Page 62 of Bone Dust

“C’mon, Savannah. Eat.” He juts his fork toward my plate.

There it is.

That relaxed man I saw chasing fireflies with my daughter. Sometime between the night he overdosed and now, he’s found peace. I wonder how foreign a feeling it must be to someone navigating the newness of a quiet and uneventful life— especially given how chaotic his life used to be.

His stare intensifies and my gaze drops to my plate. I cut the manicotti with the edge of my fork.

“Tell me about Gigi.”

I lift my eyes. “What do you want to know?”

He pushes his chair back a few inches from the table. “I don’t know. Whatever you want to tell me. She’s quite the little spitfire.” His shoulders pulse. “What was it like holding her in your arms that first time?”

I swallow my food as a dreamy feeling settles over me and set my fork on the edge of the plate. I tent my arms, resting my elbows on the table and interlacing my fingers. I think for a second as the memory of holding her after she took her first breath settles in my mind’s eye. “It was incredible. Like time stood still and everything and everyone else faded away.” I begin, my voice soft and full of emotion. I catch his gaze. “It was magic.”

“Was she a hard birth?” He quizzes.

“I don’t know how to answer that. I’d gone through hours of labor. The doctors were talking c-section because my blood pressure was erratic. Before we could decide, my labor suddenly became fast and hard. Gigi was calling the shots.” I lean back and sip the wine as he patiently waits for more.

“She was early—four weeks. She had to go to the neonatal intensive care unit immediately following her entrance to the world but, before they took her away, they placed her in my arms.” A small smile tugs at my lips. “I’ve never been the same since.”

“Sounds surreal.”

“It was insta-love. I breathed her in. Felt the softness of her hair against my cheek. When I kissed her, my heart exploded.” A duet of tears tumbles down my cheeks. “Like I said, magic.”

“Guiliana is the best kind of magic.”

Out of nowhere, fear stabs me, and I suck in a breath. Ian instantly notes the change.

Ian’s brow pinches. “What’s wrong?”

I say nothing, imprisoned by irrational thought.

“You’re pale. Tell me.” Concerned, he reaches for my hand and our eyes meet. “I promise; it’s okay.”

Feeling awkward and embarrassed, I look away from him. “It’s stupid. It’s just with Drake showing up …” A picture flashes through my mind. “It was a dream,” I explain, shaking my head. “I guess I’m just still shaken up a bit.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

All of a sudden, my appetite wanes. Not really paying attention to what I’m doing, I push away the plate. A silent lull drops. A few awkward moments later, Ian speaks.

“How worried are you about that guy?”

“I don’t know, but maybe I should be.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because he’s unpredictable and it isn’t just me I have to be concerned about.”

“You’re worried about him hurting Gigi?”

“Or Sam. Or Cora. Or you. Or anyone else I love and care about. Anyone he sees as a threat.” I’m rambling and, when I look at Ian, he’s grinning. I’m confused. “Why are you smiling?”

He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “No reason.” He looks me dead in the eye. “Nothing’s gonna happen, Savi. Promise.” He peers at my plate. “Now, c’mon. Eat your dinner.”

I pick up my fork and, though I’m perplexed, he stares as I take a forkful. The look is intense in his beautiful eyes, sending a shiver down my back. I don’t know what it is but there’s a secret hiding there.

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