Chapter 36 #36
Chapter 36
~Shailyn~
Dinner that evening was a formal affair, as it always was in the Belmar household.
I'd learned that much in the short time I'd been staying at the manor, seven o'clock sharp, everyone dressed appropriately, no phones at the table, no elbows on the surface, no speaking unless spoken to first by Tyler. The rules were unspoken but rigidly enforced through pointed looks and subtle corrections.
We all gathered in the grand dining room at exactly seven o'clock: Tyler at the head of the table in his wheelchair, his weathered hands resting on the armrests like a king on his throne. Cynthia sat to his right, looking elegant and cold in a cream-colored dress that probably cost more than most people's cars. Monica was beside her, already looking bored before dinner had even started, her perfectly manicured nails drumming impatiently against the table until her mother shot her a warning glance.
Dwayne sat across from them, his expression unreadable as always, those dark eyes of his seeming to look right through everything and everyone. And Dante and I were on the other side, Dante's hand resting possessively on my knee under the table, his thumb rubbing small circles against the fabric of my dress.
The table was filled with an elaborate meal, multiple courses prepared by the chef whose name I couldn't remember but who apparently had trained at some prestigious culinary school in France. Everything looked beautiful, artfully arranged on expensive china, garnished with herbs and drizzled with sauces that formed perfect patterns.
The first course was already being served, a delicate soup that smelled amazing, rich and creamy with hints of herbs I couldn't identify. Under normal circumstances, I would have been excited to try it.
But I could barely stomach it given my still-sensitive stomach.
The nausea had been coming and going all day. Sometimes I felt fine, almost normal. Other times, like now, the mere smell of food made my insides twist uncomfortably. I picked up my spoon, brought it to my lips, then set it back down without tasting anything.
"Not hungry, dear?" Cynthia asked, her voice carrying that false sweetness that always made me uncomfortable. Like she was pretending to care while actually judging every move I made.
"Just a little tired," I said quietly. "It's been a long day."
"Hmm," was all she said, but her eyes lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl.
Everyone ate in relative silence for the first few minutes, the only sounds were the clinking of silverware against china and the occasional murmured request to pass something.
I tried another spoonful of soup, forcing myself to swallow despite my stomach's protests. Dante noticed and gave my knee a gentle squeeze under the table, a silent gesture of support that made me feel slightly better.
"How are you feeling, Shailyn?" Tyler asked from the head of the table, his deep voice commanding attention. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," I assured him, forcing a smile. "Just adjusting to being back at work. It's been a bit overwhelming."
"Of course," he said, nodding. "Take your time. Don't push yourself too hard."
"Thank you, Tyler."
The second course was being brought out now, some kind of fish with a lemon butter sauce and roasted vegetables. It looked exquisite, but the smell of the fish made my nausea intensify. I took a deep breath through my mouth, trying not to gag.
Dante was watching me with concern now. "Are you sure you're okay?" he whispered, leaning closer.
"I'm fine," I whispered back. "Just not very hungry."
He looked like he wanted to say more, but then he straightened up in his chair and reached for his water glass instead.
The conversation remained minimal as we ate, or in my case, pretended to eat.
And all the while, I could feel Dwayne's eyes on me. Every time I glanced up, he was looking at me with that intense, unreadable expression that made me feel like he could see right through me.
It was unnerving.
Then, just as we were finishing the soup course, just as the servers were clearing away the bowls and preparing to bring out the main course, Dante cleared his throat loudly.
The sound was deliberate, attention-seeking. Everyone's heads turned toward him immediately.
"I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice carrying across the table with barely contained excitement. "Something important."
Everyone looked up, attention immediately focused on him. I felt my heart rate pick up, nervousness suddenly flooding through me. We'd talked about this, about telling his family about the baby, but now that the moment was here, I felt unprepared. Anxious.
What if they didn't react well? What if Cynthia said something cruel? What if Monica made one of her snide comments?
Tyler set down his spoon carefully, his eyes fixed on Dante with interest. "What is it, son?"
Dante reached over and took my hand, his grip warm and reassuring. He squeezed it gently, then looked around the table at each person individually, his father, his mother, his sister, his brother. Drawing out the moment, building suspense.
I could see the anticipation building in everyone's faces. Monica was leaning forward slightly. Cynthia had gone very still. Tyler's expression remained neutral but attentive. And Dwayne…
Then Dante dropped the bomb.
"Shailyn and I are expecting a baby."
The silence that followed was deafening.
For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Nobody even seemed to breathe. It was like time had frozen, like the entire room had been suspended in amber.
And then Cynthia's voice cut through it like a knife.
"What??" she said out loud, her face going pale, all the blood draining from her cheeks in an instant. Her hand flew to her pearl necklace, clutching at it like she might faint. "What did you just say?"
"We're pregnant," Dante repeated, his grin widening with obvious pride and satisfaction. "Six weeks along. We just found out this morning."
"Six weeks?" Cynthia's voice had gone up an octave, shrill and disbelieving. "You're saying she's six weeks pregnant?"
"That's what the doctor confirmed," Dante said, still smiling. "Why? Is there a problem, Mother?"
Monica's fork clattered to her plate, the sound unnaturally loud in the shocked silence. Her mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide as she stared at me like I'd grown a second head.
Tyler's expression was unreadable, his eyes moving between Dante and me with an intensity that made me want to squirm in my seat. He looked surprised, but he smiled warmly at the end.
And Dwayne...
Why was he looking at me like that? Like I'd just delivered the worst news he'd ever heard?
Tyler turned to Dante and I, and his expression softened slightly. "Congratulations, son. Shailyn. This is... unexpected news, but welcome nonetheless. A grandchild is a blessing."
"Thank you, Father," Dante said, squeezing my hand again.
I managed a small smile, though my heart was racing. "Thank you, father."
Next thing I know, Dwayne stood up. His expression is quite unreadable but his jaw was tense. It seemed as if he forced out his next words.
“Congratulations”
Dante, with a mocking smile. “Thanks brother”
Dwayne still had a tensed face. He wanted to say something, but he held himself back and walked out.
I wonder what was going through his mind.