For three seconds, I simply stared at Sebastian.
Then I looked at Luna.
Then back at him.
Of all the things I had imagined saying if we ever met again, I had never prepared for:
“No, Sebastian. The four-year-old calling me Mommy is not your secret daughter.”
His grip on my wrist loosened slightly.
“What?”
“She isn’t yours.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Clara, don’t lie to me.”
I almost laughed.
“You’ve been standing here for thirty seconds and you’ve already accused me of hiding a child from you for four years.”
Luna frowned at him.
“Uncle, don’t yell at Mommy.”
Sebastian’s expression cracked again.
Jason Zhang, who had been watching the entire disaster from several steps away, quietly excused himself.
Coward.
Smart coward.
Sebastian crouched in front of Luna.
“How old are you?”
She proudly raised four fingers.
“Four.”
“When is your birthday?”
I immediately understood what he was calculating.
“Sebastian.”
He ignored me.
Luna answered.
“March twelve.”
His face became even colder.
Four years ago.
Close enough to make his ridiculous theory mathematically possible.
He stood.
“You disappeared after graduation.”
“I returned home.”
“You never contacted me.”
“We broke up.”
“And then four years later I find you with a four-year-old daughter?”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“You expect me not to question that?”
I crossed my arms.
“No. I expect the smartest man in our class to understand that women are capable of having children who aren’t biologically theirs.”
He froze.
I pointed toward Luna.
“She’s my niece.”
Silence.
“My older sister’s daughter.”
Sebastian stopped breathing for a moment.
“My sister and brother-in-law died in an accident shortly after graduation.”
All the anger disappeared from his face.
I continued.
“She was three months old. I became her legal guardian.”
Luna looked up.
“My first mommy is in heaven.”
Sebastian’s face went pale.
Then she added cheerfully:
“But Aunt Clara is Mommy outside because it scares away annoying uncles.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course she said that.
Sebastian looked at me.
“Annoying uncles?”
“Long story.”
Luna pointed at him.
“Are you one?”
For the first time, I saw Sebastian Fu completely defeated by a preschooler.
“I… don’t know.”
She studied him seriously.
“You look like one.”
I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
Sebastian glared at me.
And somehow, for half a second, we were twenty-two again.
Then reality returned.
His expression changed.
“Your sister died?”
“Yes.”
“You went through all that…”
He stopped.
There was something almost painful in his eyes.
“You never told me.”
I looked at him calmly.
“Why would I?”
The question hit him harder than I intended.
“You told me you were tired of playing.”
His lips parted.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
“I was angry.”
“So was I.”
“Because you thought I had a fiancée.”
My entire body stiffened.
Thought?
I looked directly at him.
“You did.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
I laughed without humor.
“Please don’t insult me four years later.”
“I’m not.”
“You had a woman chosen by your family.”
“Yes.”
“Your parents called her your future wife.”
“Yes.”
“She came back from abroad after graduation specifically to discuss your marriage.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“And somehow that doesn’t qualify as having a fiancée?”
Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair.
“Because I had already refused.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
“I refused before graduation.”
For the first time since he approached us, he looked genuinely frustrated rather than angry.
“My grandfather and her family arranged it when we were teenagers. I never agreed.”
I said nothing.
“I was going to tell you after graduation because I had already confronted my family.”
“Why not before?”
“Because I knew exactly what you would do.”
My chest tightened.
“And what is that?”
“Leave.”
Silence.
He gave a bitter laugh.
“Apparently, I was right.”
That angered me.
“You hid something that enormous because you were afraid I would leave, and now you’re blaming me for leaving when I discovered it myself?”
His face changed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“You made the decision for me, Sebastian.”
He didn’t answer.
“You decided I didn’t deserve the truth until you had solved everything neatly enough to present it.”
My voice became quieter.
“That isn’t trust.”
Luna looked between us.
Then whispered:
“Mommy, did this uncle make you sad?”
I looked down at her.
“A long time ago.”
She considered that carefully.
Then she turned toward Sebastian.
“You should say sorry.”
Sebastian actually obeyed.
“I’m sorry.”
I blinked.
Luna nodded approvingly.
“Good.”
Then she returned to her dessert.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
That evening, Sebastian found me near the hot springs garden.
