Dance Of The Rejected Luna

“Congratulations, Luna, you’re pregnant.”

I snapped my gaze to Dr. Morrison who was staring at me with a warm, practiced smile.

I gaped at her, my fingers gripping the edge of the examination table until I could have sworn that my knuckles went pale.

“Are you certain?”

“There’s no doubt.” She gestured to the screen I couldn’t bring myself to look at. “And actually, congratulations are doubly in order. You’re carrying twins.”

The air left my lungs in a slow, silent rush.

Twins.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling nothing but the smooth fabric of my blouse.

Twins… two babies were in this tummy growing already?

I had no idea how to feel beyond the shock that was washing through me. Had no idea if I should be pleased… happy and excited or if I should be worried.

Of course I have always wanted a baby. For seven years since I got married to Kieran, I had secretly prayed and hoped for this, but Kieran and I never had a deep conversation about it, so it was hard trying to picture how he would react… what he would say.

Each time I brought up conversations about babies he tactfully avoided them or brushed them under the rug. At first I didn’t notice, but he did it so frequently that it was hard not to. So I had kept that particular wish quiet… the hope to one day have my own complete family. …and now…

“Mrs. Thorne?” Dr. Morrison’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” The word came automatically. “Yes, thank you.”

She gave me another one of those kind smiles and proceeded to fill me in on things I needed to do, medications, things I should remove from my diet, but all through her speech, my mind was reeling, so her words got lost in the roar in my head.

I barely stumbled out of her office the moment she was done, and I didn’t remember signing whatever papers the receptionist slid across the counter, or walking through the sterile hallways that smelled of antiseptic and artificial lavender.

The city noise hit me when I stepped outside—car horns, distant sirens, the rhythmic thud of construction somewhere nearby. Everything sounded louder, sharper, as though my senses had suddenly recalibrated.

In the car, I sat with my hands on the steering wheel, engine running, going nowhere.

A family.

My own family.

The thought bloomed in my chest, fragile and fierce at once.

This wasn’t theoretical anymore. This was real, growing inside me, and maybe—maybe this would be the thing that finally anchored him home.

Maybe this would be the thing that would mend the broken parts of our relationship… that would fix the months of fights, late nights, and distance.

Maybe.

I imagined telling him. His face softening the way it used to, back when he looked at me like I was something precious instead of convenient. We could make this beautiful. We could.

The drive home passed in a blur of traffic lights and half-formed plans. By the time I pulled into our driveway, I’d convinced myself this was exactly what we needed.

The house was quiet when I entered, spacious and cold in the way expensive things often are. I set my purse down, kicked off my heels, and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with morning sickness.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily toward evening. Kieran would be home soon.

I made tea I didn’t drink. Straightened cushions that didn’t need straightening. Rehearsed the words in my head until they sounded almost natural.

The front door opened just after seven. I stood, smoothing my hands down my skirt, and froze when I saw he wasn’t alone.

Morgana swept in behind him, all glossy dark hair and practiced laughter, her hand resting too casually on his arm. She’d been his “best friend” for the past three years—ever since he’d made his first major business acquisition and suddenly needed someone who understood the demands of his new position. Someone who wasn’t me, apparently.

“Khione.” Kieran barely glanced my way as he shrugged out of his jacket. “I was not expecting you to wait up.”

A very funny thing to say considering that I ALWAYS waited for him every night… even though most times I got ignored like my presence was invisible.

“I have good news.” I kept my voice steady, deciding to focus on the positive, not the fact that he was back home late with a woman with him. “Can we speak privately?”

“Anything you need to say, you can say in front of Morgana.” He moved toward the bar cart, already reaching for the whiskey. “We’re all family here.”

I caught Morgana’s smug smile and ignored it the same way I decided to ignore the sting in my chest at his words.

I’d come too far to back down now.

“I’m pregnant.”

The bottle clinked against glass as Kieran went perfectly still. I stood staring at his tense back and shoulders, nervously counting the seconds… praying that when he turned, the look I’d see in his eyes would be shock, yes… but mixed with something good like love and happiness.

But when he turned… he was shocked alright, but there was no trace of joy in his eyes. His face was pale and white as a ghost’s, eyes wide with horror. He looked like I had delivered horrifying and devastating news, and my chest tightened painfully.

“You’re joking.”

“No.” I took a step toward him, hands trembling slightly. “I know we never really talked about this, that you were worried about the timing, but Kieran, this could be good for us. We could…”

The slap came so fast I didn’t see it coming. Pain exploded across my cheek, sharp and bright, and I stumbled back against the couch. I gasped, my hand flying up, shock rendering me mute.

“How the hell could you be so careless?” he yelled. “How could you allow this to happen?”

“Kieran, I didn’t…”

“I do not care about your excuses. You are getting an abortion tomorrow morning and that is final.”

I froze.

He can’t be serious. He can’t be that heartless, surely. Fine, he doesn’t want kids, but was the idea of having one so terrible that he would rather murder OUR children before they even have the chance to form, instead of giving this a chance?

I had made worse compromises for him. For seven years I had compromised… made sacrifices after sacrifices, and what had he ever done in return? Always stuck to his own comfort zone.

“No,” I shook my head, “I’m not doing that. I’m keeping this baby—”

“You don’t have a choice!” He closed the distance between us, and I’d never seen him look at me like this—like I was something that had betrayed him, something that needed to be dealt with. “You’ll do exactly as I say, Khione, just like you always do.”

Behind him, Morgana shifted, her expression hovering between satisfaction and something almost like pity.

My cheek throbbed.

My heart hammered so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.

“Kieran, please…”

“Besides.” He straightened his cufflinks, the gesture so casual it felt obscene. “Morgana is already carrying my child.”