Luna Lucky

7

As we reached the rooftop, the soft glow of candlelight greeted me again, illuminating the same rose petals and delicate decorations as before. In the center, a small radio played soft music, the melody floating on the cool night air. My heart fluttered, a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside me.

Will led me to the middle of the rooftop, his hand warm and steady around mine. The way he looked at me made my breath catch—like I was the only person in the world.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “am I going to get Lucky to dance with me?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, he stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with humor and tenderness. “Will you do me the honor of having this dance?”

This time, I managed to find my voice. “You’d make me the luckiest girl.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, before taking my hand and guiding me into a graceful step. As the music shifted to a slower song, he wrapped an arm gently around my waist and began to move.

To my surprise, he danced with an elegance that left me speechless. His steps were fluid, his movements confident, as though he’d been born to dance. I followed his lead, letting him guide me across the rooftop, the world around us fading into the background.

As we danced, his words came like whispers of a dream, each one wrapping around my heart.

“My soul and your soul,” he murmured, his mismatched eyes locking with mine, “are forever tangled.”

A shiver ran through me, but it wasn’t from the cold. It was the way he said it, like it was an undeniable truth.

“You are my forever and always,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of my hand as we twirled. “In your arms, I find my peace and solace.”

I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t stop the warmth blooming in my chest. “Will,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.

He leaned in closer, his voice a gentle hum against my ear. “You light up my world like nobody else.”

I felt tears sting my eyes at the sincerity in his voice. How could anyone make me feel so wanted, so safe, and so completely his with just a few words?

As the final notes of the song played, Will dipped me low, his arm strong and steady behind me. My heart raced as he held me there for a moment, his eyes searching mine, before he leaned in and kissed me.

The kiss was deep, passionate, and filled with everything he couldn’t say aloud. It left me breathless when he finally pulled me back up.

I gazed at him, my cheeks warm, my heart full. “What is all this for?” I asked, my voice soft with wonder.

Will smiled, the kind of smile that sent butterflies racing through my stomach. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

He dropped to one knee, holding the box up to me as he opened it to reveal a delicate, sparkling ring.

“Lucky,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotion shining in his eyes. “From the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’re my heart, my home, and the reason I believe in forever. I promise to stand by you, to love you fiercely, to cherish every moment we have together.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “You make me a better man, Lucky. And if you’ll let me, I want to spend every day proving that to you. So, will you make me the luckiest man alive? Will you marry me?”

A gasp escaped my lips, my hands flying to cover my mouth. Tears spilled down my cheeks, but they weren’t from fear or sadness. They were from joy—pure, overwhelming joy.

“Yes,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaking. Then louder, surer: “Yes, Will. I’ll marry you.”

His smile lit up the night as he slid the ring onto my finger. He stood, pulling me into his arms and spinning me around. When he set me down, his lips found mine again, and in that moment, I knew.

I was home.

Will and I had slept in peace the night before, and for the first time in years, I felt like a fairy tale was unfolding in my life. Every step we took together seemed better than the last, filling me with a sense of hope I hadn’t thought possible.

I carried that feeling with me to work, a warm glow in my chest as I rang up customers and restocked shelves. But the peace didn’t last.

The bell above the door jingled, and a woman entered the store. She immediately drew everyone’s attention, her presence commanding in a way that seemed almost unnatural.

She was stunning, her light brown hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room like she owned it. Her elegant outfit—a tailored coat over a form-fitting dress—stood out sharply against the casual atmosphere of the store. She didn’t belong here, yet she strode in with purpose, her long legs making a statement with every step.

I couldn’t help but stare, momentarily caught off guard by her beauty and confidence. But as her gaze locked onto mine, her expression shifted into something sharper, colder—annoyance, perhaps even disdain.

She approached the counter, and her voice, warm yet commanding, cut through the low hum of the store.

“Excuse me, but is William around?”

Her question hit me like a splash of cold water. William? My heart stuttered, and I answered a little too quickly, the words tumbling out before I could think.

“Nobody by that name works here.”

I tried to focus on the customers lining up behind her, their groceries waiting to be scanned, but she didn’t move. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph, sliding it across the counter toward me.

I froze.

The image showed her in a wedding dress, breathtakingly beautiful, with Will standing beside her in a formal military uniform. They looked perfect together, like something out of a magazine.

The air left my lungs as she spoke again, her tone firm and unyielding.

“If you see this man,” she said, tapping the photo, “tell him we all miss him back home. And if he doesn’t come back on his own, we’ll send the royal guards next time.”

Royal guards?

Her words hit me harder than the photograph had. My mind raced, trying to piece together what she was saying. Will… royalty? It didn’t make sense.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely audible as I managed to stammer, “Royal guards?”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “Surely he’s told you where he’s from. Or did he decide to leave that part out?”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. My cheeks burned, and I tried to find something—anything—to say, but nothing came out.

The customers behind her began to shift impatiently, and I forced myself to look away from the photo, fumbling to scan their items. My hands shook as I worked, my thoughts spiraling.

Who was this woman? Why was Will in that photograph with her? And more importantly, why had he never mentioned anything about royalty—or her—to me?

When I finally looked up again, she was gone, the photo still sitting on the counter like a ghost of the truth I wasn’t ready to face.

I stared at it, my heart pounding in my chest. The perfect couple stared back at me, their smiles frozen in time.

Questions flooded my mind, but one stood out above all the others:

Who is Will, really?