Chapter 59

Renee’s POV

The next morning is Saturday. Usually, weekends are slow to start and evolve into some kind of fun activity the three of us agree on to be enjoyable. Though with the steady gray days and bitter cold, mostly weekends have become just lazy.

Though today is different. The sun peaks through the blinds filling the bedroom with an early morning golden glow promising warmth, and I just so happen to be working.

After dinner with Jasper, I was still buzzing with motivation and we went ahead and got started on creating the preliminary basics for launching a business.

The website is up and running, I’ve met with contractors to get all the proper licensing, and today I meet with clients to get some cash flowing so I can continue to meet with brand managers, advertisers, and warehouses for my fabrics.

Annie’s Apparel is making strides.

I decided to use my true legal name to make it known I am more than just Eric’s wife, this business is mine all mine.

My typical slow movements on Saturdays have been rejuvenated with a sense of excitement. I’ve been awake for an hour already just waiting for the sun to rise, so when it does I waste no time getting out of bed, throwing on a robe and trying to sneak out of the bedroom without waking Eric.

Though no sooner after I reach the knob, I hear him stir in bed.

“What are you doing?” He asks groggily. His sleepy voice is incredibly sexy. Damn him.

“Making coffee,” I tell him. It’s not technically a lie, it just isn’t the whole story. The answer must be satisfying enough because Eric grumbles something and rolls back over to bed.

I move swiftly and silently throughout the kitchen, savoring the silence of being alone. I don’t have to focus on anyone, but my work.

My first potential client I’m meeting with runs an upscale boutique in the center city. She has over a million followers on all her social media accounts. If she likes my clothes, that’ll be a foot in the door to many more potential buyers.

Traffic is light, and I zip down the highway easily, making it outside my client's boutique fifteen minutes early. The boutique is cute. It’s a small brick building with a soft pink door and three thin white rectangular windows, which allow me to peer inside and see the chic clothing.

Though I don’t want to appear too eager, or desperate- so I go across the street to a hipster café. The tiled floors are coated with mismatched rugs that have seen better days, plants line the apricot-colored walls, and somewhere light jazz is playing.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greets me before I even fully step inside. There’s only one other customer waiting in line, I get the idea that they’ve just recently opened.

“Good morning,” a young man in a green beanie greets me from behind the counter. I smile at him.

“Yes, it is,” I agree. I go up to the counter and place my order for a tall black coffee- like a true businesswoman.

As the barista goes to make pour my coffee in their 100% recyclable cups, I glance at the rack of business cards in front of me.

I fish through my purse and take out my own stack. “Do you mind if I leave these here?” I ask.

The barista looks over his shoulder at the stack of cars in my hand. “Go for it,” He says.

While he isn’t looking I move a realtors stack of cards out of the way and place mine there instead, right in the center. He comes back and hands me my coffee. I take it and once his hands are free he picks up one of my cards that I just placed.

He looks down at the card and an expression I can’t quite make out crosses his face. For a second I think he’s going to tell me I can’t take someone else spot on the rack, but then he looks up at me and then back down at the card.

It’s like the wires in his brain are trying to spark, then suddenly- the lightbulb goes off.

“Annie’s Apparel,” He says testing the name out. “You’re that Luna who faked her own death to get away from her husband,” His eyes go wide and I feel the color drain from my face. “Can I have your autograph?” He asks, unable to get the words to spill out fast enough.

“I’m trying not to have that association,” I attempt to explain. The barista, who’s nametag I see says his name is Sean pulls back in bewilderment.

“Why? You’re a legend,” He exclaims. Now, I’m the one who’s bewildered. I look at him crossways. He laughs. “You really don’t think so?” I’m not sure how to answer, so I shrug.

“If you make your clothing based off of your story, I think you’ll sell millions,” He says.

I leave the coffee shop wondering if I should have even gone inside in the first place. The whole point of me opening my business was to have something completely of my own, not affiliated with Eric at all.

But, if this random stranger recognizes me regardless as the Luna who left then maybe I should own that and brand it as something to sell.

Ideas start swarming in my head. It could be a testimony to other women out there who feel trapped inside relationships.

But is that really how I feel? Legally speaking, I am stuck in this relationship. Emotionally, it’s a lot more complicated.

But, even still, perhaps my clothing could mean something to other women who are physically and emotionally stuck in relationships. Would that be so bad?

I glance at my phone. My meeting is in five minutes which means I need to make a decision, now.

By the time I finally get home, the sun is setting. I’ve ignored every call and text Eric sent my way throughout the day asking when I’d be back, only responding to Debbie’s questions.

“Mommy’s home!” Debbie shouts as her footsteps come running towards the front door, Eric appearing behind her moments later. “Look what daddy showed me!” Debbie says.

She throws her head back and lets out a perfectly-pitched howl. It’s a howl I know all to well, it’s the calling for our pack. “So, if I ever get lost, or kidnapped again, I can just do that call and you and daddy will come running,” She explains excitedly.

“Oh,” is all I can manage to say. Debbie gives me a frown and I know it’s because my reaction was not enthusiastic enough. “Sorry, Debbie. Mommy is just tired,”

“That’s because she’s been gone all day,” Eric retorts and I snap him a look.

“Ugh,” Debbie groans and turns to walk away. “I’m going to practice my hunting,” Debbie calls out and I raise my eyebrows at Eric. He shrugs.

“Might as well start her young,” he says and I roll my eyes because Debbie learning to hunt squirrels in our backyard is the least of my worries. Right now, I have to explain to Eric why I’m late.

“I was working,” I tell him. Eric leans against the entryway arch, crossing his ankles.

“All day?” He asks suspiciously and what he’s insinuating infuriates me.

“Yes,” I growl. “I actually made a sudden change to my brand,” I tell him hoping that if I can make it sound like it’s no big deal, then maybe it won’t be. Eric nods.

“What is it?” He asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat, Eric narrows his eyes at me, picking up on my nerves. “What is it?” he asks again more slowly.

I explain to him the concept of my new business name, the Loner Luna.

“Is that how you feel?” He asks, even-toned. It’s a question I’ve been asking myself all day, one I have yet to answer. When I fail to respond, Eric shakes his head and walks upstairs.

The further away he gets from me, the more I begin to feel what it would be like if Eric does decide to walk away from me forever- and I hate it.