chapter 189
Elena's POV:
The next morning.
I woke to the memory of my wedding playing behind my eyelids—a vision so vivid it felt more like prophecy than dream.
White roses cascading down cathedral steps, Sebastian's eyes finding mine across a sea of faces, the weight of his ring sliding onto my finger as if it had always belonged there.
In the dream, I'd whispered something at the altar that made him smile—that rare, unguarded smile that transformed his whole face from dangerous to devastatingly beautiful.
My cheeks burned as consciousness fully returned. God, what had I said in my sleep? Sebastian was already awake, propped on one elbow, watching me with barely contained amusement.
"Good morning, Mrs. Vane," he murmured, voice rich with satisfaction. "Sleep well?"
I buried my face in the pillow, mortified. "Did I say anything in my dream?"
"Oh, you said plenty." His fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. "Something about how handsome I'd look in a morning coat. Very specific opinions about the flower arrangements. And I believe there was mention of—"
"Stop." I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. "I'm never sleeping again."
His laughter rumbled through the mattress as he tugged the blanket down, exposing my flushed face. "For what it's worth, I found it charming. Though I had no idea you felt so strongly about orchids versus peonies."
I risked a glance at him. His eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, not mockery. Still, the vulnerability of having my subconscious desires laid bare made me squirm.
"It was just a dream," I mumbled, sitting up and reaching for my robe. "Probably brought on by too much wedding talk yesterday."
"Hmm." He caught my wrist gently, preventing my escape. "Just a dream? Because it sounded like you'd given our wedding considerable thought."
The truth was, I had. What it would be like to walk down an aisle toward him by choice, to say vows I truly meant, to dance with him while our friends celebrated around us.
But admitting that felt too much like surrender.
"Everyone thinks about their wedding sometimes," I said, aiming for casual and missing by miles. "It doesn't mean anything."
Sebastian studied me for a long moment, then pressed a kiss to my temple. "If you say so."
He released my hand and rolled out of bed, stretching with feline grace.
I tried not to stare at the play of muscles across his back, the way the morning light gilded his skin. Even after all this time, the sight of him could still steal my breath.
"I'll drive you to the studio today," he said, heading for the shower.
"Alright," I agreed softly, pulling the covers up to my chin as if they could somehow shield me from the memory of my unconscious confessions.
I shook off the thought and went to get dressed. I had a company to run, a reputation to build. I couldn't afford to get lost in romantic fantasies, no matter how my traitorous subconscious felt about it.
But as I chose my outfit for the day, I couldn't quite silence the voice in my head that whispered: Maybe I should start dressing up more. What if he suddenly decides to propose properly?
By the time I made it downstairs, Sebastian had already laid out breakfast: fresh croissants, fruit salad, and that expensive yogurt I'd mentioned liking exactly once.
He looked up from his financial papers as I entered, and something warm flickered in his eyes.
"You look beautiful," he said simply, pulling out my chair.
"Thank you." I settled in, accepting the coffee he poured. "I just grabbed whatever was clean."
The dress was clearly not a 'whatever was clean' choice—it was pressed, perfectly fitted, and we both knew it was from the designer section of my closet.
"Of course," he said, his tone suggesting he didn't believe a word.
I focused intently on my croissant, face heating. "It's an important meeting day."
"Mm-hmm." He was definitely smiling now. I could hear it in his voice. "And the earrings? Also randomly selected?"
"I always wear earrings," I said defensively, even though these were the diamond drops he'd given me for my birthday—the ones I'd carefully saved for special occasions.
"You're wearing perfume too," he observed. "The one I mentioned liking."
"It's a perfume studio! I always wear perfume!"
He held up his hands in surrender, though his eyes still danced with amusement. "You're right. I'm reading too much into it. "
I nodded stiffly, returning to my breakfast while trying to ignore how his casual dismissal somehow stung more than his teasing.
The rest of the morning passed without incident. He drove me to work, the comfortable silence between us filled with classical music from the radio. When we arrived at the studio, he simply squeezed my hand and reminded me he'd pick me up at six.
The day flew by in a whirlwind of meetings and formula adjustments.
I managed to push all thoughts of dreams and weddings aside, losing myself in the familiar rhythms of work. My team was professional and focused—Henri included, who seemed determined to pretend yesterday's embarrassment had never happened.
By five-thirty, I was deep in discussion with our packaging designer when Sarah poked her head into my office.
"Your husband's here," she announced with a grin that suggested she'd been watching for him. "He's in the lobby chatting with reception. Should I tell him you'll be a few more minutes?"
I glanced at the samples spread across my desk, then at the clock. He was early.
"I'll go down," I decided, gathering my things. "We can finish this tomorrow."
As I descended the stairs, I could see Sebastian through the glass doors, leaning against the reception desk like he belonged there.
He looked up as I approached, and something in his expression made my stomach flutter unexpectedly.
"You're early," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Couldn't wait," he replied simply, taking my coat from the rack and helping me into it. His fingers brushed my neck as he adjusted the collar, and I shivered.
"We're not going straight home tonight," he added, guiding me toward the exit with a hand on the small of my back.
I stopped walking, turning to look up at him. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere special." His expression gave nothing away, but there was something in his eyes that made my pulse quicken.
My heart began to hammer against my ribs.
Was this it? Was he finally going to...? The morning's dream came rushing back, along with all my careful primping, and suddenly the diamond earrings felt heavy with significance.