Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) novel Chapter 278

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.