Can You Be My Luna

Chapter 9 THE PERFECT WIFE

The day Lucas’s parents arrived, the house changed.

Servants moved faster and straighter. Curtains were pulled wider to let in more light. Flowers appeared in vases I had never seen before.

And I was dressed like someone I didn’t recognize.

The dress Lucas had thrown at me the day before hung softly against my skin, pale blue and delicate, its fabric smooth beneath my trembling fingers. Aunt Locia helped me fasten it, her hands gentle, her eyes filled with quiet concern.

“You look beautiful,” she said softly. I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt like I was wearing a costume.

“What if I do something wrong?” I asked quietly. “What if they see through me?”

She brushed my hair back from my face. “You will be fine Silver, you are going to do great.”

Her words warmed me, but fear still coiled tightly in my chest. When Lucas came to collect me, he barely spared me a glance. “Remember,” he said coldly, “smile. Speak when spoken to. Don’t embarrass me.” I nodded.

His parents arrived shortly after. They were… different from what I expected. His mother was elegant, her movements controlled, her eyes sharp but observant. His father was quieter, his presence heavy and commanding without needing to raise his voice. When they looked at me, I felt exposed like they could see past the dress, past the smile I forced onto my lips.

“This must be Silver,” his mother said, her gaze sweeping over me. “You’re even more delicate than Lucas described.”

I smiled softly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lucas’s hand settled on my shoulder—firm and possessive. The touch made my skin crawl, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t.

Throughout the day, I played my role. I poured tea with steady hands. I laughed softly at the right moments. I kept my eyes lowered, my posture graceful and my voice gentle. Lucas played his part too—placing a hand on my back, speaking of me kindly, and lying with ease.

“You’ve made him very happy,” his mother said at one point, watching us closely.

Lucas squeezed my shoulder slightly, a silent warning. “I try,” I replied.

Her gaze lingered on me longer than I liked. There was something thoughtful there, something searching. For a terrifying moment, I wondered if she sensed the lie beneath the surface.

Dinner passed slowly. Vanessa was nowhere to be seen.

When night finally came, my body ached from the strain of pretending. My smile felt brittle. My head throbbed. All I wanted was to retreat to the servants’ room and collapse.

But I wasn’t allowed.

Lucas led me to his bedroom once his parents had retired. The room was large, cold, and unfamiliar. The bed sat at the centre. I hesitated at the doorway.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Lucas said sharply, removing his jacket.

I stepped inside slowly, my heart racing. I sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do, unsure of where I belonged. My exhaustion won out over fear for a moment, and I lay down carefully on the far edge, my back turned toward him.

The mattress was soft beneath me. I barely had time to close my eyes before his voice exploded through the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I flinched violently, sitting upright. “I—I thought—”

“Get off the bed,” he snapped, his eyes dark with anger. “Don’t ever assume you belong there.” My throat tightened. “Lucas, your parents—”

“They’re asleep,” he interrupted coldly. “This act ends when the door closes.”

Shame burned through me as I slid off the bed, my feet touching the cold floor. My hands shook as I gathered a thin blanket from the chair.

“You sleep on the floor,” he said. “That’s where you belong.” I nodded silently.

Lowering myself to the ground, I curled up near the foot of the bed, the floor hard and unforgiving beneath me. The blanket did little to shield me from the cold or the humiliation.

Lucas turned off the light without another word.

As darkness filled the room, tears slid silently down my temples, soaking into the floor. I pressed my face into my arm, biting my lip to keep from making a sound.

This was my marriage. A lie by day. A punishment by night.