Chapter 92 #92
Chapter 92
~Shailyn's POV~
It's Christmas morning!
I look at myself in the mirror one more time. Red and green plaid pajamas with little reindeer on them. Dante's wearing the matching set, and honestly, we look ridiculous.
"Ready?" he asks, grinning at me.
"As I'll ever be."
My phone buzzes. A text from Hannah: Merry Christmas, babe! Hope you're surviving the Belmar chaos. Call me later!
I type back quickly: Merry Christmas! Will call later. We have a party to plan!
Another text comes through. This one from Dwayne: Merry Christmas, Shailyn. Hope today brings you joy.
My heart does that stupid flutter thing. I delete the message without responding.
"Who's texting you?" Dante asks.
"Hannah. Wishing me Merry Christmas."
"That's sweet. Come on, everyone's waiting."
We head downstairs, and the living room looks like a Christmas explosion. The tree is surrounded by presents, everyone's already gathered in their pajamas, and there's coffee and hot chocolate on the side table.
"Finally!" Monica says when she sees us. "We've been waiting forever."
"It's been five minutes," Dwayne says dryly. He's wearing simple black pajamas, of course.
"Five minutes too long. I want to open presents."
Tyler laughs. "You're like a child, Monica."
"It's Christmas. I'm allowed."
I settle onto the couch next to Dante, and Monica immediately starts distributing gifts.
"Okay, okay. Who's going first?"
"Ladies first," Tyler suggests. "Shailyn, why don't you start?"
"Me?"
"You're pregnant. That makes you special."
"I second that," Dante says, kissing my temple.
Monica hands me a beautifully wrapped box. "This one's from me." She says sassily.
I carefully unwrap it, revealing a designer diaper bag. "Monica, this is gorgeous! Thank you.”
"I know, right? And it's practical. At least for the baby. Not you."
I knew the nice atmosphere can't last forever. "Thank you. I love it." I say in a clipped voice.
Cynthia's gift is next, two sets of organic baby skincare products. "Only the best for my grandchildren," she says.
"Thank you.” I know gifts from her and Monica are just for formality sake.
Tyler gives me a gift certificate for a spa day. "For after the baby comes. You'll need it."
"I definitely will. Thank you, Tyler."
Dante hands me his gift last, a large box wrapped in silver paper.
"Open it," he urges.
Inside is the most beautiful maternity robe I've ever seen. Silk, with delicate embroidery, in a soft cream color.
"Dante, this is stunning."
"I wanted you to feel beautiful. Even when you're exhausted and covered in baby spit-up."
Everyone laughs, and I lean over to kiss him. "I love it. Thank you."
"There's one more," Monica says, picking up a small box from under the tree. "From Dwayne."
My stomach drops. I look at Dwayne, who's watching me carefully.
"You didn't have to get me anything," I say.
"I wanted to."
I take the box from Monica. It's smaller than the others, wrapped in simple brown paper with a green ribbon.
I unwrap it slowly, and inside is a leather journal. But not just any journal, the pages are handmade, the cover is embossed with a quote: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
Is this a coincidence? What are the odds that we got the same thing for each other.
I open it, and on the first page, in Dwayne's handwriting, is a note:
For all the memories you'll make. The ones you have, and the ones still to come.
My throat tightens. I can't speak.
"It's beautiful, thank you.” I said softly. "Thank you," I manage. "This is... it's incredibly thoughtful."
"I'm glad you like it."
Dante shifts beside me. I can feel the tension radiating from him.
"That's nice," he says, his voice tight. "Very thoughtful."
"It is," I agree, trying to diffuse whatever's building.
"I mean, it's just a journal," Dante continues. "Not exactly groundbreaking."
"Dante," I warned quietly.
"What? I'm just saying. A robe seems more practical for a pregnant woman than a journal."
Dwayne's jaw clenches. "She can use both."
"Sure. But one's clearly more useful."
"Dante, stop," I whisper.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm just pointing out that my gift is more—"
"More what?" Dwayne interrupts. "More expensive? More showy?"
"More appropriate for my wife."
"Your wife seemed pretty happy with the journal."
"Because she's polite. But I know what she really needs."
"Do you?"
They're staring at each other now, and the room has gone completely silent.
"Boys," Tyler says sharply. "It's Christmas morning."
"He started it," Dante mutters.
"I started it?" Dwayne stands. "You're the one who—"
The doorbell rings.
Everyone freezes.
"Who could that be?" Cynthia asks. "We're not expecting anyone."
"I'll get it," Monica offers, standing.
But before she can move, the door opens.
An older man steps into the living room. He's tall, distinguished, with silver hair and sharp blue eyes. He's wearing a long coat and carrying a briefcase.
Dwayne and Dante both speak at the same time.
"Gramps?"
Tyler stands slowly. "Dad?"
I stare at the man, completely confused. "Wait, what?"
The man smiles, looking around the room. "Merry Christmas, family."
"What are you doing here?" Tyler asks, and there's something guarded in his voice.
"Can't a father visit his son and grandchildren on Christmas?"
"You usually call first."
"I wanted to surprise you."
Cynthia stands, smoothing her pajamas. "Gramps. This is... unexpected."
"Cynthia. You look….well."
There's tension in the air I don't understand. Everyone seems on edge.
"Who's this?" I asked Dante quietly.
Dante takes my hand. "Shailyn, this is my grandfather. Richard Belmar."
"Your... grandfather?"
"The patriarch of the family," Dwayne adds, his voice carefully neutral.
Richard's eyes land on me, and I feel assessed in a way that makes me uncomfortable.
"And you must be Shailyn. Dante's wife. I've never met you so it's nice to meet you."
"Yes, sir. It's nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine. I've heard so much about you."
"You have?"
"Oh yes."
Something about him makes my skin crawl.
"Would you like some coffee?" Cynthia offers. "We were just opening presents."
"Coffee would be lovely. And please, don't let me interrupt. I'll just observe."
He takes a seat in the armchair, and everyone slowly settles back down. But the easy atmosphere from before is gone. So it was just to be picked up and checked personally.
Monica hands out more presents, but no one seems as excited anymore.
I glance at Dante. He's tense, his jaw clenched.
I look at Dwayne. He's watching his grandfather with an expression I can't read.
I look at Tyler. He seems... afraid? No, that can't be right.
"Shailyn?" Richard's voice cuts through my thoughts.
"Yes?"
"You're pregnant, right?"
"Wonderful. The Belmar line continues."
The way he says it makes me feel like a broodmare.
"We're very excited," Dante says, his arm tightening around me.
"I'm sure you are." Richard smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure you are."
I clutch my hand to my chest, suddenly feeling like Christmas morning just took a very dark turn.
And I have no idea why.