Chapter 151 I Literally Just Stood Up

Chapter 151 I Literally Just Stood Up
Amelia pressed the elephant’s foot one more time.

Its oversized ears lifted, folding dramatically over its eyes as the little song began again.

Bryson groaned beside her.

“Three.”

Amelia looked up at him innocently. “Three what?”

“Times I’ve heard that song.”

“You’re counting?”

“Absolutely.”

She hugged the elephant against her chest. “That’s actually concerning.”

“What’s concerning is that thing has been in my home for ten minutes and I already know the chorus.”

Marcus laughed from across the room. “I knew I should’ve taken the batteries out.”

Amelia gasped, clutching the elephant tighter. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m staying out of it,” Marcus said, holding both hands up.

“You started it,” Bryson reminded him.

“And now I’m removing myself from the situation.”

Amelia looked down at the elephant, smoothing one of its enormous ears. “Ignore them. You’re perfect.”

Bryson stared at his her \`for a moment before shaking his head.

“I'm competing with a stuffed animal.”

“You’re losing, too.”

That earned another round of laughter.

Eventually, the evening began winding down on its own.

Coffee mugs sat empty or nearly empty across the table. Torn wrapping paper had collected around their feet, Christmas-colored crinkle paper had somehow migrated halfway across the living room, and the white wooden chest stood open beside the sofa, nearly empty now except for a few stubborn pieces of red and gold paper clinging to its corners.

Amelia looked around at the mess and laughed.

“Okay. We destroyed this room.”

“We?” Bruce repeated as he stood. “Interesting use of the word.”

Amelia pointed at him. “You participated.”

“I drank coffee.”

“You opened a present.”

“Still doesn't explain why there's paper under the piano.”

Everyone looked.

There was, in fact, paper under the piano.

Cole immediately pointed at Ethan. “Him.”

“Why would that be me?”

“Because I watched you throw it.”

“I tossed it toward the box.”

“You missed by fifteen feet.”

“That seems exaggerated.”

“It’s under the piano, Ethan.”

Maya laughed as she climbed to her feet. “I'll get it.”

“No, you won't.” Martina caught her sister lightly by the sleeve. “You and I are getting all of this before somebody finds crinkle paper in July.”

Maya looked around the room. “Honestly, I feel like that's going to happen anyway.”

“Probably,” Samantha agreed.

Amelia set Marcus’s elephant carefully beside the handmade baby blanket and started to rise.

Bryson stood with her automatically.

She had barely straightened before the room shifted.

Not violently.

Just enough.

The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet, the lights blurring at the edges of her vision.

“Oh—”

Her hand reached blindly for something solid.

Bryson caught her before she found it.

“Amelia.”

His arm went around her waist at the exact same moment another hand closed gently around her forearm.

Marcus.

He had crossed the space so quickly Amelia hadn't even seen him move.

“I’m okay,” she said immediately, closing her eyes.

“No, you're dizzy.” Bryson's voice had changed completely.

“Just for a second.”

Marcus was already studying her face. “Sit down.”

“I literally just stood up.”

“And now you're sitting back down.”

Amelia opened her eyes and looked at him.

Marcus didn't smile.

Bryson was no better.

Between the two men, she apparently had no vote whatsoever.

“Both of you are extremely bossy.”

“Sit,” they said together.

Amelia blinked.

Cole snorted from somewhere behind them.

Bryson and Marcus looked at each other.

Marcus immediately released her arm and stepped back half a pace, apparently realizing he'd just issued an order to Bryson Hearst's pregnant wife at the same time as her husband.

Amelia, however, started laughing.

“Oh, this is going to be a long pregnancy.”

Bryson guided her back onto the sofa and crouched in front of her.

“How dizzy?”

“Baby, I'm fine.”

“That wasn't my question.”

She sighed. “A little. Everything moved for maybe two seconds. It stopped already.”

His hand came to her cheek, eyes searching her face. “Nauseous?”

“No.”

“Cramping?”

“No.”

“Anything hurt?”

“Nothing hurts.”

Marcus remained beside the sofa, his attention still fixed on her.

“Headache?” he asked.

Amelia looked up at him.

“No.”

“You eat enough on the plane?”

She thought about it.

Bryson's eyes narrowed.

Amelia frowned. “Don't look at me like that.”

“That means no.”

“I ate.”

“You picked at food,” Bryson corrected.

“There's a difference?”

“Yes.”

Bruce was already heading toward the kitchen.

“I'll get her some water and cut up some fruit.”

“Bruce, you don't have to—”

He didn't even turn around. “Sit there.”

Amelia's mouth fell open.

Another laugh went through the room.

“Wow.” She looked around. “So nobody works for me anymore?”

“Nope,” Ethan said, gathering mugs from the coffee table. “Baby outranks you now.”

Cole stacked another two cups into his hands. “You had a good run, Mrs. Hearst.”

Bryson stood and looked down at her with entirely too much satisfaction.

“You heard them.”

“Don't encourage this.”

Samantha was already walking toward the hallway. “I'll get your bath ready.”

Amelia turned. “Sam, seriously, I can—”

“I know you can.” Samantha smiled over her shoulder. “But you don't have to.”

That quieted Amelia.

Samantha's smile softened. “Go upstairs when you're ready. I'll make sure it's not too hot.”

“Thank you.”

Martina and Maya began gathering the wrapping paper while Ethan and Cole carried the mugs toward the kitchen, still arguing about who had somehow launched paper beneath the piano.

Evan grabbed the empty gift boxes, stacking them beneath one arm.

Bryson leaned down and kissed Amelia's forehead.

