From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 443: Unfinished business....2
The door clicks shut behind them.
Soft. Controlled.
It doesn't echo, but it settles into the room like something deliberate—like a boundary being drawn.
Dayo doesn't move right away.
He stands just inside, one hand still near the door, like he hasn't fully decided to step into the moment yet. The air feels different here. Quieter than outside. Not empty—just contained. Like everything in the room is waiting for them to decide what this is.
Luna is already seated.
Back straight, hands resting together loosely in her lap. Not tense, not relaxed either. Just… held. Like she's aware of every part of herself and where it is.
He notices that first.
The way she carries herself now.
There's something softer about her edges, but something firmer underneath. Not fragile. Not uncertain. Just… settled in a way he doesn't remember.
Or maybe he does.
Maybe he just forgot what it looked like when she wasn't around him.
He exhales quietly and walks in properly this time.
Two steps. Three.
Then he pulls out the chair opposite her and sits.
Not too close. Not too far.
Just enough distance to keep things from feeling immediate.
For a while, neither of them says anything.
Their eyes meet, drift, return again. Not avoiding. Not confronting either. Just adjusting to the fact that this is real.
Up close.
After everything.
Luna speaks first.
"...How have you been?"
Her voice is even. Not soft, not cold. Just controlled.
Dayo leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on his thighs, fingers loosely laced together.
"Busy," he says.
A small pause.
"Working."
That's all.
No extra weight. No explanation.
Just something functional enough to pass as an answer.
Luna nods once.
She expected that.
"Yeah," she says quietly. "I figured."
Another pause settles in.
This one doesn't stretch awkwardly—it just sits. Like both of them are letting the moment breathe without rushing to fill it.
Dayo shifts slightly in his seat, leaning back this time, one arm resting against the side of the chair.
"You've been… off the radar," he says.
"On purpose."
He glances at her, a faint lift at the corner of his mouth that doesn't fully become a smile.
"That bad?"
She lets out a small breath through her nose.
"Not bad. Just… loud. And I got tired of it."
He nods slowly.
"That makes sense."
He pauses, then adds, "You always handled it better than most people."
"Handling something and wanting it aren't the same."
He huffs quietly. Not quite a laugh.
"Yeah. I learned that late."
There's something in that line that could go somewhere deeper.
It doesn't.
They both let it pass.
The conversation drifts into safer ground.
His races. Briefly.
She mentions seeing clips. Not everything. Just enough to show she's aware.
He shrugs it off like it's routine. Like it doesn't matter.
Then her work.
She keeps it light. Talks about stepping back, doing things differently, keeping things smaller.
No details that invite questions.
No openings.
They're both doing it.
Talking without saying anything.
Dayo's eyes shift without him realizing it at first.
To the side of her chair.
There's a bag there.
Not large. Not styled like something meant to be seen. Just practical. Zipped halfway, the top slightly open.
Something soft peeks out.
Fabric.
Folded.
Light-colored.
His gaze lingers a second too long before he pulls it back.
But the thought stays.
Quiet.
Then louder.
He shifts again, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"You've been… good?" he asks.
It sounds like a simple check-in.
It isn't.
Luna hears the difference.
She takes a moment before answering.
"I've been okay."
Not a full answer.
But not a lie.
He nods once.
His eyes flick back to the bag.
Then away again.
Then back.
He tries not to make it obvious.
He's not sure why it's bothering him.
Or maybe he knows exactly why.
"She's… how old?" he asks suddenly.
The question slips out without a proper lead-in.
Luna stills, just slightly.
Not enough for someone else to notice.
Enough for him to feel.
"Few months," she says.
Her voice doesn't change.
Doesn't tighten.
Just steady.
Dayo nods again, slower this time.
"Okay."
He leans back, dragging a hand across his jaw, fingers pressing lightly as if grounding himself.
The room feels smaller now.
Quieter.
Like something has stepped into it without being invited.
He looks at her again.
Studies her face this time.
Not just seeing—reading.
Looking for something.
Anything.
"You're handling that alone?" he asks.
She holds his gaze.
"I'm managing."
Another careful answer.
Another closed door.
He nods again.
"Yeah."
Silence stretches.
Not uncomfortable.
But not neutral either.
There's something building now.
Something neither of them is naming.
Dayo inhales slowly.
Lets it out.
His fingers tap once against his knee before going still again.
"I heard you…" he starts.
Then stops.
The words hang there.
Unfinished.
Luna's eyes lift to his immediately.
She knows.
Of course she does.
Her body reacts before she can stop it—just a slight shift in her shoulders, a tightening in her hands.
