chapter 186
Elena's POV:
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains as I backed home and watched Evander sleeping peacefully in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.
Luna's brush with death had left me shaken, making me acutely aware of how fragile life could be—how quickly everything we held dear could slip away.
I traced a finger along Evander's soft cheek, marveling at how this little person had actually come from my own body.
Life truly was a miracle—this perfect, breathing creature had grown inside me, and now here he was, separate yet forever connected.
Every decision, every thought seemed to orbit around him now. When would he take his first steps? Say his first words? Would he inherit Sebastian's intensity or my quieter nature?
But as I stood there in the nursery Sebastian had designed with such meticulous care, a different thought crept in: my life couldn't revolve entirely around my son forever.
He would grow, become independent, build his own world. And then what would be left of me?
The thought of returning to traditional work held little appeal. The rigid schedules, the time away from Evander—it all seemed impossible to reconcile with motherhood. Yet I couldn't shake the restlessness building inside me, the creative energy that had nowhere to go.
I found Sebastian in his study that evening, bent over financial reports with his reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked up as I entered, immediately setting aside his work.
"Everything alright?" His eyes swept over me, checking for signs of distress—a habit he'd developed since my pregnancy.
"I've been thinking," I began, settling into the chair across from his desk. "About work."
His expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "You're still recovering—"
"I've recovered long enough." I took a breath, gathering my courage. "I want to open my own atelier. A perfume workshop."
The words hung between us. I watched emotions flicker across his face—surprise, calculation, and something else I couldn't quite identify.
"Your own business." It wasn't a question, more like he was testing the words.
"Something small," I rushed to explain. "Where I can control my hours, work around Evander's schedule. I could develop new fragrances, take on select clients..." I trailed off, suddenly uncertain. "Unless you think it's too soon?"
Sebastian was quiet for a long moment, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into a small smile.
"Tell me what you need."
Relief flooded through me. "Really?"
"Did you think I'd say no?" He stood, rounding the desk to pull me up into his arms. "Evander doesn't change your position in my life, Elena. You'll always come first to me."
My throat tightened with emotion. "Sebastian—"
"I'm glad to see you're not sacrificing everything you are for motherhood," he continued, his hands warm on my waist. "You're an artist, a creator. That shouldn't disappear just because you're also a mother now."
Tears pricked at my eyes. "You're the best husband in the world," I said, meaning every word.
His expression softened with something between amusement and genuine pleasure. "I'll remind you of that the next time you're annoyed with me."
We spent the next hour discussing logistics, Sebastian's business acumen transforming my vague dreams into actionable plans. He suggested locations, warned about regulatory requirements, even proposed interviewing architects who specialized in laboratory spaces.
"We should have something operational within a month," he concluded, already reaching for his phone to text Marcus.
"A month?" I blinked. "Sebastian, these things take time—"
"Not when I'm handling it." The arrogance in his tone was softened by the warmth in his eyes. "Besides, the sooner you have your workshop, the sooner you'll stop looking so restless."
I hadn't realized my dissatisfaction had been so obvious. "You knew?"
"Elena." He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I know every expression that crosses your face. "
"I'm so lucky to have married you," I said softly, genuinely moved by his understanding.
His eyes darkened with mischief. "Then perhaps you can make me equally... fortunate tonight?"
Heat flooded my cheeks at his deliberate play on words. "Sebastian!"
"What? I'm simply hoping for mutual happiness in our marriage." His innocent tone didn't match the wicked gleam in his eyes.
I buried my burning face against his chest, feeling his laughter rumble through him.
---
A week flew by in a whirlwind of activity.
Sebastian, true to his word, had thrown the full weight of his resources behind my project.
I stood now in what would soon be my workshop, watching contractors install ventilation systems while Sebastian discussed electrical requirements with the foreman.
"The extraction system needs to be pharmaceutical grade," Sebastian was saying, his tone leaving no room for compromise. "My wife will be working with volatile compounds. Safety is non-negotiable."
"The storage room will need climate control," I added, joining them. "Some of my materials are temperature sensitive."
The foreman nodded, making notes. "We can install a specialized HVAC system. It'll add to the timeline—"
"The timeline remains unchanged," Sebastian cut in smoothly. "Hire additional crews if necessary."
After the workers left for the day, we stood alone in the empty space.
Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunlight, and I could almost see it—my workbench by the window, shelves lined with amber bottles, the air rich with the scent of creation.
"Happy?" Sebastian asked, watching me turn in slow circles.
"It's beginning to feel real." I moved to the window, looking out at the tree-lined street. "My own space. My own business."
"Your own empire," he corrected, coming to stand behind me. His arms encircled my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Start small if you like, but I know you, Elena. You'll build something extraordinary."
I leaned back against him, allowing myself a moment to savor this—the promise of independence backed by unwavering support. "What about you? This must be taking time from Blackstone..."
"I've been thinking about that." His voice turned contemplative. "Adrian's proven himself capable. Perhaps it's time I stepped back from day-to-day operations."
I turned in his arms, startled. "You? Step back from work?"