Chapter 78: Little bubble
Chapter 77
Ciel
I place the neatly cut-up fruits beside Nolan, who’s tucked away in Jack’s office like he’s been rooted there all day. The soft click of his keyboard fills the space, punctuated by the occasional shift of his chair as he leans forward, back, forward again. He’s so focused, so serious, it’s almost strange to see him like this.
Nolan isn’t the loud, reckless version of himself here. He’s quiet, contained, his brow furrowed just enough to make a soft crease between his eyes. The glow from the monitor outlines his profile — the sharp jaw, the small freckle near his ear, the faint line of concentration biting into his bottom lip.
He doesn’t even notice me.
Which, honestly, is perfect.
It lets me look.
Jack’s the obvious one — tall, broad shoulders, muscles that draw attention whether he wants them to or not. The kind of man that fills a room. People see Jack and assume alpha. Commanding. Dependable. Strong. And he is all those things. He’s also mine. And that still startles me sometimes.
But Nolan...
Nolan isn’t loud strength. He’s quiet gravity. He draws people in without meaning to. I still remember back in Tilkermill, before he started hanging around me in the open, how wanted he was. Girls and boys both used to whisper about him. He could’ve had anyone. And then... he chose to stand next to me.
And in doing so, he lost everything.
I stare a little longer, my throat tightening around something unnamed.
Sometimes—God, sometimes—I wish things were simpler. That he was an alpha or I was a beta.It would make this feeling that simmers quietly in my chest... less impossible.
He suddenly looks up.
His eyes meet mine and for a split second it’s like he sees straight through me. The way he raises one brow, wordlessly asking what are you thinking about now, makes me flustered.
I mouth, nothing, and gesture toward the plate of fruits.
He smirks a little, the tiniest twitch of his lips, before going back to whatever lecture or online module he’s working through. And just like that, the invisible thread between us loosens.
I step out of the office.
And I leave behind the feelings I’m not supposed to carry. The quiet ache that lingers in my chest. The stupid, soft what if.
*
"I’m thinking about getting a nanny," Jack says casually as he helps me grate some tomatoes.
I freeze mid-stir.
A nanny?
"...For Lanny?" I ask, careful, like stepping into water I’m not sure is cold or warm.
"Uh, yeah. It’s just a suggestion. You could say no, that’s fine." His voice stumbles a little, betraying how much he’s thought about this already.
"Why?" I ask, a little too sharply.
Jack pauses. He sets the grater down, turns to face me fully.
"Sunshine, I love what we’ve got here. I really, really do."
"But?" My chest tightens at the quiet weight of that word.
"It’s not healthy."
The words land like a pebble dropped into still water—small, but the ripples reach everything.
"What do you mean it’s not healthy?" I ask, defensive without meaning to be.
He exhales slowly, the way he always does when he’s trying to be careful. His hands are slick with tomato juice, and he almost runs them through his hair before remembering. He grabs a kitchen napkin, wipes them clean, and leans back against the counter.
"We’re too isolated, Sunshine."
He gestures around us—not at the kitchen, but beyond it. The quiet stretch of beach. The wide, empty road. The silence that wraps around this house like a warm, invisible blanket.
"I love the beach house, but... we don’t have neighbors for twenty minutes in either direction. The town’s an hour away. We don’t see people. We don’t talk to people." His voice is steady, but it’s not a complaint. It’s something softer. A truth he’s been holding for a while.
I lower my gaze to the diced vegetables, suddenly finding them fascinating.
"We need to go out on dates. On picnics. Make friends." His words are a gentle nudge, not a shove.
"I have you and Nollie," I whisper. And I mean it. I do.
"You know that’s not okay." His reply is quiet. Not accusing. Just true.
And the worst part is—I do know. I want to live in this little bubble forever. Just us, the sea, the silence. But I also know bubbles eventually pop.
"I don’t know..." I say weakly.
Jack crosses the room, cupping my face with still-warm hands, and kisses my forehead.
