Aria sat outside Luna's school for twenty minutes before she felt confident enough to go into the school to get her. The argument with Xavier had left her feeling raw, with her defenses completely stripped bare and feeling useless against five years of secrets being systematically taken apart.
She looked at herself in the rearview mirror, checking to see if it showed anything of the evening's destruction. Luna would see right through her, as her daughter had an innate ability to sense when something was off; she would be completely vulnerable, and would find it impossible to hide how she was feeling.
"Just another day," she whispered beneath her breath as she carefully applied fresh lipstick, even if her hands were trembling. "Nothing has changed for Luna. Not yet."
But everything had changed. And they both knew it.
When Luna walked out of her classroom, beaming with the enthusiasm that only a kindergarten could bring, she jogged toward Aria and hugged her with the enthusiasm only a daughter can possess, and which never failed to constrict something in Aria's heart.
"Mom! We learned about butterflies today, and Mrs. Chen said butterflies completely change their bodies, and the transform, but it's the same butterfly inside!"
The sentence of what she observed was so innocent, it felt like a knife twist. Never did Luna guess that her little world was going to be going through her own metamorphosis.
"That's very interesting, baby," Aria managed to say, taking Luna's little hand as they walked toward the car. "What else did you learn?"
As Luna continued talking about butterflies and transformation, Aria studied her daughter from an entirely different prospective. It wasn't just that they shared the same gray eyes as Xavier, it was the determined expression on her small jaws, the way she expressed herself when explaining something that was important to her, and the intensity she focused on those things in life that captured her interest.
How had she been able to convince herself for five years that these similarities wouldn't become apparent to anyone who really knew Xavier?
"Mama, you seem quiet today," Luna noted in the car to her as they were driving home. "Are you thinking about work?"
"Something like that," Aria said, which technically was true. Xavier coming back into their lives would affect her work, her planning and everything she built.
"Is it about the man with the gray eyes like mine?"
Aria barely veered into the next lane. "What?"
Luna explained, in a matter-of-fact manner, "You always get super quiet when you're thinking about the guy with gray eyes. The one in the pictures you don't show me and keep in your desk."
Ice was shooting through Aria's veins. "Luna, what pictures?"
"The ones on your computer. When you were looking at the guy's news stories." Luna's delivery was casual and not solemn, as if she were a child sharing information that she didn't know was a secret. "He has eyes like mine. Is he my daddy?"
Aria was pulling into the first available parking space, her hands shaking as she turned to face her daughter. Luna looked curious, not upset. Clearly, she'd been weighing this connection for a little while.
"How long have you known?" Aria asked quietly.
"Since the family tree project," she said. "You said my daddy has gray eyes, like mine, and then I saw you looking at pictures of the guy with the same eyes. Plus, he is very serious like you are when you work."
The matter-of-factness of the connection was devastating. Luna had been on her own investigation, leaping to conclusions with the same detective-like thinking that each of her parents had.
"Luna, that's... complicated," Aria started, but then stopped. Her daughter had earned better than the half-truths and evasions that had kept them afloat thus far.
"Is it because he doesn't know about me?" Luna asked, her voice smaller now. "Because I make things complicated?"
"Absolutely not!" Aria responded, right away, emphatically. "Luna, you don't make anything complicated. You make things better. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"But he doesn't know I exist?"
Aria closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. "He didn't know. But..."
"But now he does?"
The same calm assessment that Luna used for everything came out in the question—no drama, no accusations, just a question Lisa wanted answered to understand the context of her current situation.
"Yes," Aria admitted, "now he knows."
Luna was quiet for a moment. She was now processing this confirmation of what she had apparently suspected for months. "What happens now?"
"I don't know yet," Aria answered, honestly. "This is all very new, and we have to sort through what makes sense for everyone involved."
"Will I get to meet him?"
The hopefulness in Luna's voice was noticeable, though carefully controlled.
Aria had done her best to craft their family story, but clearly, Luna was hungry to connect with the absent unknown parent that she had only known as an abstract concept.
