Chapter 188: Carlton and Celia
After leaving the store, we find ourselves seated in a charming tea and dessert shop tucked away in one of Vitra’s bustling alleys. The scent of fresh pastries and brewed tea fills the air, and the lively chatter of other patrons creates a cozy backdrop.
I take a delicate bite of the cake in front of me, savoring the soft sponge and rich cream. It’s divine, easily one of the best desserts I’ve ever had. Yet, as much as I enjoy the indulgence, my thoughts drift back to Thorne and Mimi. The sweetness of the cake doesn’t compare to the warmth of holding my daughter or the way Thorne’s eyes light up when he sees me.
Opposite me, Jane and Celia are caught up in their conversation, the two of them far too at ease. Jane leans back in her chair, her plate empty save for a few crumbs, while Celia sips her tea with an air of elegance that seems effortless.
"Thank you for this," Jane says to Celia, breaking the comfortable silence. "Callan’s been suffocating me lately—being overprotective and all." She rolls her eyes, though her tone carries a hint of affection.
Celia chuckles, her laughter soft and melodic. "He’s just like his father. When I was pregnant with the twins, he wouldn’t even let me take a single step down the stairs without hovering like a worried hen."
They laugh together, their bond apparent. It’s a sweet moment, but as I listen, a pang of sadness wells up in my chest. I didn’t have Thorne with me during my pregnancy. I didn’t have his hands on my shoulders, guiding me gently, or his voice reassuring me when I felt uncertain. That time in my life had been so lonely, and while I wouldn’t change the outcome—because it gave me Mimi—I still feel the ache of what was missing.
I glance down at my half-eaten cake, my appetite suddenly diminished. If I ever get pregnant again—and I hope I do—things will be different. Thorne will be there every step of the way. He’ll hold my hand during the sleepless nights and fuss over every little thing. The thought brings a bittersweet smile to my face.
Needing to shake the melancholy, I clear my throat and decide to steer the conversation. "How did you and the Duke meet?" I ask Celia, genuinely curious.
Celia’s lips curve into a soft smile, her blue eyes sparkling in a way that feels so familiar. It’s the same warmth I see in Thorne when he looks at me. She sets her teacup down gently, as though savoring the memory she’s about to share.