He notices.
That's what makes it harder to continue.
He exhales through his nose, jaw tightening for a brief second before relaxing again.
He tries again.
"The child," he says, voice lower now. More deliberate. "She's yours?"
It lands between them.
Clean.
But not complete.
Luna doesn't look away.
Doesn't hesitate.
"Yes."
One word.
Steady.
True.
That's all she gives him.
Dayo nods once.
Something shifts inside him again.
Subtle.
But heavier this time.
He leans back, resting into the chair, eyes dropping for a moment before returning to her.
"And the father?"
There it is.
Not sharp.
Not aggressive.
But not casual either.
Luna feels it settle in her chest.
This was always coming.
She knew it the moment he walked into the room.
Maybe even before that.
Her fingers press lightly against each other.
She keeps her face neutral.
"Why?" she asks.
Not defensive.
Not challenging.
Just… redirecting.
Dayo tilts his head slightly.
"Just asking," he says. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
He gives her the space.
The exit.
And she takes it.
"It's not something I talk about."
Her voice is calm.
Controlled.
Closed.
He watches her.
Long enough to understand what that means.
Long enough to understand that pushing further right now won't give him anything.
So he nods.
"Alright."
And just like that—
He lets it go.
Outwardly.
But inside, the answer starts forming anyway.
She moved on.
Of course she did.
Time passed.
Things changed.
That's how it works.
The thought sits in his chest, heavier than it should be, but not unexpected.
Not shocking.
Just… there.
Luna watches him process it.
She sees the shift.
The quiet conclusion he's reaching.
And she says nothing.
Because correcting it would mean opening something she's not ready to open.
Not here.
Not like this.
The silence that follows is thicker now.
Full.
Dayo exhales quietly, running a hand over the back of his neck.
"You're good, though?" he asks again.
It sounds similar to before.
It isn't.
There's something under it now.
Something that slipped through.
Luna hears it.
Feels it.
She nods.
"I'm okay."
He studies her face again.
Longer this time.
Like he's trying to decide if that answer is enough.
Then he nods once.
"Good."
Another pause.
Then she shifts slightly in her seat.
"You?" she asks. "You look… the same."
He lets out a quiet breath, almost a smile.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Still holding everything in."
That lands.
He doesn't respond immediately.
Just looks at her.
Then glances away, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Some habits stick."
"Some don't."
He looks back at her.
That one sits between them longer than the rest.
Then he shakes his head slightly, like he's brushing something off.
"It's not the same," he says under his breath.
The words come out before he decides to say them.
Before he filters them.
They just… slip.
Luna stills.
Her fingers tighten again in her lap.
She heard that.
Clearly.
She doesn't respond to it.
Doesn't expose it.
But something in her chest shifts.
Deep.
Dayo clears his throat lightly, shifting in his seat again.
"Why did you come?" he asks.
Direct.
Finally.
Luna's breath catches—just slightly.
This is it.
The real question.
The one everything has been circling.
She looks at him.
Really looks.
Her mind moves faster than her expression.
If she says it—
Everything changes.
If she doesn't—
Everything stays exactly where it is.
Her lips part slightly.
Then close.
She exhales slowly.
"I wanted to see you," she says.
It's true.
Just not complete.
Dayo holds her gaze.
Something flickers behind his eyes.
He nods once.
"Okay."
He doesn't push.
Doesn't question it.
But he hears what's missing.
Even if he doesn't know what it is.
Silence settles again.
Heavy.
Full.
Unresolved.
Then slowly, Luna shifts.
Just enough to signal something is ending.
Or changing.
Dayo notices.
He stands.
She stands a second later.
Now they're closer.
The space between them feels different like this.
Smaller.
More real.
For a moment, neither of them moves.
Just standing there.
Everything unsaid still sitting between them.
Alive.
Dayo exhales quietly.
"I'm around," he says. "For a bit."
Not an invitation.
Not clearly.
But not nothing.
Luna nods.
"Okay."
Another pause.
Short.
But heavy.
Then she turns.
Not abruptly.
Just enough.
He watches her as she moves toward the door.
Hand on the handle.
A slight hesitation.
Like she might turn back.
She doesn't.
The door opens.
Light shifts.
Then she steps out.
And she's gone.
Dayo stands there a second longer.
Then another.
His jaw tightens slightly as he exhales, running a hand over the back of his neck.
His eyes drift to the chair she sat in.
Then to the space where the bag had been.
Then back to the door.
Something doesn't sit right.
He doesn't know what.
But he feels it.
And it doesn't go away.
