Chapter 67: All She Never Had
The Moreau family mansion.
That was where tonight’s Chapter starts, not with me, not with my apartment, not with school. No. This time it was her house. Her family. Her life.
Upstairs, Celestia had stormed into her room earlier, Duchess curling in her lap as she sat on the edge of her bed. She petted her, slow and quiet, and Duchess—loyal as ever—purred until she finally drifted off asleep in Celestia’s arms. But Celestia hadn’t slept. Not even close.
By the time she heard the faint clink of plates downstairs, her chest still felt tight. Dinner. She couldn’t skip it, not without hearing about it later. So she slid out of bed, careful not to wake the cat, and padded down the long hallway.
The dining room was as polished as always—too polished. The chandelier lit the table in a soft glow, but it only made the empty spaces feel emptier. Lucien’s chair was untouched, his place setting perfectly in order. Of course. He was never home.
It was just her and her parents this time.
Her mother sat tall, posture elegant, spooning soup into her bowl with perfect, measured movements. Her father, as usual, had his tablet propped against the side of his plate, scrolling with a single finger while pretending to pay attention.
Celestia slipped into her chair, the scrape of it against the floor sounding louder than it should have. A servant placed her plate in front of her—velouté of mushroom soup, a delicate garden salad, grilled sea bass with lemon butter, roasted baby potatoes, and steamed asparagus. She picked up her fork, but her stomach was already heavy.
The silence lasted only a moment before her father spoke.
"Valentina," he said, without looking up from his tablet. "We didn’t finish what we were talking about earlier."
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. Of course. She set it down.
"I thought we did."
Her mother’s eyes lifted, sharp and calm. "No, dear. Your father stopped the conversation. That’s not the same as ending it.""
Celestia’s jaw clenched. "What more do you want me to say? I told you. He’s my boyfriend."
Her father finally set his tablet aside, folding his hands neatly in front of him. His voice was steady, measured, but there was no warmth in it.
"And we’re telling you it’s not that simple."
Her fork tapped against the edge of her plate, restless. "It is that simple."
Her mother gave a small laugh, humorless and thin. "Don’t be childish. You’re too smart for that."
Something stung at the back of her eyes. She blinked it away, shaking her head.
"You don’t even know him. You’ve barely spoken to him."
Her father’s stare didn’t waver. "I know enough. Enough to know this won’t last."
That cut deeper than she wanted it to. Her chest squeezed, words rising before she could stop them.
"You don’t get to decide that. Not for me."
Her mother leaned back in her chair, voice smooth, polished like glass.
"We’re not deciding. We’re warning. You don’t always think things through, Valentina. You never have."
Celestia’s breath caught. Her hand curled tight around her fork.
"That’s not true."
"Isn’t it?" her father asked quietly.
Her appetite was gone. The food sat untouched in front of her, steam curling up and fading between them. She stared at it until her vision blurred, then shoved the plate away.
"I’m not doing this with you."
Her mother’s tone sharpened, though it never rose above that perfect, calm voice.
"You’re making a mistake."
Celestia pushed back her chair so hard the legs scraped against the floor. She shot to her feet, her pulse racing in her ears.
"Then let me."
And before either of them could say another word, she turned and stormed out of the dining room.
She didn’t look back.
---
Monday morning came quicker than I wanted.
The campus buzzed the way it always did, students dragging themselves in with coffee cups, gossip already flying through the air. I leaned against one of the stone pillars by the main walkway, Marina beside me, scrolling on her phone like she owned the place.
"Long weekend?" she asked without looking up.
"You could say that," I muttered.
She finally glanced at me, one brow raised. "Don’t look so dead, Kai. You’ve survived worse."
I gave her half a smile. "You sure about that?"
"Positive. You’re still breathing." She shrugged, lips twitching. "Which means she hasn’t killed you yet."
I was about to fire something back when the air shifted. The chatter around us dimmed for just a second, like the whole quad turned its head at once.
And there she was.
Celestia Valentina Moreau. Walking across the courtyard like the world existed purely to notice her. Hair catching the light, smile sharp and easy, every step confident—like the girl who stormed out of her dining room last night didn’t exist.
