His Rejected Luna

5.

“Absolutely,” I said, not wanting Abi to have to put up with him if he tried it on someone else.

We silently slipped out of the projection room before slinking down the steps. I frowned as we passed each row. We made it to the bottom and walked back up. I shook my head. “I don’t see him,” I whispered over my shoulder. “Maybe he left. That’s probably—”

Abi gasped, and I turned, sucking in a sharp breath when I realized Mr. Nix had practically materialized out of thin air right next to my friend. I stumbled backward, my shoulders hitting the wall while my eyes went wide.

“Ah… h-hello,” Abi whispered, clearly awestruck.

Yep. Definitely a celebrity, I decided. Abi knows about those sorts of things.

Somehow, Mr. Nix managed to look even more attractive than when the tour had started. Maybe it was the dim light or the play of the flickering blues and purples over his face as the projections played overhead and all around us. A quick glance told me we’d gotten to the section about the Northern Lights. He had no right to look so good, especially after he’d kissed me like that, but the man looked like he was practically a heavenly body himself. I was surprised Abi didn’t melt into a puddle of goo right then as he gave her the briefest of glances before his smoldering gaze fell back to me.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. That was unbecoming of me, especially at your place of work,” he murmured, his expression somber.

My brows shot up. “You didn’t seem sorry a few minutes ago,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice down. Something told me he wasn’t that sorry right now, either.

Mr. Nix shrugged one shoulder. “I had a lapse in judgment,” he said. For the briefest moment, he looked annoyed—at me or at himself?—but I blinked, and the calm, cool mask was back in place. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

My frown deepened. “It’s fine.”

“No, it wasn’t,” the man said, as if he could read my mind. “The very least I can do is buy you dinner.”

I snorted. “What makes you think I want to have dinner with you after that?”

He flashed a smile. I wasn’t sure if it was really much of a merry one. “Then, I will take you to any place you want, buy you dinner, and leave you in peace,” he said.

“Celeste would love to,” Abigail said suddenly.

I frowned, taken aback. Abi was as impulsive as I was meticulous, but we usually evened each other out. This, however, seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea.

“Celeste would not love to,” I argued, about to show him the small band on my ring finger.

But Abi snatched my hand and pulled it against her side before I could show off the small diamond. I tried to struggle but gave up, not wanting to draw the other tourists’ attention.

“It’s my last day,” I hissed, looking between them both. “And I wanted to go out for drinks with my friends.”

The man’s expression actually brightened, which infuriated me. “Perfect, then I will take you out for drinks, you and all your coworkers. My treat.”

I opened my mouth to insist that it wasn’t necessary—all I really wanted was for him to go away—but Abi squeezed my hand and nodded, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Really? That’s amazing. We’re taking her out to Bar 1903 after we close.”

Mr. Nix considered it for a beat. “How about Level 8 Lounge instead?”

Abi’s jaw dropped for a few moments before she could snap it back shut. “Are you serious? That place is… extremely expensive.”

The man hummed. “Extremely,” he confirmed. “Just as I am extremely apologetic about my poor behavior.” His gaze turned to me, but I just frowned.

I still shook my head, but Abi nodded. “If you insist,” she said, giggling. “We’ll see you after 9.”

Mr. Nix nodded. I ignored him for a moment, dragging my friend back toward the projection room so we didn’t disturb the other guests. “Abi.” I seethed. “What the hell? Did you even hear what I told you?”

Abi was still giggling. “Um, yeah. I did. And you said he stopped, and he apologized. Do you know how many guys have apologized to me? And he’ll buy all of us drinks?” She gave me a look like I was some kind of crazy when that was exactly how I felt about her right now. “Even if you never see him again, we should totally take him up on this. I love you, girl, but I cannot afford to treat you to a place like the Level 8 Lounge.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need something fa—Abi! Where are you going!?”

“I gotta tell Kevin our plans have changed.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “See you in a bit.”

I growled under my breath, but as she disappeared, I realized Mr. Nix was still standing a few feet away. I cleared my throat and folded my arms beneath my chest, trying to ignore the prickle of heat at the back of my neck again. It was like being in the man’s presence was literally electrifying. It was uncomfortable and exciting, but exciting in the same way standing next to a tall tree in the middle of a thunderstorm was.

“I’m engaged, you know,” I muttered, finally able to show my hand. My ring glinted in the low light.

“Ah,” Mr. Nix said. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, the amber looked more like the gold I’d expect to see from a wild wolf. I blinked and they were back to the same stunning shade of amber, but I couldn’t shake the little chill. It’s just a trick of the light.

The way he was looking at me, though… Something reminded me of those tall tales my old Aunt Esme used to tell me. I always admired her growing up. She was a pharmacist, having made her way through graduate school in a time when the field was largely dominated by men. She was a very practical woman ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent? Extremely superstitious. She never missed an opportunity to share her strange beliefs, either. Aunt Esme was a ‘black cats are bad luck’ and ‘breaking a mirror is seven years of bad luck’ type of superstitious, but she also believed that the paranormal was a very real thing. Vampires, werewolves, trickster fae, witches… all of it. When I was seventeen, she was convinced she’d accidentally offended a witch, even disappearing for over a year on a quest to remove the hex placed on her.

