chapter 129
Elena's POV:
I had seen the effort it cost him. The pain he refused to acknowledge. The fear that he might never again be the man who could sweep me into his arms and carry me up flights of stairs.
I rose and crossed to him, ignoring Dr. Harrison's presence. Cupping Sebastian's face in my hands, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his forehead, tasting salt and determination.
"You're magnificent," I whispered against his skin.
His hands came up to grip my wrists—not to push me away, but to hold me there. "Liar," he murmured back. "But keep telling me anyway."
The doctor cleared his throat. "Same time tomorrow, Mr. Vane. You're pushing yourself hard, but the results speak for themselves."
After he left, Sebastian tugged me down until I was sitting across his lap, my belly making the position slightly awkward but not uncomfortable. His arms came around me, one hand splaying possessively across the swell where our children grew.
"You didn't need to see that," he said quietly.
"Yes, I did." I traced the line of his jaw, feeling the muscle jump under my touch. "I need to see all of you. Not just the parts you think are acceptable."
He caught my hand, pressing my palm flat against his chest where his heart beat steady and strong. "What did I do to deserve you?"
---
After lunch—during which Sebastian fed me bites from his plate while insisting he wasn't hungry, fooling no one—we retired to the master suite.
The afternoon stretched lazy and golden before us, a rare moment of peace in what had been a tumultuous year.
I curled against his side on the bed, my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand traced absent patterns on my belly, pausing whenever he felt movement beneath his palm.
"The guy is active today," he murmured.
"Maybe because our baby knows father's here," I said softly, then jumped when my phone rang on the nightstand.
"Elena! Where are you?" Luna's voice came through, sounding mildly exasperated. "Didn't we agree to do our checkups together today? I'm already at the hospital!"
I bolted upright, frantically checking the date on my phone. "Oh God, that's today? Luna, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot—"
I smacked my palm against my forehead in frustration. "Pregnancy brain is making me so forgetful lately."
"We'll be there in twenty minutes," I told Luna before hanging up.
Sebastian caught my wrist before I could hit myself again. "Don't make yourself any dumber," he said dryly, though his grip was gentle.
"Would you not like me if I were dumb?" I asked, half-joking.
He gave me that long-suffering look he'd perfected lately, lips quirking into a reluctant smile. "I'd like you no matter what. Smart, dumb, covered in ice cream—doesn't matter."
His answer filled me with warmth, and I couldn't help the satisfied smile that spread across my face. I leaned down to press a quick kiss to his jaw before scrambling to get ready.
The ride to the hospital was quick.
As soon as we arrived, Luna descended upon us, her own prominent belly leading the charge. "Finally! I was starting to think— Oh." She stopped mid-sentence, taking in Sebastian's wheelchair with a quick sweep of her gaze. "Well, aren't you still unfairly handsome, even sitting down. Some men have all the luck."
"Michael's looking well too," I added politely, nodding at Luna's husband, who stood stiffly beside her.
Luna grabbed my arm, already pulling me toward the examination rooms while launching into her latest gossip.
I glanced back to see both men already locked in a silent glaring match, their expressions equally hostile as they sized each other up like rivals before a duel.
In the waiting area, they were facing each other with all the enthusiasm of two territorial cats.
This was going to be a long appointment.
Inside the examination room, Luna perched on the edge of the examination table while I took the chair beside it. The nurse had said the doctor would be with us shortly, leaving us in that peculiar limbo of medical waiting rooms.
"You know what I discovered last week?" Luna said, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper even though we were alone. "Michael hasn't been able to sleep without medication since his mother died. Except—"
She paused, her hand unconsciously moving to her belly. "Except when I'm next to him. He can fall asleep naturally then."
She gave a bitter laugh. "That's why he married me, Elena. I'm literally just his human sleeping pill. How's that for romantic?"
I could see the hurt in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped with the weight of this revelation.
But something about her conclusion seemed backwards to me. Wasn't it more likely that he could sleep beside her because he loved her, because she made him feel safe enough to let his guard down? Not that he'd married her as some sort of pharmaceutical substitute.
"Maybe you could try looking at it from a different angle," I suggested gently. "What if—"
The door opened then, and the doctor walked in with a bright smile, cutting off whatever insight I'd been about to share. Luna straightened immediately, pasting on her society smile as we went through the routine of checkups and measurements.
The interrupted conversation quickly faded from our minds as the routine of measurements and ultrasounds took over.
Luna's eyes lit up when she saw her baby on the monitor, all her earlier melancholy forgotten as she peppered the doctor with questions about the baby's position and development.
I found myself doing the same, comparing notes about weight gain and movement patterns, both of us lost in that peculiar world of expecting mothers where nothing matters quite as much as the tiny lives we're carrying.
Twenty minutes later, we emerged to find our husbands exactly where we'd left them, though the atmosphere had somehow grown even more frigid.
Sebastian's jaw was set in that particular way that meant he was counting backwards from one hundred to avoid saying something cutting. Michael looked equally tense, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on some point above Sebastian's head.
They both turned as we approached.
"How's the baby? Can we go home now?" they asked in perfect unison the moment they saw us, then glared at each other as if the synchronized question was somehow the other's fault.