“You stay here.”

She looked up at him. “Where are you going?”

“To help clean up the mess you apparently didn't make.”

“I said we destroyed the room.”

“And Bruce disputed your contribution.”

“Bruce is rude.”

From the kitchen came Bruce's voice.

“I can hear you.”

“Good!”

Bryson laughed and kissed her forehead again before moving toward the table.

Within moments, the room that had been gathered tightly around the white chest scattered into smaller pockets of movement.

And Amelia stayed exactly where everyone had ordered her to stay.

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

Then she noticed Marcus.

He hadn't moved.

He stood several feet away, holding a handful of discarded wrapping paper he clearly had forgotten he was holding.

And he was still watching her.

Amelia's smile slowly faded.

Not because his attention frightened her.

Because she had noticed it before.

More than once.

Marcus always seemed to know where she was.

When she entered a room, his eyes found her.

When she stood, his attention shifted.

When they were outside, he positioned himself differently depending on where she walked. If someone approached unexpectedly, Marcus noticed before anyone else.

Even tonight, while everyone had been laughing and exchanging gifts, she'd caught his eyes moving.

Elevator.

Windows.

Hallway.

Her.

Then back again.

She'd always assumed it was his job.

But the speed with which he'd reached her just now...

That had been something else.

“Marcus.”

His gaze immediately returned to hers.

“Yeah?”

She patted the empty space beside her.

“Come here for a second.”

He hesitated.

Only briefly.

Then he dropped the wrapping paper into the nearby bag and walked over. Instead of sitting beside her, he lowered himself into the chair angled nearest the sofa.

Amelia studied him.

Marcus noticed.

“What?”

“You've been watching me.”

His expression barely changed.

But she saw it.

A small shift behind his eyes.

“I watch everybody.”

“No, you don't.”

That got the faintest smile from him.

“Occupational hazard.”

“Marcus.”

The smile disappeared.

Amelia kept her voice low. Everyone else was moving around them now—water running in the kitchen, Maya and Martina talking quietly as they gathered paper, Cole laughing at something Ethan said. Bryson stood near the dining table with Evan, close enough for Amelia to see him but far enough that the conversation belonged to her and Marcus.

She tilted her head.

“I'm not complaining. I want you to know that first.”

Marcus nodded once.

“But lately...” She searched his face. “You always know where I am.”

He looked down at his hands.

“When I stand up, you look. If I walk across a room, you look. If somebody comes near me, you notice. And just now, I don't even know how you got across that room that fast.”

Marcus breathed out slowly.

Amelia's voice softened.

“It's gotten stronger since I got pregnant, hasn't it?”

His eyes lifted to hers.

There it was.

Not confirmation in words.

Something deeper.

Amelia's expression changed.

“Oh.”

Marcus rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I'm sorry if I've been overbearing.”

“That isn't what I said.”

“I know.”

“Then don't apologize for something I didn't accuse you of.”

For a second, he simply looked at her.

Then a small, genuine smile touched his mouth.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Don't ‘ma'am’ me either.”

That earned a quiet laugh.

But it disappeared quickly.

Marcus leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees.

“I know I've been more alert.”

“Why?”

His eyes moved toward the kitchen.

Not to evade her.

To make sure no one was listening.

When he looked back, the sadness in his expression caught Amelia completely off guard.

Marcus was always steady.

Quiet.

Controlled.

She had seen him angry. Alert. Amused. Irritated.

She had never seen him look wounded.

“There's a reason,” he said.

Amelia waited.

His thumb moved slowly against his palm.

“A pretty big one.”

“Okay.”

He looked at her for several seconds.

Then shook his head.

“It's just not a story I want to put on Christmas.”

The words were quiet.

Final, but not dismissive.

Amelia's face softened immediately.

She didn't ask another question.

“Then don't.”

Marcus seemed surprised.

“You don't have to tell me tonight,” she continued. “I was curious because I noticed. That's all.”

He nodded, but his eyes dropped again.

Amelia watched him for a moment.

“Is it something I should be worried about?”

His head came up immediately.

“No.”

The answer was so quick, so certain, that she believed him.

“No,” he repeated more gently. “Nothing like that. You're safe.”

There was that word again.

Safe.

Not fine.

Not it's nothing.

Safe.

Amelia nodded.

“Okay.”

Marcus leaned back slightly.

“But I will tell you.”

“You don't owe me an explanation.”

“I know.” His gaze held hers. “I still want you to understand.”

Something tightened unexpectedly in Amelia's chest.

She smiled.

“Then whenever you're ready.”

Marcus nodded.

“Just not Christmas.”

“Not Christmas,” she agreed.

For a moment, neither said anything.

Then Bruce appeared beside them with a tall glass of water and a plate filled with strawberries, apple slices, grapes and orange wedges.

He held them toward Amelia.

“Eat.”

She stared at him.

Bruce stared back.

Marcus's mouth twitched.

Amelia accepted the plate.

“You know, there was a time when people in this house pretended I was in charge.”

Bruce handed her the water.

“We were humoring you.”

Marcus laughed.

Amelia pointed a strawberry at him. “Don't think because you're having an emotional mystery over there that you're safe.”

That made Marcus laugh harder.

And just like that, the heaviness eased.

But as Amelia bit into the strawberry, she looked at him once more.

Marcus had already glanced toward the elevator.

Then the hallway.

Then back to her.

Checking.

Always checking.

Only now, Amelia knew for certain that it wasn't merely training.

Something had happened to Marcus.

Something connected to the way he watched over her now.

And when he was ready, she would listen.