The following months were ones of deep anguish. It had taken decades for me to rebuild my life after Henriette’s death, and seeing Luna for even that short space of time had thrown me back into the emotional wasteland I thought I had left behind me. I could not stop thinking of her and her apparent contrition.
Maybe I could have a house nearby, she had said. And in the beginning we could spend a few hours together a night. A few hours, that’s all I’m asking for.
Those words tortured me, and during those aching daylight hours, sleep was as elusive to me as a moment free from the lust for blood.
Despairing, my thoughts and emotions in turmoil, I withdrew from the world once more and from those around me. From being the light of my life, Mallory was suddenly shut out of the warmth of my affections and completely left out in the cold.
She was crushed and bewildered; I saw it daily—her confused little face staring up at me, imploring me. I eventually shut myself off from her thoughts and the ceaseless questions in those brief moments I was around long enough to hear them. At night I listened to her cry herself to sleep, but was too exhausted emotionally to be able to give her the comfort or attention she needed.
During that time, I thought a lot about Mama Akosua, who had warned me to mind Luna’s anger. And yet I hadn’t. Luna and I had been together for decades, our thoughts open to one another, and because of that intimacy, we had never really spoken about the things that upset her. As a slave, she had learned to ignore pain, misery, and anger as it mattered to no one. She did not know how to talk and I did not know how to listen. The only way she had been able to express her anger was through those emotional outbursts I had quickly become scornful of until she learned to be silent. I hadn’t seen the danger in that silence.
There had been three women in my long life who loved me and I was responsible for their destruction. Julia died as a result of my pride, Henriette because of my selfishness. And I destroyed Luna because of my unwillingness to listen. Would Mallory be a fourth casualty? Luna killed Henriette, but would I really have stayed with Henriette when Luna returned to me? No, and it would have destroyed that sweet, innocent girl.
After months of berating my staff and making the few people around me miserable, I began to give Luna’s idea of a house nearby serious consideration. I even surveyed a few plots of land. I took Mallory with me to see the last plot of land, one by the sea. It was the first time I had paid her any attention in months and it was heartbreaking to see her little face light up with joy when I told her she could come with me.
I decided this was where I would build Luna’s house. I was tired of resisting my love for her. I would always be as unsuccessful in that endeavour as I would have been if I tried to stop the sun from rising every morning. But Mallory had to come first. Before I could ever let Luna back into my life, I had to wait for Mallory to grow up and move away from here. Time was, and always would, be ours. So I would wait.
I bought the plot of land and hired architects to design a home for Luna. Nothing too big, for she would eventually move back into the mansion. But it had to be special. So with thoughts of us taking long walks by the sea, I set out to build this home for Luna. And maybe somewhere along those moonlight walks, we could find a way to redeem ourselves. With that decision made, I could get back to being a proper father to Mallory.
A few years passed, each one more hopeful as I drew closer to the day when Luna and I could take our long walks and talk beneath the stars.
I saw Luna a few times during that period, but she always kept her distance. She usually stood at the gates of the mansion watching Mallory and me get into the car to take her to school.
Luna had seen my intentions and the house that was being built a few miles away. She was happy. For the first time in decades, she was happy. Happy, but cautious about upsetting me, so she kept her distance at the mansion gates.
But there was something troubling her.
It was the only thing she did not fully reveal to me. It was regarding one of her descendants, Simon. Simon had sought Luna out a few years ago after a series of dreams led him to her whereabouts. Whenever one of her descendants arrived on her doorstep, she usually turned them away—as I did whenever they came to seek me out—with the exception being Sutana. But out of loneliness, she allowed this one to linger and a close bond had been formed between them. But something began troubling her recently concerning Simon. I didn’t worry too much about it. Mallory was twelve now. In a few years she would go away to college and the day would come when Luna and I could talk about any and everything she wanted in the house that was sitting empty by the sea.
I wish I had gone to her then and made her tell me whatever was making her uneasy about Simon. But the impression I always got from her thoughts was that it was trivial and something she should have dealt with years ago.
We have all of eternity, she reminded me. We have all of eternity.