Page 36 of Ivory Legacy

“How could I be angry with you? I’m angry at myself. I can’t believe everything’s gotten so complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it,” Jade said, her lips curving into a wry smile. But the smile didn’t quite chase away the concern in her eyes, the silent questions about our future lingering in the space between us.

“True,” I admitted, my own worries clawing their way up my throat. “But hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing worth having comes easy.”

“Spoken like a true Moretti.” Her laughter held a hint of sadness, a melody that resonated deep within me.

“Can’t escape who I am,” I murmured, my resolve hardening. “But I can damn well make sure it doesn’t define our kid.”

“Or me,” Jade added quietly, pulling back her hand to tuck a stray wave behind her ear.

“Especially you,” I affirmed, my voice firm with a promise I intended to keep. No matter what it took.

The morning light spilled across the tiny dining table, casting her face in a soft glow that belied the tension between us.

“Jade,” I started, my voice low, searching for the right words without letting too much slip. “How did you even know it’s a boy? With everything going on...”

She glanced up from her own half-eaten pastry, decaf coffee cup cradled in her hands. “Prenatal appointments,” she explained, a clinical edge to her tone that always surfaced when she spoke of her work or anything remotely scientific. “I’ve been going whenever I can sneak out. They did a genetic test and, you know, an ultrasound.”

“Of course.” My chair scraped against the floor as I leaned in closer. “And I wasn’t there,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that she had tried to escape me, and understandably so.

“Would you have wanted to be?” Her question was a soft challenge, eyes locking with mine.

“Every damn appointment,” I confessed, the truth of it hitting me square in the chest. The desire to be involved was like a punch to the gut, an ache I hadn’t let myself feel until this moment.

“Even though I tried to leave you?” She didn’t blink, her question hanging heavy in the space between us.

“Especially then,” I said, my voice firm despite the uncertainty clawing at me. “I would’ve found a way, Jade. For you. For him.”

She nodded slowly, setting down her coffee with a quiet clink against the saucer. “Okay,” she whispered, the weight of our conversation settling over us like the early winter chill creeping through the windowpane. “But…”

“You should have told me you were going to the city. I would’ve taken you to the hospital myself.”

“Look, Dante,” she started, her voice barely above the hum of the refrigerator, “I know you want to help, but do you really think I can just go back to the city when…when everything is so complicated there?”

“I assume the clinic here isn’t spectacular if you aren’t going to it.”

“Harbor Cove is safe,” she continued, her fingers tracing the rim of her decaf coffee mug, “but it’s not just about location. It’s everything. You know why I’m here, away from the city’s... madness.”

“Jade,” I interrupted gently, feeling the weight of fatherhood tightening my chest. “I’ll support you both financially. This kid will have everything he needs, I swear it.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“Of course you do,” I said. “I’m not going to be some deadbeat dad who doesn’t give a damn. I’m in this, all the way. Harbor Cove or not, our son is going to grow up knowing his father didn’t just stand by.”

Jade pushed her plate away, the half-eaten croissant leaving flakes of pastry scattered like confetti on the white porcelain. The morning light filtering through the window illuminated her determined face as she met my gaze head-on.

“I don’t need your money, Dante,” she said, her voice steady with resolve. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and I can take care of our son too.”

“Jade,” I started, but she held up a hand, silencing me.

“Listen to me,” she continued, her eyes alight with that fiery independence I’d always admired. “This is not about pride or ego. It’s about making sure that my—our child grows up knowing the value of hard work, not just the weight of inherited wealth.”

I leaned back in my chair, the worn wood creaking under my weight. “You think I want him to be some spoiled brat?” I asked, frustration creeping into my voice. “I’m talking about security, stability. He shouldn’t have to want for anything.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the burden of the world had chosen that moment to rest upon them. “But at what cost, Dante? Your life...it comes with strings attached, dangerous ones. Harbor Cove may be a haven now, but what about later?”

“Is staying here what you really want?” I pressed, searching her face for clues.

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