"Maybe," was Aria's reply. "But, if that happens, I can assure you it would be very, very slowly and very carefully. The big changes happen slowly."
Luna acknowledged this solemnly. She took the explanation with the same solemn matter-of-factness she applied to all things.
"Can we go home now? I have math homework I want to do, and then I want to find more information on butterflies."
Aria enjoyed the drive home, feeling a slight sense of enchantment. Luna had just learned that her absent father was actually real, and possibly accessible, and she was processing this information with a remarkable, emotional equilibrium.
It was evidence that Luna was much stronger than Aria sometimes gave her credit for—capable of dealing with many more complex things than her mother would want to protect her from, and install a shield against them.
That evening, after Luna had settled in to do her homework, Aria stood at her apartment windows and looked out on Singapore's skyline. Somewhere in those lights, Xavier was undoubtedly planning his next move.
The man who had built a corporate empire on detailed strategy wasn't going to take his father-crush any less seriously.
The phone pinged and she saw an e-mail from an unrecognized address, but she knew the sender:
Aria,
I spent considerable time looking into child development and family law in Singapore this evening, and my understanding is that I will certainly want to take into account Luna's emotional attachment to her mother's family, and stability when I introduce myself to her.
My plan is to take a gradual approach, with our first contacts being in neutral, comfortable places where Luna can just watch me and interact with me without any expectations. I have no intention of disrupting her life, and I only want to add the good things about me into her life.
I have taken the entire month off so that we can take this stepwise approach. I am also in the process of consulting with a family clinician who has experience with the introduction of absent parents to children raised by single mothers to develop a plan going forward.
This is not an argument about whether I will be a part of Luna's life, it is a discussion about how we can do it in a way that is as healthy as possible for her.
I would like to meet you tomorrow to discuss logistics. Luna deserves to see both of her parents working together to support her well-being, no matter our personal entanglements.
Xavier
P.S. - You might be thrilled to know that I've also looked into Mandarin language tutors. If Luna wants to explore her Chinese heritage through your family history, I want to support that too.
Aria read the email three times, her feelings roller-coastering between annoyance, grudging admiration and unavoidable respect. Xavier had taken this crisis situation with the same systematic thoroughness he brought to everything he did, including an obsession as divorced parents, where he did not focus on his selfish desires for the immediate access.
The post script about Mandarin tutors was also effective. Aria had been considering language coaching for Luna, but hadn't found any openings in her schedule to do the exploratory research yet. Xavier's mention of this, demonstrated his thoughtfulness for the long-term betterment of Luna, and not necessarily to have a right to be a father.
Aria typed a response before she could talk herself out of it:
Xavier,
Your response is better thought through than I anticipated. I'd be willing to talk about a graduated introduction, but only if you agree to the following conditions:
1. All meetings happen at times and places at which Luna is comfortable.
2. I retain veto rights on contact that seems distressing to her
3. Luna is told the truth about your identity but it is hinted at as a truth over time, in a developmentally appropriate manner
4. This stops on a dime if you change your mind or do not remain consistent
I can meet tomorrow night after Luna's bedtime. 9pm, lobby of the Marina Bay Sands hotel.
One more thing - Luna has been self-teaching herself basic Mandarin through educational apps and would love some proper tutoring.
Aria
As she pressed send, Aria realised that she was committing to the biggest shift in the whole of life for Luna since her born. Their well curated life of two was becoming expanded to a person that would change everything they had built together.
But watching Luna's face when she was asking about meeting her dad, Aria realised that her daughter was ready for a bigger world in ways that her mother was not ready to acknowledge.
Luna deserved the chance to know her father, and maybe Luca deserved the chance to show he could be the parent Luna needed, rather than the chaos Aria had assumed.
Tomorrow night would reveal whether they would morph from a family of two to a family of three or fall apart at the seams after five years of carefully curated balance, all due to forces larger than them at play.
There was no going back regardless of either outcome. Xavier Knight was about to become a constant presence in their lives, and Aria could only wish that her daughter would be able to muster more strength than her protective fear.