"Just think about it, okay?" he murmurs.
"Okay."
***
Nolan
"I mean... he’s not wrong."
Ciel’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, and when he looks up at me, his eyes are soft, uncertain.
"You think so?" he asks, thumbs twiddling nervously.
"Well, yeah." I shrug, but it’s not careless. Jack is right.
Jack has this way of thinking about things I never would. Practical stuff. Future stuff. Things like me getting back to school, or us having more support, or making the world a little wider than just this house. It’s... nice, honestly. Having someone reliable. Someone who plans.
"I’ll be honest," Ciel says, his voice low. "I didn’t even think of that. I’ve just been glad we have this safety net."
I nod, because same. For the first time in a long time, I feel steady.
He goes quiet for a beat, picking at his sleeve. "I should be honest. I’m still scared they’ll find me."
I know who they is. The word hangs between us like smoke, heavy, bitter, familiar.
"But I can’t live my life in fear." His voice shakes at the edges but doesn’t break, and that alone makes something warm flare in my chest.
I shift closer without even thinking, and when I wrap my arms around him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. His body is tense at first ,like it always is when the past creeps too close but then it melts against me.
I press my chin lightly against the top of his head. "Exactly. Don’t give those fucking bastards so much power over you."
God, I’m proud of him. Of how far he’s come. Of how he still chooses softness in a world that tried to crush it out of him. I don’t think many people could go through what he did and still laugh the way he laughs, or love the way he loves. But Ciel does.
***
Ciel
Step one... of living my life.
God, why does that sound so terrifying?
I stand there on the edge of the park path, clutching Lanny like he’s the only thing keeping me anchored. Maybe he is.
"Wabababawawa," he coos up at me, kicking his little feet in the air.
"Yes, wabawawa to you too," I whisper back, pressing a kiss to his soft hair. His warmth steadies me just a little.
Okay. Here goes nothing.
I adjust him in my left arm and swing the diaper bag over my right shoulder. My heart pounds so hard I can almost hear it in my ears. I walk towards the gathering in the middle of the park—the one Jack nudged me towards joining.
It’s a bright day. Soft laughter, little squeals, the rustle of blankets on grass. There are babies everywhere, tiny humans bundled in colorful outfits. And parents. So many parents.
"Uhm... hello," I manage once I’m close enough.
Every head turns. Or maybe it just feels like every head turns. A wave of heat crawls up my neck. My palms are sweaty against Lanny’s onesie.
"My name is Ciel," I say, louder this time. "I, uh, recently applied to join this club."
"Oh, Ciel! We’ve been expecting you. Welcome, welcome!" A woman with warm brown skin, curly hair, and an easy smile stands to greet me. She has that confident, I’ve-done-this-before energy that makes me both admire and envy her.
"You can squeeze next to Ivan there," she says, gesturing toward a picnic blanket near the front.
I follow her gaze.
Sitting on the blanket is... well wow. A stunning omega with soft blonde hair pulled back loosely, green eyes bright like summer leaves, and a little girl on his lap. The kind of beautiful that makes you blink twice because you’re not sure it’s real.
I hesitate. Just a second.
But he smiles, a real one, easy and unforced. "Here, let me," he says gently, reaching out.
For a heartbeat, my chest tightens. Lanny. MyLanny. My instinct is to pull him closer, but then I realize how ridiculous I’m being. This is literally what I came here for. To meet people. To breathe outside of the bubble.
I let him take Lanny carefully, and the moment his hands settle around my son, I exhale.
He’s careful. Warm. Lanny gurgles happily, immediately captivated by the stranger’s hair.
I lower myself onto the blanket beside him, my heart still drumming a little too fast.
"Hey," he says, smiling at me over Lanny’s tiny head.
"Hi," I respond, my voice softer than I mean it to be.
"I’m new here too," he says with a small, shy smile.
For the first time since I stepped onto this grass, my lungs don’t feel so tight.