Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian)

Killian's POV

I walked into my office, the door closing with a soft thud behind me, and for a moment, I just stood there in the silence.

The conversation I'd just had with Astrid echoed in my head like a storm that wouldn't settle.

It was as if the weight I'd been carrying for years had finally been lifted off my shoulders, but in its place

was something else a heaviness that sank deeper into my chest, pressing down like a weight I couldn't escape.

I had told her. After all this time, I had finally told her the truth.

The truth I'd buried for years, the one I thought would protect her. The truth that I never loved Giselle-not

in the way a man should love his wife. That everything I did, I did for my son.

I had tried to be a good father, to keep the family intact for him, even though every day felt like I was living a lie.

Astrid finally knew that now.

She knew why I had kept my distance, why I had pushed her away, why I had tried to convince myself that leaving her behind was the right thing.

I thought that by telling her, I'd feel some kind of relief. And in a way, I did. But it wasn't the kind of relief I'd hoped for. It was more like a release from a prison I'd built for myself, only to realize I'd been dragging her into that same prison all along.

I sank into the chair behind my desk, running a hand through my hair. The office felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in on me.

I had told her, and now she knew the truth. The truth that I had kept from her, hoping she could live a life free of me, free of the mistakes I made. But it hadn't worked, had it?

She still couldn't forget me, just like how I still couldn't forget her. Even after all these years. Even after everything that happened between us.

God, I hated myself for that.

Astrid had lived a miserable life when she was married to me. I was a bad husband. No, I was worse than that. I was unloving, selfish. I had convinced myself that I was doing the best I could, but deep down, I knew it wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough. And when Giselle came into the picture - when she got pregnant - I told myself that walking away from Astrid was the right thing to do. That by building a family with Giselle, I was being the man my son needed me to be.

But what kind of man did that make me? I couldn't even remember how it had happened - how I had ended up in a marriage that felt like a prison, with a child I loved but a life I resented.

I didn't deserve Astrid. Not after everything. I never did.

And yet, when she looked at me today, I saw it in her eyes-she still had feelings for me.

She was still in love with me, after all the pain caused her. After all the times let her down, left her in the dark refused to give her what she needed.

How could she still care for me after everything I'd put her through? How could she still look at me like I was someone worth holding on to?

It made the guilt claw at me, deep and relentless. I didn't deserve her love. I had never deserved it.

I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, the weight of it all crushing me from the inside out.

I had ruined her. I had broken her, piece by piece, and all the while, I had told myself that it was for her own good.

That by pushing her away, I was giving her a chance at happiness-a chance to build a life without me dragging her down.

But she hadn't been happy, had she?

And now I could see the truth in her eyes, the same truth I had been running from all these years. I had done this. I had made her miserable. I had kept her stuck, just like was stuck.

I had been so sure that by staying, with Giselle, by doing my duty as a father, I'll also be paying back what I oweto Astrid for being an unloving husband.

I thought I was making the right choice. But now... now I couldn't help but wonder if I had only made things worse. For everyone.

Everything did. Astrid was still in love with me, and instead of feeling any kind of satisfaction or hope just as I thought I would, I felt nothing but shame.

Shame for the way I had treated her, for the lies I had told myself to justify it, for the fact that she still had any kind of feelings for me at all.

I wanted to go back, to undo everything. To give her the life she deserved the one without me in it. But that wasn't possible, was it?

The damage had already been done. And no matter how much I wished otherwise, I couldn't change the past.

All I could do was live with the regret. With the knowledge that I had broken the one person who had ever truly cared for me.

And now, even though I had finally told her the truth, I knew it was too late.

I wasn't the man she needed. I wasn't the man she deserved. I never had been.

And now, it felt like I never would be.