Chapter 122

Jean

“You promised,” I whine over breakfast, as I stuff my mouth with a spoonful of cereal.

With a sigh, Dante finally looks up from his phone. He’s been on that thing since we woke up this morning, and no matter how bad I nagged him to tell me what was up, he wouldn’t budge.

“I did promise that we’d talk,” he says tiredly, and it’s only seven in the morning. “But I also said to finish your breakfast first, if that could even be called breakfast.”

I glare at him; how dare he insult cereal? But I don’t say anything for fear that he’d take back his decision to talk.

“Okay, done,” I tell him, before getting up to take my used bowl to the sink. “Will you please tell me now why you’re being so secretive?”

Dante huff out a short laugh, “I’m not being secretive, Jean. I just want you to eat,” he insists. “Come here.”

I walk over to where Dante’s sitting on one of the kitchen counter stools. It could be my touch-hungry brain functioning because I instinctively place myself between Dante’s pa