The Fear Dissertation // A Jonathan Crane Dark Romance

34

Jonathan pours me a glass of wine at the dining table, then serves my food. Seared scallops with lemon butter sauce and a bed of micro greens. Sparkling white wine. A fire crackling beside where we sit at the long, mahogany table.

Jonathan lifts his glass and looks at me with heavy eyes. "To you, Sienna."

I feel a sudden warmth that has nothing to do with the fire. "To you... Jonathan."

His gaze darkens momentarily as I say his name. I realise I always call him Doctor Crane — Jonathan must feel different for him.

"I didn't know you could cook," I say as I bite into a scallop.

"I'm a doctor, Sienna. I understand the importance of nutrition. Perhaps I should put you through medical school, then you might finally learn how to fuel your own body better."

"I fuel my body just fine," I argue, though I have to admit, I can almost feel my brain synapses firing up after a long slumber when I swallow the micro greens.

"You will under my watch." His gaze flickers across me. "You look stunning this evening."

"It would be difficult not to, with all the clothes you picked out for me."

He swells a little with pride. "Everything is to your taste?"

"I don't even know what to say. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Sienna. I want you to feel comfortable here. Whether this is the first and last time you visit, or if it becomes a regular occurrence."

"Doctor Crane... Jonathan," I correct myself. I think for a moment. "Why me? Why do you go to such trouble... For me?"

He chews thoughtfully for a moment. "I told you. I am frightened of losing you. I am frightened of you becoming unwell. Frightened of you feeling sad, or angry, or lonely. Frightened of you ever being hurt. I want you to feel important, and worthy, and happy."

His words send a cascade of moths through my abdomen. "But why?" I push. "Why me?"

"Because I laid eyes on you your first day at the asylum, and I've never wanted to look away since. I plucked up the courage to speak to you. And then, you showed me who you are." His eyes deepen. "We were made for each other, Sienna. Your research fits into mine like it never should have been absent in the first place. A scarecrow haunted you, just as it did me. You love art, and classics, and literature. You were raised half-heartedly by your grandmother, so was I. You are the piece that has been missing from me my entire life."

I'm suddenly consumed by the desire to know him, just as surely as he knows me. To learn everything about him. "Tell me about your grandmother."

But he only smiles sadly. "Not a topic for dinner conversation."

"Please."

"I won't spoil the only meal you've eaten today, Sienna." At that, he nods his head to my now-empty plate. "Good girl."

"It was delicious. Thank you."

"I'm glad." He stands to his feet. "I hope you'll enjoy the next course as thoroughly."

"Courses?" I ask incredulously. I have plans for tonight that will be greatly ruined if I'm too full to move.

He sighs. "When you're carrying my child, you'll need to eat far more than a few scallops."

And then he leaves the room. Leaves me, stuck like a malfunctioning computer, trying to piece together what he said.

When you're carrying my child.