Luna was asleep in our room.
I didn’t ask how he knew where I was.
Men like Sebastian always found information when they wanted it badly enough.
He stood beside me without speaking.
Finally, he said:
“I went to your city.”
I turned.
“When?”
“Three months after graduation.”
My fingers tightened around the railing.
“Why?”
“To find you.”
“What happened?”
“I went to your old address. The apartment was empty.”
We had moved after my sister’s accident because my mother couldn’t bear living near the hospital.
“I called.”
“I changed my number.”
“I emailed.”
“I stopped using that account.”
His mouth twisted.
“I thought you hated me that much.”
“At the time, I probably did.”
He nodded.
Then he asked:
“Did you ever find out what happened with the engagement?”
“No.”
“I broke with my family over it.”
I looked at him.
“For almost two years, my father and I barely spoke.”
That surprised me.
“The marriage arrangement was canceled.”
“And the woman?”
“She married someone else three years ago.”
He laughed quietly.
“She invited me.”
I couldn’t help it.
I laughed too.
For a moment, the weight between us loosened.
Then Sebastian looked at me.
“I never married.”
My smile faded.
“That’s not my responsibility.”
“I know.”
“Don’t turn four years of your choices into proof that I owe you something.”
“I’m not.”
This Sebastian was different.
The twenty-two-year-old version would already have become defensive.
The man beside me simply nodded.
“I only wanted you to know.”
For the next week, Sebastian did not ask me to return to him.
Instead, somehow, he became Luna’s favorite entertainment.
She ordered him to carry her inflatable unicorn.
He did.
She demanded he learn how to braid doll hair.
He watched a tutorial.
She asked if rich uncles could buy strawberry ice cream.
He bought strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla.
I confiscated two.
On our final afternoon, Luna whispered loudly:
“I don’t think he’s an annoying uncle anymore.”
Sebastian looked absurdly pleased.
“Congratulations,” I told him. “You’ve passed an extremely difficult evaluation.”
Then Luna asked the question neither of us was prepared for.
“Can he be my daddy?”
I nearly dropped my coffee.
Sebastian choked.
“Luna.”
“What?”
“That isn’t how fathers work.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing useful came out.
Sebastian crouched beside her.
“Your mommy and I are still learning how to be friends again.”
Luna thought about that.
“Then learn faster.”
And ran away.
I stared after her.
Sebastian laughed.
This time, I joined him.
We did not get back together that week.
Or the next month.
I wouldn’t erase four years simply because the original betrayal had been more complicated than I believed.
He had still hidden the truth.
I had still walked away without demanding an explanation.
We had both been young, proud, and painfully certain the other person should understand without being told.
So we started somewhere smaller.
Coffee.
Messages.
Occasional visits.
Honest conversations.
Sebastian met my parents.
He visited my sister’s grave with me and stood there silently while Luna placed flowers beside her parents.
A year later, he asked me something unexpected.
Not:
“Will you marry me?”
He asked:
“Do you trust me enough to build something again?”
I thought about it for a long time.
Then answered:
“Not completely.”
He smiled.
“That’s fair.”
“But more than last year.”
“I’ll take it.”
Two years after our reunion, Luna stood between us at a small garden wedding wearing a crooked flower crown.
When the officiant asked whether anyone objected, she raised her hand.
Everyone froze.
I stared at her.
“Luna?”
She announced:
“I object because nobody asked me first.”
The entire garden burst into laughter.
Sebastian crouched down.
“Then may I marry your mom?”
She pretended to think.
Finally:
“Yes.”
Then she pointed at him.
“But don’t make her sad again.”
Sebastian looked at me.
His expression softened.
“I won’t.”
I squeezed his hand.
“No promises you can’t guarantee.”
He understood immediately.
So he corrected himself.
“Then I promise I’ll tell you the truth even when I’m afraid of what you’ll do with it.”
That was better.
Because four years earlier, neither of us had lost each other because another woman had truly stood between us.
We lost each other because of silence.
He hid the truth because he feared I would leave.
I discovered half the truth and left because I feared staying would humiliate me.
Years later, Sebastian saw a little girl call me “Mommy” and made another ridiculous assumption.
But this time, we did something our younger selves had failed to do.
We stayed long enough to ask what was actually true.
