chapter 183
Elena's POV:
"You need to think about yourself too, Elena," Victoria continued, her tone shifting from teasing to genuine concern. "When was the last time you truly rested? Not just dozed between feedings, but actually relaxed?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but the truth was, I couldn't remember.
Between Evander's needs, Sebastian's hovering, and my mind constantly spinning with new fragrance ideas, real rest felt like a luxury I couldn't afford.
"I'm managing," I said finally, reaching for a shrimp from the breakfast spread.
Sebastian's hand intercepted mine, taking the shrimp himself. "Let me," he said, his fingers working efficiently to remove the shell.
"I'm perfectly capable of peeling my own shrimp," I protested, but he was already placing the cleaned meat on my plate.
"I know you are." He reached for another, his movements practiced and precise. "Just like I know you're perfectly capable of working on your new collection right now. But being capable doesn't mean you should push yourself."
His gray eyes met mine, serious despite his casual tone. "Your body needs time to heal, Elena. Everything else can wait."
I wanted to argue, but the truth was, even this small gesture of care made something in me soften.
As he worked, I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The constant ache in my lower back had become my unwelcome companion since the third trimester.
Without pausing in his task, Sebastian's free hand found its way to my lower back, his thumb pressing into the exact spot that had been troubling me. I couldn't suppress the small sound of relief that escaped me.
After breakfast concluded and Sebastian reluctantly left to handle some urgent calls, Victoria lingered, pouring herself another cup of tea with deliberate slowness.
"Now then," she said once we were alone, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Let's have a proper chat, woman to woman."
I tensed slightly, recognizing the shift in atmosphere. "About?"
"About marriage. About men. About what happens after the baby arrives." She leaned forward, her eyes intent on mine. "Has Sebastian been... different with you lately? "
The directness of her question caught me off guard. "He's been wonderful, actually. Almost too attentive, if anything."
"Hmm." Victoria studied me carefully.
"That's good, for now. But Elena, you must understand—this is often when men begin to stray. When their wives are exhausted, focused on the baby, when the romance of pregnancy gives way to the reality of dirty diapers and sleepless nights."
I set down my teacup, meeting her gaze steadily. "Are you warning me about Sebastian specifically, or men in general?"
"Both. Neither." She sighed. "I'm telling you what I wish someone had told me. That marriage requires constant vigilance, especially during these vulnerable months."
Something in her tone made me choose my next words carefully. "I appreciate the concern, Victoria. Truly. But I learned long ago that you can't control another person's heart."
I traced the rim of my cup absently. "Whatever happens, happens. I'll survive whatever outcome awaits."
Victoria's expression shifted from concern to something that looked almost like pride. "My dear girl," she said softly. "That's... that's actually the healthiest approach you could take."
She reached across to squeeze my hand. "I was worried you might lose yourself trying to hold onto him, but you're stronger than I gave you credit for."
"Life has taught me that impermanence is the only constant," I replied simply.
"Yes," she agreed, sitting back with a knowing smile. "Well then, I can rest easy knowing you'll handle whatever comes with grace."
The week that followed passed in a blur of feedings and fitful sleep.
Victoria proved to be an unexpected blessing, taking shifts with Evander so I could shower in peace or simply sit in the garden with a cup of tea. She had a natural way with him, singing old lullabies in a surprisingly sweet voice that never failed to quiet his fussing.
On her last morning, she found me in the nursery, trying to rock an overtired Evander to sleep.
"Here," she said softly, easing him from my arms with practiced confidence. "You go have breakfast. I've got him."
I hesitated. "Are you sure? He's been fussy all morning—"
"Go," she insisted gently. "Let me have these last few hours with my great-nephew."
When I returned an hour later, she was sitting in the rocking chair, Evander sleeping peacefully against her chest. She looked up with that slightly rueful expression I was beginning to recognize.
"I'm afraid I'll have to head back to New York tomorrow. A week is already longer than I should have stayed—the family business won't run itself, and certain board members get restless in my absence."
I felt a pang of disappointment. Having her here had been unexpectedly comforting. "I understand. Thank you for staying as long as you did."
"I'll be back," she promised. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away from my great-nephew for long."
The days following Victoria's departure fell into a predictable rhythm.
Mornings were devoted to Evander—feeding, changing, and the precious moments when he was alert and calm, his gray eyes tracking my movements with solemn intensity. Afternoons became my recovery time, with the physical therapist guiding me through exercises to restore my core strength while the massage therapist worked on the persistent aches that seemed to have taken permanent residence in my body.
Evenings... evenings belonged to Sebastian.
He would join me for Evander's bedtime routine, then we'd retreat to our room where he'd massage the lavender oil into my still-tender skin, his hands careful and reverent, while I told him about my day or listened to his updates from the business world he still commanded from a distance.