The New London Divide
Dinner in New London
[Aprille's Chapter]
“No.”
The word slipped between her lips before she could stop it. She saw herself reflected in the diamond, her eyes huge and fearful.
“No?”
The whole restaurant had gone silent. Her hands flew to her mouth to cover her trembling lips.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, desperately trying to make this a more personal affair. Instinctively, the whole room leaned in closer to listen. “Drenin, please try to understand-“
“No no, I do, completely,” the young man closed the velvet box with a snap, a very strained smile on his face. “I’m sorry too, Celeste. I know marriage isn’t on your agenda.”
Around them, the restaurant began to go about its own business. Cutlery clinked against glistening porcelain, the soft murmur of Platinums filling the lush interior. It was too obvious that the other diners were playing the ‘disinterested citizens’ she’d often seen on a movie screen; they were a little too interested in their own affairs. Celeste picked up her spoon for something to play with, so that Drenin couldn’t see her shaking fingers.
“So,” Drenin got back into his seat gracefully; it was almost as though he hadn’t been kneeling on the floor for the biggest rejection of his life. “What is it about me that is decidedly unmarriable, Cel?”
She looked up at him through her almost silver hair. The forced smile had vanished.
“What?”
“You made it rather clear that this was not something you were open to at all. You were blurting no almost before I had the ring out.”
She clenched the spoon tighter and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself; his temper was infamous in their circles.
“It’s not you, Drenin,” she muttered. “I’m just more-“
“-career oriented, I know. I know everything about you, Cel. I thought you loved me though.”
“I do!” she protested, tears beginning to sting her eyes. “Please, Drenin, I don’t want this to end.”
“So where is it meant to go?” he snapped, louder than polite conversation. Heads began to turn, curious diners eager for the chance to snap up gossip before it hit the Tele-Papers. “Is this just a dead end, Cel?”
“Please don’t do this here.”
“No, you know what,” he stood up; slamming down the knife he’d been gripping. “I’m doing this here. We’re through, Celeste Monroe. It’s over.”
She sat impassively at their table, the digi-candle flickering like a real flame. Tears began to burn.
I will not cry in this restaurant. I am a Platinum card citizen; the youngest member of the New London Republic government. I will not cry in public!
She stood up, taking her time in folding the white linen napkin. Fellow diners watched her closely, waiting to see tears appear in her delicate blue eyes. They were disappointed though; Celeste Monroe left the restaurant with her head held high and her pride intact.
“No.”
The word slipped between her lips before she could stop it. She saw herself reflected in the diamond, her eyes huge and fearful.
“No?”
The whole restaurant had gone silent. Her hands flew to her mouth to cover her trembling lips.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, desperately trying to make this a more personal affair. Instinctively, the whole room leaned in closer to listen. “Drenin, please try to understand-“
“No no, I do, completely,” the young man closed the velvet box with a snap, a very strained smile on his face. “I’m sorry too, Celeste. I know marriage isn’t on your agenda.”
Around them, the restaurant began to go about its own business. Cutlery clinked against glistening porcelain, the soft murmur of Platinums filling the lush interior. It was too obvious that the other diners were playing the ‘disinterested citizens’ she’d often seen on a movie screen; they were a little too interested in their own affairs. Celeste picked up her spoon for something to play with, so that Drenin couldn’t see her shaking fingers.
“So,” Drenin got back into his seat gracefully; it was almost as though he hadn’t been kneeling on the floor for the biggest rejection of his life. “What is it about me that is decidedly unmarriable, Cel?”
She looked up at him through her almost silver hair. The forced smile had vanished.
“What?”
“You made it rather clear that this was not something you were open to at all. You were blurting no almost before I had the ring out.”
She clenched the spoon tighter and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself; his temper was infamous in their circles.
“It’s not you, Drenin,” she muttered. “I’m just more-“
“-career oriented, I know. I know everything about you, Cel. I thought you loved me though.”
“I do!” she protested, tears beginning to sting her eyes. “Please, Drenin, I don’t want this to end.”
“So where is it meant to go?” he snapped, louder than polite conversation. Heads began to turn, curious diners eager for the chance to snap up gossip before it hit the Tele-Papers. “Is this just a dead end, Cel?”
“Please don’t do this here.”
“No, you know what,” he stood up; slamming down the knife he’d been gripping. “I’m doing this here. We’re through, Celeste Monroe. It’s over.”
She sat impassively at their table, the digi-candle flickering like a real flame. Tears began to burn.
I will not cry in this restaurant. I am a Platinum card citizen; the youngest member of the New London Republic government. I will not cry in public!
She stood up, taking her time in folding the white linen napkin. Fellow diners watched her closely, waiting to see tears appear in her delicate blue eyes. They were disappointed though; Celeste Monroe left the restaurant with her head held high and her pride intact.