That was the thing with Aunt Esme. None of her stories had happy endings. They were always some sort of cautionary tale, and until she’d actually run off over a hex, I’d assumed they were just lessons dressed as fables. But she’d believed in them more than I ever realized. I never could, but her soul-searching quest had shaken up things for me.

Right now, that foundation felt shakier than ever.

Something about this guy was spooky, and not just because he’d been way too forward. He almost felt unreal. I assumed it was because he was famous, but Abi hadn’t mentioned any TV shows or music charts. I was starting to think that wasn’t it, so… why? What was it I just couldn’t place about Mr. Nix?

I gave myself a little shake. “I have to get back to work,” I finally said, glancing back at him. Our eyes met again, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. My throat felt tight, and anxiety came surging up out of nowhere. I gathered enough resolve to turn away, but I caught his last look at me, staring as though I’d just struck him. A shiver ran through me, and I reached for the door to the projection room. I just needed some time to myself.

This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

“You shouldn’t keep teasing me,” he rumbled.

“What?” I jerked around.

“If you don’t want me to act on those things, you should stop showing them to me.”

I took in a sharp breath. Yep. Definitely something off about this guy. What might have been a single red flag flapping just morphed into ten bright red lights, all screaming warning sirens.

“I don’t know what they hell you’re talking about,” I growled back. “Buy my friends all the drinks you want, but I’m not going.”

I didn’t give him the chance to respond, whipping the door to the projection room open and slamming it behind me. It probably ruined the scene a bit for the other patrons, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, staring at the ceiling.

What the actual hell is going on?!

Closing time rolled around, and I wasn’t feeling much better at all. Even though the farewell drinks had initially been my idea, I wanted little more than to go home, open a bottle of wine, and soak in the bath.

“But it’s your last day,” Abigail insisted, standing between me and the door.

Even Kevin looked disappointed. He was always a bit emotional, but the middle-aged man actually looked close to tears. “You’ve been one of my best employees, Celeste,” he said, his voice much quieter than Abi’s. “I was really looking forward to this. Well, not you leaving, but… you know. Being able to wish you well on your next adventure and all that.” At this, he began worrying his hands.

I regretted glancing over at him. Telling him “no” felt like kicking a puppy. A sad, lonely, starving one ripped away from its mother. The kind of puppy with the biggest, warmest brown eyes that even a soulless villain could love. I was none of those things, so I didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay,” I said, not able to look at the other co-workers who’d gathered for the outing.

“Drinks are on Mr. Nix!” Abi crowed happily, looping our arms together as she marched us out the door. It was not a long walk by any stretch, but every time I tried to drag my feet, Abi just hurried me along.

As soon as we got to the lounge, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed my fiancé’s number.

“Hey!” I said, almost breathless with relief when he picked up after the third ring. I just needed something normal right now. I could count on Ben for that. “Ben, hi.”

“Hey, Celeste,” he replied. He sounded a bit sleepy, but I could hear the muffled sound of a keyboard in the background. Is he still working? It’s kind of late for that.

“So, Abigail and some of the others want to go out for drinks tonight after work to celebrate. Why don’t you come join us?”

“That’s okay.” More typing. I waited, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I’d really appreciate it if you came,” I said, worrying my lower lip. If my fiancé was actually present, Mr. Nix would have no choice but to bother someone else, and I’d have no reason to look for him.

Yeah, that makes sense.

“You know how much I like working at the learning center, and I know bars aren’t really your scene, so I’ll make it up to you, however you want. You just say the word, and—”

“Sorry, Cici,” Ben said. I wrinkled my nose. That was a nickname I’d liked in childhood, but these days, it felt more like a shackle. I didn’t feel like a Cici anymore, and I certainly didn’t want to hear my fiancé use the name my parents had when I was a little girl. “I’m really busy,” he continued, still sounding distant. “I just don’t feel like it. You don’t need to make anything up to me.”

My face fell. “But, babe…” I knew going out for drinks wasn’t really his thing, but going to his shows on weekends wasn’t mine, either. I did it because I cared about him…

Apparently that didn’t register with Ben. “Just have a good time with Abi and the others, okay?” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

My heart dropped into my stomach as I stared at my phone, but he didn’t say anything else. All I heard was the background noise before I put the phone back to my ear.

“Maybe I don’t want to see you later,” I said, starting to feel awful. Even my chest hurt. Don’t cry! My eyes were starting to sting, too. Why doesn’t he care that I’m upset? Why wouldn’t he want to celebrate this with me? I’m leaving because of our wedding.

“Okay,” Ben said, sounding unconcerned. “Then, I’ll see you for the rehearsal dinner.”

The petty irritation now erupted into a hot roar of anger. “Do you even want to marry me?” I snapped. “Why are we even engaged if you don’t want to spend time with me? I feel like I’m just a burden to you or something.”

