Swipe Right
Copyright© 2026 by Sci-FiTy1972
Chapter 57: The Weight He Chooses
The restaurant closed later than usual.
Not because the crowd lingered—though they always did—but because Tanya Morgan refused to rush people out just because the world insisted on orbiting her son now.
She wiped the counter herself, slow and deliberate, as if the rhythm of it could remind the room what it had always been: a place for food, warmth, and the kind of conversations that didn’t need permission.
Patrick stacked chairs. He said little. He hadn’t said much since the whispering started.
Darius watched them from the doorway.
He hadn’t worn the crown openly before. Not here. Not with them.
He didn’t know how to begin.
Tanya broke the silence first. She always had.
“They bowed today,” she said, not looking up. “A young couple. Stood up from their table when I brought the check. Called me Your Grace like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
Patrick snorted quietly. “I told them to sit down before they embarrassed themselves.”
“They didn’t,” Tanya said. “They were just ... trying to show respect.”
She finally turned to Darius. Her eyes were tired. Not angry. Not afraid.
Just grieving something she hadn’t known she’d lose.
“I don’t want to be royal,” she said softly. “I just wanted to cook.”
Darius felt the weight of it settle in his chest.
“I know,” he said.
Patrick leaned against the counter. “People look at us differently now. Like we’re ... elevated.”
He shook his head. “We didn’t go anywhere.”
“No,” Darius replied. “But I did.”
That landed.
They sat together after that—no ceremony, no formality. Just family at the end of a long day.
Braden lay on the floor with Bianca, scratching her ears. The dog was content, tail thumping lazily against the tile, nose already twitching at the scent of bacon Darius had wrapped up earlier.
“You know,” Braden said thoughtfully, “if Uncle D’s a king now, that probably makes Bianca a royal dog.”
Bianca barked once, sharp and proud, then immediately looked toward the counter.
Tanya laughed despite herself. “She’s always thought that.”
Braden grinned and looked at Darius. “So ... since I’m just your nephew, I guess I’m not a prince. What am I?”
Darius reached into the paper bag, pulled out a strip of bacon, and tossed it gently across the room.
Bianca caught it mid-air with flawless precision.
Darius met Braden’s eyes.
“You’re still becoming,” he said.
Braden frowned slightly. “That’s it?”
Darius smiled. “Before, I would’ve told you that you could be anything on Earth.”
He gestured upward.
Outside, beyond glass and steel and quiet gravity, the planet hung luminous and impossibly whole.
“But Earth,” Darius continued, “isn’t the limit anymore.”
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