chapter 76
Elena's POV:
"Yes, of course. Please, come in." I stepped aside, trying to recover my composure. "I'm Elena. I've been looking forward to meeting you."
The admission slipped out more honestly than I'd intended, and something knowing flickered in her smile. As if expectant mothers developing strange attachments to their care providers was perfectly normal in her world.
"The feeling is mutual," she said, gliding into the foyer with practiced grace.
"I still can't quite believe Sebastian actually got married—and with a baby on the way, no less. When our mutual connections mentioned it, I thought they were joking."
I remembered Sebastian mentioning that Rose had been a student sponsored by Nicholas's family, that they'd been in the same classes growing up—childhood acquaintances.
My hand hovered near the hallway that led to Sebastian's office, uncertainty gnawing at me. Should I call him? But Nicholas was in there with him, and given what I knew about their history...
Would Rose even want to see Nicholas?
"Should I let Sebastian know you're here?" I asked, testing the waters. "He's in a meeting, but I'm sure he'd want to say hello..."
Something flickered across Rose's face—too quick to read properly. "Oh, please don't interrupt him on my account. I'm here to see you, after all. My client is you."
Relief washed through me, and I felt my shoulders drop from tension. If Nicholas and Rose ran into each other now, in my living room, any chance of a productive conversation about my pregnancy would evaporate into whatever charged history lay between them.
"Would you like something to drink?" I offered, gesturing toward the sofa. "Water? Tea? I could make coffee, though I can't have any myself anymore..."
Rose's laugh was warm and understanding.
"Water would be perfect. And trust me, I know exactly how you feel about the coffee. When I was pregnant with Lily, I used to stand outside café windows just to catch a whiff."
Lily. So she really had a daughter. She'd left while pregnant, carved out a life for herself and her child, and survived. What had been just a story Sebastian told me about Nicholas's past was now flesh and blood in my living room, proof that it could be done.
I busied myself getting water, grateful for the excuse to collect my thoughts.
When I returned, Rose had settled onto the sofa with an ease that suggested she'd made herself at home in countless clients' spaces.
"So," she began, setting down the portfolio she'd been carrying, "why don't you tell me about your pregnancy? Any discomfort, changes, concerns?"
My hand instinctively went to my stomach. "Everything feels different," I admitted. "My body doesn't feel like mine anymore. I'm tired all the time, but I can't sleep properly. Food tastes weird, and the nausea..."
I paused, remembering yesterday's breakdown. "And the emotions—God, the emotions. I can't control them at all. "
Rose nodded knowingly, her expression warm with understanding. "All perfectly normal, especially with the hormonal changes. "
"Let me tell you a bit about what I do," she continued, opening her portfolio. "I'm trained in prenatal massage, nutritional counseling, exercise therapy, and emotional support techniques. Think of me as your pregnancy concierge—whatever you need to feel more comfortable in your body, I can help make it happen."
She walked me through her qualifications with quiet confidence.
"The physical discomfort is often the easiest part to address," she said, closing the portfolio. "May I?" She gestured toward my shoulders.
I nodded, turning slightly.
Her hands were warm through the silk of my blouse, finding knots I didn't know I was carrying.
Within moments, she'd identified every point of tension—the spot between my shoulder blades where anxiety lived, the tightness in my lower back from changing posture, the way I held my neck like I was constantly bracing for impact.
"You're guarding," she observed, working on a particularly stubborn knot. "Your whole upper body is protecting your center. It's instinctive, but exhausting."
Her fingers were strong but gentle, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply. I found myself melting under her touch, the constant vigilance I maintained finally, blessedly, starting to ease.
"Oh," I breathed, as something in my spine seemed to unlock. "That's... that's incredible."
"Most pregnant women don't realize how much tension they carry," Rose explained, moving to work on my neck.
Thirty minutes passed in what felt like seconds. By the time Rose finished, I was practically boneless, slumped against the sofa cushions in a state of blissful relaxation I hadn't experienced in months. Maybe years.
"Better?" she asked, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
"I might never move again," I admitted. "
Rose smiled for a moment before resuming their gentle work on my temples.
As if on cue, my stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, breaking the peaceful silence. I pressed a hand to my abdomen, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm hungry again. That seems to be my constant state these days—either nauseous or ravenous."
Rose smiled warmly. "Another perfectly normal pregnancy symptom. Actually, I brought something that might help."
She reached into her bag and produced a small tin. "I also make specialized cookies for my guests. These are ginger-lemon—they help with morning sickness and provide a nice energy boost."
She opened the tin, and the scent hit me immediately—sharp ginger, bright lemon, a hint of honey. My mouth watered despite myself.
"My daughter Lily absolutely loves them," Rose added, offering me on.
I took one, biting into it cautiously. The flavors burst across my tongue. More importantly, my stomach didn't immediately revolt.
"These are amazing," I said, reaching for another. "Lily has good taste."
Rose's face lit up at the mention of her daughter. "She's such a good girl, never gives me any trouble. My little angel, really."
A wistful smile tugged at my lips. "I hope mine's a girl, too. Then I could have my own little angel."
The alternative made me shudder—a boy with Sebastian's temper, all that intensity and stubbornness condensed into a tiny, demanding package. "God help me if it's a boy with his father's personality..."
"Elena?"
I jumped at Sebastian's voice, nearly dropping the cookie.