It felt like no matter what I tried, he wasn’t excited. It didn’t matter if it was his hobby or his suggestion or his place, it was same old, same old, and if I asked? I felt like it always went like this. Like I was some great burden to him, and I always ended up feeling guilty for it. When he proposed, I thought maybe, just maybe that would breathe a spark of romance back into our relationship. That I’d been reading into things all wrong, and Ben was just speaking a different love language.

Oh, how wrong I’d been.

The engagement hadn’t changed anything.

“Cici…”

“Are you cheating on me?” I blurted out. I felt like I had no control of my mouth, and I hated that. I hated myself, too, for saying the words the moment they left my lips, but I couldn’t take them back. It had never crossed my mind before, but… I just couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t excited—more interested. Why I couldn’t get him to care about me. Maybe I’m not the only woman in his life…

The sound of typing finally stopped, and Ben sighed. “I’m not cheating on you,” he said softly. “There’s a lot going on at my job, and we have all the wedding stuff. I need to focus, and you’re being more high maintenance than usual, which is just…” He trailed off, sighing again.

I blinked. “Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “I’m being high maintenance?” I had to have heard that wrong.

“Yeah,” Ben said. The sound of typing resumed. “Like this. Right now. I don’t want to go out to drink, and you’re overreacting about it.”

“But you never want to go out with me. Not on a Friday night, not after a show, not for my birthday, not for our anniversary—nothing!” We rarely saw each other out of prearranged meetings. “I go to every one of your shows whenever I can. I let you pick the movies because you have pretty obscure taste. You always pick where we eat.”

“That’s because you don’t care much about cinema, and you’ll eat anything. You’re not picky.”

Do you even know me at all, Ben?

I inhaled sharply. “What. The hell? I do those things because I care about you, not because I’ll ‘eat anything’. My favorite type of food is Mexican, did you know that? The real stuff you can get from the families who’re cooking their grandmother’s recipes, not the fake s**t you get at fast food places,” I snapped. “We never get Mexican because spicy food upsets your stomach and I don’t complain about it because I don’t want you to have to suffer on my account, not because I’ll eat anything.”

I knew Ben wasn’t the most involved guy, but did he really know so little about me? Is Abi actually right about him?

I thought she just found him boring because Abi’s type of guy rode a motorcycle or looked like he’d make your grandmother faint when you brought him home for dinner. Ben was, by comparison, pretty tame. He was a regular person, but I had liked that about him. I didn’t need flashy or impressive. I liked steady and reliable.

I thought I did, anyway. I didn’t think I was getting reliably disinterested.

“Cici, calm down,” Ben said, still so distant. “You’re—”

“No,” I said, feeling a sudden sense of calm. Clarity. Like someone had splashed me with cold water. “Don’t talk down to me like that, Ben. We’re supposed to be partners, and you’re treating me like someone you need to maintain. But you don’t need to worry about that anymore, okay? The wedding is off. I want a partner, not a handler, and I think you need someone more your speed, too.” I took a deep breath. “Good night, Ben.”

I hung up, not wanting to hear any other patronizing phrases: calm down or think this through. I’d been thinking about it for weeks. Months, even. I’d been giving Ben chance after chance. I’d been defending his distance, explaining away his lackadaisical approach when it came to me or our relationship, but I couldn’t do that forever.

I didn’t want to do that forever.

I took a deep breath and put my phone back in my purse. There’s no use crying now, Celeste. I wasn’t sure if I even felt all that sad, as much as I just felt… disappointed. Let down. This man was supposed to love me more than anyone else in the world, but he couldn’t be bothered to show up at my going away party, much less fight for what I needed when I was upset. Ben had always been a rational sort, but this?

I shook my head and wiped my face, pausing in front of the mirror just long enough to make sure my ponytail was still organized, and my shirt was unwrinkled. Going out after had always been the plan, so I’d packed a cute outfit: dark, slim-cut jeans and a maroon top. This morning, I thought it looked quite stunning. Right now, all I could see was a woman who didn’t want to be here staring back at me. That wasn’t what I wanted at all.

I took another deep breath, brushed my shirt off one more time, and left the washroom to rejoin my coworkers.

Ben will realize he was being a jerk, I told myself, nodding.

This wasn’t the first fight we’d had, though it was easily the most intense.

He’ll come around. Nothing weird is going on. Mr. Nix is just grating on you because it’s your last day, and you wanted it to be perfect.

It was silly of me, really. I didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters, I didn’t believe in romance, and I didn’t believe in ‘perfect days’. I didn’t believe in curses or hexes or black cats being witch’s familiars, either.

My reflection still stared back at me. I reached up, idly touching one of my silver earrings. If there was ever a day to be tempted to believe in curses, it might be today.

What the hell. When it rains, it pours, right? Maybe I should give this Mr. Nix guy a chance.

I’d just met him, and he was taking the whole staff out for drinks. He’d already met more of my coworkers than Ben had over the years of our relationship.

What’s the worst that could happen?