Luna Lucky

8

I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands gripped the counter as I tried to make sense of what just happened. His wife. The words echoed in my mind like a cruel joke I couldn’t escape. That woman’s face, her confident tone, and the damning photo burned into my memory.

Will wasn’t just lying—he was living a completely different life. And I’d been naive enough to believe in every sweet word he said.

The door jingled, snapping me out of my spiral. I wiped at my eyes, forcing myself to look up. A young woman with dark curls and a hoodie that seemed two sizes too big walked in. She glanced around briefly before her gaze settled on me.

“You alright?” she asked, her voice softer than I expected.

I blinked, unsure how to respond. “I—yeah. I’m fine,” I lied, my voice cracking.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You don’t look fine.” She stepped closer, leaning casually against the counter but keeping enough distance to give me space. “Want to talk about it?”

I should’ve told her no, but the weight of everything pressed down too hard. Words tumbled out before I could stop them.

“There was a woman,” I started, my voice shaking. “She came in here. She showed me… a photo of her and my boyfriend. Said she was his wife.”

The woman—Lily, according to her name tag—let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s… brutal. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my throat tight. “I live with him. I can’t face him. Not after this.”

Lily tilted her head, studying me for a moment. Then she straightened, a spark of determination in her eyes. “Alright, look. I was going to wait to bring this up, but screw it—come with me. Right now.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’m heading to Pittsburgh tonight. My family’s having a little get-together, and honestly, I wasn’t planning on staying long. But you?” She gestured at me. “You need out. Like, now. Pack whatever you can, and let’s go.”

It was insane. She was a stranger. I didn’t even know her last name. But the idea of walking back to Will, of pretending nothing had changed, made my stomach churn. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, my heart racing. “I don’t have much.”

“Even better,” Lily said with a grin. “Less to pack. Look, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but I know what it’s like to feel trapped. Sometimes, you just have to leap, you know?”

I hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. She was right. I couldn’t stay here.

“Okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Let me grab my things.”

Lily waited in the car while I rushed back to the apartment. The place felt different now—cold, unfamiliar, like it didn’t belong to me anymore. I grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed it with whatever clothes and essentials I could fit.

My gaze landed on the cellphone Will had given me. It sat on the nightstand, silent and ominous. I stared at it for a moment before picking it up, turning it off, and leaving it behind. I didn’t need it. I didn’t need him.

I called my doctors on the way out, telling them I was moving and promising to find care in Pittsburgh. They were reluctant but agreed as long as I kept up my progress. I promised I would.

By the time I got back to Lily’s car, my chest felt lighter, like I could finally breathe again. I shoved my bag into the backseat and climbed in beside her.

“You ready?” she asked, glancing at me with a reassuring smile.

I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

She started the car, and as we pulled out of the parking lot, I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. All I could do was focus on what lay ahead—the unknown, the terrifying, and maybe, just maybe, the chance to start over.

The hum of the car engine filled the silence as Lily steered us out of the city. The streetlights blurred together, casting fleeting shadows across the dashboard. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, my bag clutched tightly against me like a lifeline. Every nerve in my body was on edge, my thoughts spiraling into dark places I’d spent years trying to bury.

This is crazy.

I didn’t know this woman. I didn’t know where we were going, not really. What if she wasn’t who she seemed? What if this was all a trick? My stomach churned, my chest tightening with the kind of fear I hadn’t felt since… since the days I tried so hard to forget.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Lily was focused on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other fiddling with the radio. She hummed softly as she skipped through stations, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. She looked normal enough, but I knew better than to trust appearances. I’d learned that the hard way.

I shifted in my seat, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag. I couldn’t help but think back to when I was younger—back to when trust had cost me everything.

Back then, it had started like this: a friendly smile, a kind gesture, a promise of safety. But it was a lie. They’d sold me like I was nothing, just a commodity to be passed around. The memory made my skin crawl. Even after I’d escaped, even after I’d built a new life, the fear never really went away.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Lily said, breaking the silence. Her tone was light, but there was a hint of concern beneath it.

I forced a small smile, though my heart was racing. “Just… tired.”

She glanced at me briefly, her eyes sharp but kind. “Tired, huh? I get that. Long day?”

“You could say that.” My voice sounded distant, even to me.

Lily didn’t push. Instead, she turned her attention back to the road. For a while, neither of us spoke, and the silence stretched thin, heavy with my unease.

Then she surprised me.

“I know this might sound weird,” she began, her voice softer now, “but I get the sense you’ve been through a lot.”

My grip on the bag tightened. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess. You’ve got this look in your eyes—like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to.

Lily sighed, her tone still gentle but firm. “Look, I’m not here to hurt you, Lucky. I promise. I know you don’t know me, and I know this is all probably super overwhelming, but… I’m just trying to help. That’s all.”

Her words caught me off guard. She sounded so sincere, so genuine, that it made my chest ache. Part of me wanted to believe her, but the other part—the part that had been betrayed and broken too many times—wasn’t ready to let go of my suspicion.

“Why?” I asked quietly.

“Why what?”

“Why are you helping me? You don’t even know me.”

Lily glanced at me again, her expression thoughtful. “Because I’ve been where you are,” she said simply. “Maybe not exactly, but close enough to know what it feels like to want to run and not know where to go. And because… I don’t know. You seem like you need a friend. And I’m not exactly swimming in those myself.”

I blinked, taken aback by her honesty. It wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but it felt real.

For the first time since we got in the car, I felt my shoulders relax a fraction. I wasn’t ready to trust her completely—not yet—but something about her words chipped away at the walls I’d built around myself.

“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.