Cecilia opened her mouth to offer to accompany Elliot, yet Nathaniel's low voice arrived first, cutting gently through the clatter of dishes. “You're not a toddler anymore. Off you go on your own.”
Elliot answered with an obedient little hum before slipping off his stool and padding toward the restroom corridor, the tassels on his monkey mask bobbing with every determined step.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, Cecilia's shoulders stiffened. She turned to Nathaniel. “Would you mind trailing the kid? If some creep sets eyes on him, what then?”
Nathaniel met her gaze, calm and steady. “Relax. Security here is airtight, and he's got a bodyguard shadowing him. Nothing will happen.”
Assured that a guard was in tow, Cecilia allowed a breath she hadn't realized she was holding to ease out.
Only then did she notice how tightly Nathaniel's jaw was set. “You look upset. Something wrong? Work trouble?”
“No. I'm perfectly fine,” Nathaniel replied, voice even, expression unreadable.
Across the table, Jonathan squinted at his father. “Dad, your face is darker than a chalkboard. Drop the act.”
Nathaniel's brows knitted, a tiny storm cloud passing over his features.
Cecilia leaned in, worry softening her tone. “Talk to me. What's weighing on you?”
“I'm just working through a single question,” Nathaniel said, choosing each word with maddening care.
“Which question?”
He locked eyes with her. “What suit I should wear for New Year's.”
Nathaniel never swung straight for the strike zone.
And Cecilia, these days, no longer tried to guess where the pitch might land.
“All your suits look the same,” she answered, tone practical, blind to the barb.
All the same. The phrase rattled around in Nathaniel's chest, souring his mood a shade darker.
Jonathan caught the shift instantly.
He decided his dad deserved a lift, not another bruise.
“Mommy, Daddy, I need the restroom too,” Jonathan announced, already sliding off his seat.
“Go ahead,” Cecilia said, brushing a crumb from his cheek.
Jonathan trotted out of the private room, shoulders squared with a mission only he knew.
With both boys gone, the silence between husband and wife settled like fresh snow.
How about your emotional IQ? Nathaniel thought, irked that she showered the children with new outfits yet never once considered her fully-grown husband. He swallowed the complaint with a soft, disgruntled hum.
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