She spotted me instantly, and her grin curved into something softer, sweeter.
"Husband," she sang as she reached me, slipping her hand through mine like it had always belonged there.
"Morning to you too," I said, trying not to stare too long, not to wonder how she managed to shine this much on a Monday morning.
"Of course morning to me." She tilted her chin, smug. "Who else are you lucky enough to start the day with?"
I laughed. "Here we go."
"Don’t roll your eyes. Do you know how many people would sell their souls for this spot right here?" She tugged my arm closer to her, smiling like she had the world figured out. "My boyfriend’s the jackpot. And obviously, so am I."
"Obviously," I said.
She gasped, mock-offended. "That didn’t sound convincing at all. Marina, did you hear him?"
Marina smirked. "Loud and clear. Tragic."
Celestia swatted at me. "Tragic is right. Imagine not appreciating me first thing in the morning. Who does that?"
I caught her hand before she could pull away. "Guess I’m still waking up."
Her eyes lit, playful. "Guess I’ll have to fix that."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping just for me. "By the time we get to class, you’ll be begging me to stop talking."
"Like that’s new," I muttered, but I was smiling.
She laughed, bright and sharp, the sound cutting through the morning noise like it owned the air. Heads turned, like they always did. She tugged me along by the hand, chin tilted up, eyes sparkling in a way that dared anyone to say she wasn’t the center of everything.
It was her armor. The glitter, the glow, the queen-sized confidence she wore so well—it hid everything else. It always had.
To me, though, in that moment, it just looked like Celestia being Celestia. Unstoppable. Untouchable.
I had no idea how much she was carrying behind that smile.
---
The rest of the school day blurred by. Bells rang, teachers droned, students laughed in hallways, and it all passed like a film on fast-forward. Before I knew it, we were back at my place, the rhythm of "us" settling in again like it always did.
We ate first—leftovers, nothing special—and then sat down with books spread across the table. For a while, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that came easy between us, broken only by the scratch of a pen or the shuffle of a page.
Then I felt it. Her eyes.
I glanced up, and sure enough, Celestia was watching me, her chin resting in her palm, her hair slipping forward just a little. It wasn’t unusual for her to stare—she loved making me uncomfortable—but there was something different this time. Something in her gaze I couldn’t pin down.
"You lost or something?" I smirked, raising a brow. "Because I know I’m handsome, but staring’s still weird, Val."
She rolled her eyes instantly, lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Handsome? I was just wondering how someone could look so serious over math. Like, is this the hardest thing you’ve ever faced in life?"
"Harder than putting up with you," I shot back, grinning.
"Oh, please," she laughed, reaching over to poke my cheek. "You like it. You like me annoying you. It’s my love language."
I caught her hand before she could pull it back, and for a second she just let it sit there in mine. No teasing. No snark. Just her eyes, steady on mine again, until she blinked and the mask slipped back into place.
"You’re ridiculous," she muttered, pulling away with a small, crooked smile.
And just like that, we were back to normal. Talking, laughing, tossing jokes across the table like nothing in the world could touch us.
She stretched out on the floor beside me, humming under her breath while flipping through her notes, acting like the world was hers to command. To me, it always felt that way. She came here because she wanted to, because she liked spending time with me. That’s all I saw. That’s all I thought it was.
But it was more than that.
She didn’t go home because home had never been warm. Not really. When they were younger, Lucien had been her shield—teasing her, protecting her, filling the house with noise that almost felt like love. But somewhere along the way, he grew up and grew distant, too wrapped up in parties and his own world.
Now he was hardly ever around, and without him, the house was quiet again. Cold. Like whatever warmth he once gave her had gone with him.
I didn’t know that. I couldn’t.
All I saw was the brat who laughed too loud, teased too much, and clung to me like she had every right to.
I didn’t know I was the only place she could breathe.
I didn’t know that almost losing me had cut her deeper than she’d ever admit.
I didn’t know how much of herself she was holding together just to smile at me like nothing was wrong.
I didn’t know that all the love she never had—and the little Lucien once gave her—she was now searching for in me.
And I wasn’t going to—not yet. Because she wasn’t going to let me see.
Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
---
To be continued...