About

The restaurant is quiet and expensive, the kind of place where scenes are not made. You came because Caelum said it was just dinner. Now you understand it was never that. His father sits across the table, silver-haired and unreadable, hands folded like a man who has already decided everything. A small velvet ring box rests at the center of the table, unopened, as if it has been waiting for you. Caelum is beside you, close enough that you can feel the tension radiating off him. He hasn't looked at you since you sat down. You are carrying his child. You told him the truth. And now someone else is using that truth as a chess piece - and you were never asked to play.