the path to the car and drove away.

…

Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I put it in park close to the small sign and peered through the windshield.

“Bake Sale,” the sign read. “Children’s Center Fundraiser.”

My stomach was growling again, and the idea of a muffin sounded appetizing—and besides, I didn’t feel like going home. Out of spite, I felt like taking Noah’s precious car on a bit of a joyride. Maybe I would take it to the next town over for some shopping later, too.

As I walked inside the small community center, I was immediately hit with the sweet scent of confections and the sound of soft music. Tables were scattered around containing various baked goods, and I slipped my sunglasses up onto my head as I browsed.

“Luna Hannah? Is that you?” a soft voice suddenly asked. I lifted my head to see a middle-aged woman in an apron walking up to me, a group of young children watching from afar.

“Hello,” I said with a smile. “How can I help you?”

The woman beamed at me and wrung her hands a bit as she nodded her head toward the kids. “I’m Maggie, one of the instructors at the pre-school. The kids recognized you and wanted me to ask if you’d like to join us for our dreamcatcher-making session.

Quirking an eyebrow, I peered past the woman at the group of kids; they were all quite small, wearing matching little aprons and watching with wonder on their tiny faces.

Instantly, I felt whatever anger I had been feeling before ebb away. I offered the woman a grin and nodded. “I’d love to join. Thank you for inviting me.”

I followed the woman to the kids, who shyly greeted me with bashful looks on their faces. Crouching down to each of them, I greeted them all by name, taking my time to comment on their hair or their face paint or their aprons.

Over the next half hour, I joined in on the dreamcatcher session; I sat on the floor with the kids, helping them to properly wrap the string and attach the beads and feathers.

It was moments like this—being with the children, surrounded by their innocence and the sounds of their tinkling laughter—that I felt most at ease. In fact, I had all but forgotten about Noah and Zoe by the time our dreamcatchers were finished, and I even agreed to stay for another arts and crafts session as well.

“Thank you, Luna Hannah!” one of the little boys said, holding his dreamcatcher up triumphantly. “Now I can tell everyone that I got to play with a Luna!”

I laughed and pinched his cheek. “And now I get to tell everyone that I got to play with you kids,” I said.

Suddenly, however, a familiar male voice cut through the din of tiny children’s laughter.

“Fancy seeing you here.”