From A Producer To A Global Superstar

Chapter 454: Luna’s Test

The café door swung shut behind Dayo with a soft click, barely audible, but Luna heard it like a gunshot. She didn’t move. Her hands remained flat on the table, fingers pressed into the wood grain as if anchoring herself to something solid. The cup in front of her had gone cold hours ago. She stared at the dark ring it left on the table, counting her own breaths.

One. Two. Three.

Her legs were trembling.

She tried to stand and her knees buckled slightly, catching herself against the chair. The café was mostly empty now, just a young couple in the corner and a waiter wiping down the counter. Nobody was looking at her. That was good. She couldn’t bear being witnessed right now, not when every wall she had built over the past year was crumbling inside her chest.

She made it to the door. Pushed it open. The night air hit her face—cool, sharp, carrying the faint smell of rain that wasn’t falling yet. She took one step onto the sidewalk, then another. Her car was parked two blocks down. She couldn’t remember walking here.

That was when it started.

The tears didn’t creep in. They arrived all at once, hot and unstoppable, streaming down her face before she could stop them. She pressed her hand against her mouth, not making a sound, her shoulders shaking with the effort of holding it in. She walked faster, almost stumbling, her vision blurred, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

Relief.

That was the first thing she felt. Immense, overwhelming relief. He hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t accused her. He hadn’t shut down or walked away or done any of the things she had prepared herself for. Instead, he had sat across from her and laid himself bare in a way she had never seen before. The man who controlled every room he entered, who managed every conversation like a chess match—he had trembled. He had asked about Jennifer by name. He had looked at her photo like it was the only thing in the world.

And part of her had been testing him. She knew that now, with brutal clarity. Every question she had asked, every angle she had pushed, every careful probe about his life and his commitments—it had all been a test. She had needed to know if he meant it. If he was real. If the vulnerability she saw was genuine or just another performance from a man who was excellent at giving people exactly what they needed to hear.

She reached her car and leaned against the driver’s side door, pressing her forehead against the cool metal. The guilt came next, heavy and suffocating. Because he had passed. He had passed every test she threw at him without even knowing he was being examined. And instead of feeling vindicated, she felt ashamed.

She thought about the man she had watched across that table. The way his voice cracked when he said Jennifer’s name. The way his hands shook when he held the picture, looking at a photo of a baby he had never met. She had done that to him. She had kept that moment from him for months, and then when she finally sat in front of him, she had made him work for it. Made him prove himself worthy of information he should have had from the beginning.

Luna slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door. The enclosed space made everything louder—her breathing, her thoughts, the weight of what had just happened. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and let herself cry properly, no longer fighting it. The sound filled the car, raw and unguarded, the kind of release she hadn’t allowed herself since the day she found out she was pregnant.

She had told herself she was protecting Jennifer. That was the story she had lived with. Protecting her daughter from a man who wasn’t ready, from a world that would complicate everything, from the chaos that followed Dayo everywhere he went. But sitting in that café, hearing him speak about his life, about the stories his father told him.in the army and the children he had watched grow up damaged by absence—she realized she had also been protecting herself. From the possibility that he might not want this. From the possibility that he might want it too much.

And then the deeper guilt, the one that had been sitting in her chest for over a year now. She had played a part in their breakup too. She had seen Alice confess to him, had watched him stand there in silence instead of shutting it down, and she had made a decision. She had walked away without asking the questions that mattered. Without giving him the chance to explain. She had told herself she was being strong, protecting her heart, but she had also been running. Just like he had been running now, in his own way.

Dayo hadn’t blamed her for any of it. Not for leaving. Not for keeping Jennifer secret. Not for making him sit across from her and beg for information about his own child. He had taken all of it and still looked at her with something that wasn’t anger. Something that looked dangerously close to understanding.

That was what broke her completely.

She started the car and pulled into the street, wiping her face with the back of her hand. The drive home was a blur of streetlights and stop signs, her mind spinning through every word he had said, every expression that had crossed his face. By the time she pulled into her parking space, her tears had slowed but the emotional residue remained, thick and clinging.

