Page 71 of Ivory Crown
Chapter Forty-One: Dante
Icaught Jade’s reflection in the flickering flame of the candle between us. The restaurant, a place where deals darker than the night outside were often brokered, now hosted our private sanctuary. She scanned the menu with eyes that held galaxies I could never hope to explore fully. Her hair fell in waves, softening her face, a contrast to the sharp intellect I knew simmered beneath.
“Strawberry and mint for your mocktail?” I ventured, my voice threading through the hushed murmurs of the room.
“Sounds refreshing,” she replied, not looking up from the list of starters.
I watched as her fingers, delicate but steady, paused over an option. “The calamari here is good,” I said.
“Calamari it is, then.” Jade set the menu down, a decision made.
We talked about the food, small talk befitting any couple out for a meal. But we weren’t just any couple. My world had rules, unseen chains I had reluctantly clasped around her life. “You know this isn’t forever, right?” I asked, my words laced with a guilt that tasted like the aged whiskey on my tongue.
Jade gave me a look that cut right through the bullshit. “I know,” she said simply, an unspoken truth between us. There was more to freedom than open doors—there was safety, especially now, with the life we’d created stirring within her.
“Once the baby’s born...” I trailed off, the thought unfinished.
She looked at me curiously, waiting for me to finish that sentence.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ll have figured something out by then,” I told her. “I will.”
I wanted to promise her the world, but I dealt in realities, not fantasies. And the reality was, in my world, even shadows were suspect, and trust was a luxury few could afford. I reached across the table, covering her hand with mine—an anchor in a sea that threatened to consume us both.
“Let’s just enjoy tonight,” she said, squeezing my hand, pulling me back to the present—to her.
I decided to test the waters. “You want to talk about the rules I’ve set?” The question hung between us, heavier than the scent of aged wood and rich marinara that filled the restaurant.
Jade grabbed the menu again, her finger trailing down the list of entrees as if every word mattered. “And give you an excuse to play your hand under the table? I’ll pass this time.” There was a tease in her voice, a lightness that defied our situation.
“Oh? That’s not like you. You’re usually so…insatiable.”
“If we weren’t in public, I’d be more into the idea,” she said. “But I feel like you’ve wrung me out. How many orgasms can one person have in one day?”
“I don’t know. Should we find out?”
She laughed. “Dante.”
“Okay, okay,” I chuckled, conceding the point. She laughed then—a clear, ringing sound that made heads turn.
Shifting gears, I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts turning to something—someone—that offered a glimpse of hope. “So, about the baby...” I could feel the shift in energy, a lightness creeping into the heavy air around us.
“Can’t wait to find out if we’re having a boy or girl,” Jade said, her eyes lighting up for the first time since we sat down. It was like watching the dawn break across her face, chasing away the shadows of our reality.
“Me too. But I have to admit, I’m kinda hoping for a daughter.” My words surprised even me, but once spoken, they felt right—like a truth I hadn’t realized until it was out in the open.
“Really?” Her eyebrow arched, playful and curious. “A little princess to wrap Daddy around her finger?”
“Something like that.” I smiled, imagining a miniature version of Jade with my eyes. A child untainted by the life I led—a life I’d do anything to keep her safe from.
Jade tilted her head, the soft blue fabric of her dress catching the light as she did. “That surprises me,” she said, a genuine curiosity coloring her tone. “I would’ve pegged you for wanting a son. You know, someone to follow in your...footsteps.”
“Thanks,” I replied, my smile tinged with irony. “But maybe there’s a part of me that wants something different. Less...complicated.” I took a sip from my glass, the rich whiskey failing to mask the bitterness of my reality.
Her gaze held mine, steady and searching. “Why a girl, though?”
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of memories long buried. “My mother,” I started, my voice barely above the hum of the restaurant, “had a few miscarriages after me. She always wanted a daughter. It was pretty brutal, her pregnancies were kind of advanced. The worst one, my mom almost died,” my throat tightened as I spoke, the old grief resurfacing with a dull ache. “We all felt it—each loss. It was like a dream we kept trying to hold on to, but it just kept slipping through our fingers.”
Jade reached across the table, her hand hovering over mine, not quite touching. Her face softened, eyes reflecting an empathy that made my chest tighten. In her silence, I found solace—a quiet understanding that words could never fully express.