Chapter 130
Jack
This is not how I wanted to spend Lanny's first birthday.
On a fucking phone call.
Not holding him.
Not kissing him.
Not pretending I'm not about to cry when he smashes cake everywhere.
Instead, I'm perched on the edge of my too-big, too-cold, too-lonely royal bed, staring at the burner phone like it's my lifeline. Because it is.
I let out a slow breath as I listen to the noise on the other end — the clatter of plates, Nolan's dramatic complaining, Ciel attempting (and failing) to shush everyone, Lanny babbling cheerful nonsense that should've been right in my ear, not filtered through cheap speakers.
I drag a hand down my face.
I can't even ask them to send pictures on a normal phone, because I'm pretty sure the military duke has access to the entire kingdom's cable line.
Peter warned me about that, and Peter seems to know sruff, so I'm not taking risks. Not with them, so I should just suck it up.