The apartment was quiet when she entered, save for the soft glow of the lamp in the living room. Amanda looked up from the couch where she sat, a book in her lap, her expression shifting immediately when she saw Luna’s face.

"Hey," Amanda said softly, setting the book aside. "You’re back."

Luna nodded, not trusting her voice yet. She set her keys on the table with deliberate care, then her bag, then her jacket. Each movement felt monumental, like she was underwater.

"She’s asleep," Amanda continued, standing up. "Went down about an hour ago hope all is good?."

"Thank you." The words came out hoarse. Luna cleared her throat. "Thank you for staying with her."

Amanda didn’t respond immediately. She was studying Luna’s face, reading the redness around her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands. "How did it go?"

Luna walked past her into the kitchen, filling a glass with water she didn’t really want. She needed the motion, the distraction of something normal. "He asked."

The silence behind her was heavy. She drank, set the glass down, then turned to face Amanda.

"He asked if she was his. And I told him the truth."

"Okay." Amanda’s voice was careful, measured. "And how did he take it?"

Luna leaned against the counter, her arms wrapping around herself. "Better than I deserved. He was... Amanda, he was different. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t accuse me of anything. He just looked at me and said he wanted to be part of her life. However slowly. However I needed it to go."

Amanda stepped closer, her expression softening. "That’s good, Luna. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?"

"I don’t know what I wanted." The admission came out sharper than intended. Luna pressed her palms against her eyes, exhaling slowly. "I mean, yes. I wanted him to want her. I wanted him to be a father. But I also... I was testing him tonight. I kept pushing, asking questions about his life, his schedule, whether he could really commit. I was looking for a reason to say no. Looking for proof that he wasn’t serious."

"And?"

"And he passed every test. He was vulnerable. He told me things he’s never told anyone. I showed him a photo of her and his hands were shaking." Luna dropped her hands, her eyes glistening again. "And instead of feeling relieved, I felt guilty. Because I put him through all of that, Amanda. I made him prove himself worthy of his own child. And he did it. Without resentment, without blaming me. He just... did it."

Amanda was quiet for a moment, leaning against the counter beside her. "You were protecting your daughter."

"I was protecting myself."

The words hung in the air between them. Luna looked down at her hands, at the fingers that had held Jennifer through countless nights alone.

"I walked away from him without asking the questions I should have asked," she said quietly. "I saw Alice confess her feelings, and I saw him not shut it down immediately, and I made a decision. I decided he had chosen. I decided I wasn’t enough. And I left. No conversation, no confrontation, no chance for him to explain. I just... left."

She looked up at Amanda, her voice trembling. "And tonight, sitting across from him, hearing him talk about how he changed for me, how he stopped his old habits because of me—it made me realize I never gave him the chance to show me that change. I assumed the worst and I acted on that assumption. And then I kept his child from him for months. What does that make me?"

"It makes you human," Amanda said firmly. "It makes you someone who was hurt and scared and did what you thought was right at the time. You’re not a villain, Luna. You’re a mother who was trying to protect her child. And yes, maybe you could have handled things differently. Maybe you both could have. But he’s not blameless in this either. He didn’t shut Alice down. He let you walk away. He didn’t come after you."

"I know." Luna nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I know. And that’s the thing—we both failed. We both let our pride and our fear win. And now there’s this beautiful little girl sleeping in the next room who deserves better than two parents who are too damaged to figure out how to be in the same room without testing each other."

Amanda reached out, resting a hand on Luna’s shoulder. "But you were in the same room tonight. And you told him the truth. And he wants to be involved. That’s not nothing, Luna. That’s the foundation. Everything else can be built from there."

Luna looked toward the hallway, where Jennifer’s nursery sat quiet and dark. She thought about her daughter’s face, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the small sounds she made when she was dreaming. She deserved a father who wanted her. And tonight, Luna had finally given her that chance.

"I hope so," she whispered. "I really hope so."

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