chapter 130
Elena's POV:
The synchronized concern from both men hung in the air for a heartbeat before Luna, and I exchanged glances, a moment of shared understanding passing between us.
There was something almost comical about these two powerful, territorial men asking the exact same question with the exact same worried tone.
"Everything's perfect," I said, moving toward Sebastian's wheelchair. "The baby's growing well."
Luna echoed my words, though her voice carried a hint of that earlier bitterness. "All measurements normal. Can we go now?"
Michael stepped forward to help Luna with her coat, his movements precise and controlled, yet I caught the way his hand lingered at the small of her back. Sebastian watched this interaction with sharp eyes before turning his attention to me.
"You look tired," he said, his voice dropping to that particular register that meant he was cataloging every detail of my appearance. "We should get you home."
"I'm fine," I assured him.
Marcus appeared as if summoned, ready to help Sebastian into the car.
In our own car, Sebastian pulled me against his side, his hand immediately finding its way to my belly.
"What's wrong?" I asked, turning to study his profile. His jaw was set in that particular way that meant he was wrestling with something he didn't want to admit.
"Nothing," he said, but the word came out clipped.
"Sebastian."
He was silent for a long moment, then: "You called him handsome."
I blinked, trying to follow his leap in logic. "Who?"
"Michael Cross." His voice had dropped to that dangerous register I knew so well. "You said he was looking well. You complimented him."
"I was being polite—and Luna complimented you too!" I protested. "She literally called you 'unfairly handsome even sitting down.'"
"That's different."
There was something almost endearing about his petulance. "You're not allowed to call other men handsome. Or well-looking. Or any aesthetic compliment whatsoever."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't quite hide my smile. "Fine. No more complimenting other men's appearances. Happy?"
"Moderately," he grumbled, but his thumb had resumed its gentle circles on my belly.
We rode in silence for a moment before I ventured, "My birthday's coming up next week."
His hand stilled. "I know."
"I was thinking of inviting my father." I watched his face carefully. "Just for dinner. Nothing elaborate."
He didn't respond to the last part, his expression carefully neutral. After a moment, he said, "You should call him first. See if he's available."
"I was just thinking the same thing. I just..." I frowned, pulling out my phone. "I haven't heard from him much lately. "
I typed quickly: Dad, my birthday is next Saturday. Would love, if you could come. Miss you.
The message showed as delivered just as Marcus pulled up to the manor.
We were barely through the door when my phone rang, my father's name lighting up the screen.
"That was fast," Sebastian murmured.
I answered, "Dad?"
"Elena, sweetheart." His voice was heavy with exhaustion, and something else I couldn't quite place. "I just saw your message. About your birthday..."
My heart sank at his tone. I already knew what was coming.
"I'm so sorry, but I can't make it." The words tumbled out in a rush. "Rebecca's taken a bad turn. The doctors say it's critical now. I need to stay with her."
"Of course," I said automatically, even as disappointment settled like lead in my stomach. "I understand."
"I'm truly sorry, Elena. You know I'd be there if I could—"
"It's fine, Dad." The lie came easily, practiced from years of being second choice. "Rebecca needs you."
After I hung up, I stood there staring at the phone, trying to process not just the disappointment but the nagging sense that something was off.
"He's not coming," Sebastian stated rather than asked.
I shook my head, still frowning at the black screen. "He says Rebecca's worse. That he needs to stay and take care of her."
"But?"
I looked up at him, grateful that he could read me so well. "But something's strange. He's never been this... devoted to her. Even when they first married, he was never the doting husband type. And now suddenly he can't leave her side?"
Sebastian's eyes sharpened. "You think something else is going on."
"I don't know. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but..." I worried, my lower lip. "Could you look into it? Just to make sure he's okay?"
Sebastian didn't hesitate. "I'll have Marcus put someone on it tonight."
He pulled me against him, his hand gentle on my back. "We'll find out what's really going on."
"Thank you," I whispered against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I know I might be overreacting—"
"You're not," he said firmly. "Trust your instincts. If something feels wrong about your father's situation, we investigate. "
That night, I couldn't settle.
I'd tried everything—a warm bath, the pregnancy meditation app Luna had recommended, even counting the baroque ceiling moldings in our bedroom. Nothing worked.
"Can't sleep?" His voice came through the darkness, tinged with concern.
"No." I rolled over to face him, tucking myself against his chest. "My mind won't stop spinning."
"About your father?"
I nodded and pressed closer, needing the solid reassurance of him. "Will you read to me?"
"When I was little and couldn't sleep, my parents would tell me stories," I admitted, feeling oddly vulnerable sharing this piece of my childhood. "My mother would make up tales about princesses and dragons, and my father would read from whatever book was nearby, even his boring work documents. It always helped."
I felt him shift, and when he spoke, his voice had softened with that particular tenderness he reserved only for me. "What would you like me to read, little one?"
The endearment, rarely used, made my throat tight. "Anything. "
He reached for the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over his features.
"International Financial Regulations?" He held up the leather-bound volume with a hint of amusement.