Chapter 65
Jack
Dinner is awkward.
Ciel avoids my gaze. Nolan glares at me.
It's like the first couple of weeks when we met again, only worse. Then, Nolan's hostility had been sharp but cautious, laced with suspicion. Now? Now he's on his guard, not just for himself but for Ciel too.
He's bristling, shoulders tense, fork clinking a little too loudly against his plate. Guard dog mode. Only this time, comparing him to a dog isn't even amusing. Because I can tell—he's genuinely fucking furious.
The air is heavy, thick with unsaid words. Lanny babbles in his highchair, blissfully unaware, smacking his tiny palms against the tray. His laughter is the only sound that doesn't feel loaded.
Ciel, ever careful, spoons food onto Lanny's plate with delicate precision. He doesn't look at me once. His lashes lower, his mouth set in a calm line that's too calm. That's worse than anger—Ciel's silence, when it comes like this, always means his heart is fragile and he's building walls.
