Chapter 59: Probably
Chapter 58
Nolan
Jack is oblivious to Ciel’s obviously angry mood—it’s almost hilarious, if I wasn’t ticked off myself.
Ticked by Charlie, more like. A different kind of jealousy than the one I usually wrestle with.
When it’s Jack and Ciel together, it’s envy, that deep, bitter ache of wishing it was me. But this? Watching Charlie smile at Jack, touch his arm, look at Ciel like competition?
This is hate. Clean, hot, burning hate.
We pull into the garage, the door sliding shut behind us with a low hum.
"I’ll go prepare dinner," Ciel says suddenly, voice clipped, jumping out of the car before the engine’s even off.
"Okay, sunshine," Jack says, oblivious, almost cheerful. He climbs out, heads to the baby carrier, and lifts Lanny with the kind of tenderness that would melt anyone else.
Anyone but me. Right now all I can think is—what a fool.
Can’t he feel it? The storm building in Ciel’s chest, the way his smile has been sharpened into a blade?
I shut my door harder than necessary, the sound echoing in the garage. Jack doesn’t notice—he’s cooing at Lanny, tickling his cheek as if nothing in the world is wrong.
Fine. Let him play house with the baby.
I turn on my heel and follow Ciel.
The house smells faintly of rosemary and garlic already—he’s moving fast in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, knife hitting the cutting board in sharp, staccato strikes. Each slice is a little too precise, a little too forceful.
"Need help?" I ask carefully, stepping in.
He doesn’t look up, just keeps chopping, golden eyes hidden under his lashes. "Always."
I move to his side, grab a second knife, start on the vegetables he hasn’t touched yet. The silence between us is loud, broken only by the steady rhythm of knives on wood.
But his tension leaks into me. I can feel it radiating off him, thick and heavy.
"Okay, I get you’re not happy about the omega, but I feel like there’s something more to this," I say, watching him hack at the vegetables like they’ve personally wronged him.
No response. Just the sharp chop, chop, chop of the knife.
"Ciel," I press.
He exhales, shoulders sagging. "Fine. I’m not just angry. I’m afraid, okay?"
"Afraid?" My brows pull together.
"Yes, because of that stupid, pretty Charlie earlier today." He spits the name like poison.
"Why?" I ask, genuinely puzzled.
He looks at me like I’m an idiot for not getting it. His golden eyes flash, sharp and raw.
"I don’t know—maybe because he’s normal, Nollie. He’s pretty.He doesn’t have baggage like me. He’s a gofddam fucking nurse. He probably comes from a good home, has a family that actually cares. And look at me."
The knife clatters against the cutting board. He braces his palms flat on the counter, bowing his head. "What do I have to offer compared to that? Trauma? Nightmares? Scars?"
My stomach twists. He actually believes this.
"Ciel..."
He lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "Can’t you picture it? Jack going home with someone like that? Someone uncomplicated? No past to drag around. No baby that isn’t even his."
His voice cracks. "Charlie could give him peace."
And that does it. My chest flares with heat, and before I can stop myself, I slam my hand down on the counter beside him. The sound makes him jerk.
"Peace?" My voice is sharper than I intend, but I don’t care. "You think you can’t give him peace? You think you’re not enough?"
His eyes snap to mine, wet and furious. "What if one day he realizes he doesn’t want all this mess? Me. You. A child that isn’t his. What if he leaves?"
"No." My reply is instant, fierce. "Don’t you dare say that."
But then he gathers himself, his features sharpening into that brittle mask he always wears when the truth feels too raw.
"You know it’s the fucking truth, Nolan," he snaps, voice cutting but trembling at the edges.
My chest aches.
"All I can do is prepare this food, smile, and be pretty. And I can’t even give him the bare minimum an omega gives an alpha." His words splinter, each one laced with venom meant for himself.
I swallow hard, my throat thick. "Ciel, don’t. Don’t undermine what Jack feels for you." My voice softens, though it wants to break.
"He’s not here for ’bareminimums.’ He’s here for you."
He exhales sharply, turning his back to me, shoulders rigid as if that will hold him together. His hands move mechanically, chopping vegetables too quickly, too harshly, like if he just keeps moving he won’t fall apart.
I take a step closer, then stop myself. Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the distance and pull him into my arms.
He stiffens—one, two seconds—like he’s bracing for a shove. Then the shoulders drop. He melts against me the way he always does when the world gets too loud: slow, trusting, as if I’m the only stable thing he knows. His hands find my waist and squeeze like he’s anchoring himself.
"I know," he breathes into my shirt. "In my head I know Jack cares about me, about Lanny, about us. But you know how life’s been, Nollie."
"I know," I repeat, softer this time. My hands press into his back, feeling the tremor under his ribs.
"I know every ugly thing they did to you. I know what it’s like to let people decide you’re only worth what you give them. But that’s not us. That’s not him."
He pulls back just enough for me to see his face—golden eyes rimmed with red, jaw clenched like he’s holding back an avalanche. For a disturbing second I almost don’t recognize the brokenness there; Ciel never lets the cracks show for long. Now they’re wide open and I want to tape them shut.
"You think I don’t go through every possible disaster in my head?" he says, voice small.
"What if he gets tired of me? What if he sees someone else and it’s... easier? What if I’m not enough?"
"You are enough," I say, fiercer than I intend. "You’re the stupidest, messiest, most beautiful person I know. You survived things that would erase most people. Thats makes you beautiful Ciel."
He lets out a sound—half laugh, half sob—and buries his face in my shoulder again. I hold him like he’s fragile porcelain, like I’ve always done and always will.
If you told me, months ago I would be the one reassuring Ciel about Jack. I would probably punch you in the face.