Chapter 178
Nora's POV
I woke to pale morning light filtering through the curtains, the dull ache in my lower abdomen a distant echo of last night's intensity. The cramping had subsided to a faint pressure, the sharp pulls in my back reduced to manageable stiffness.
I turned my head. Julian lay beside me, propped on one elbow, silver eyes warm with something between amusement and concern.
"How are you feeling?" His voice carried the rough edge of interrupted sleep.
"Better." My throat felt scratchy. "Not like yesterday."
His hand found my forehead first, checking for fever, then moved to press gently against my lower abdomen through the blanket. "Here?"
"Just a little heavy. Doesn't hurt anymore."
I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes, darker than they should be. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
He didn't deny it. "You shifted around a few times. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
The simplicity of his answer struck something deep in my chest. As if monitoring my sleep, ensuring my comfort, was just another part of his day.
I reached for his hand resting on the covers. "You should've slept."
His fingers tightened around mine. "I did sleep. Just... lightly."
The morning quiet stretched between us, comfortable and easy. No urgency, no performance. Just us, breathing in sync, his thumb tracing idle circles on my palm.
After a moment, he shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Since you're feeling better," he said, mouth quirking, "I think you owe me compensation for all that round-the-clock care."
I blinked. "Compensation?"
"Laundry. Massage. Cooking porridge." He leaned in, breath warm against my cheek. "I'd say that deserves some gratitude."
"You're ridiculous." But I was smiling despite myself.
"Am I?" He caught my wrists, pinning them gently to the pillow on either side of my head. "Because last night, you were pretty demanding. Wouldn't let go of me for a second."
Heat flooded my face. "That was—I wasn't conscious—"
"Doesn't make it any less true." His grin widened as he dipped his head, brushing his lips across mine in a teasing kiss. "You got your way all night. Now it's my turn."
I squirmed beneath him, more embarrassed than genuinely trying to escape. "Julian—"
He released my wrists, pulling me against his chest instead. "Alright, alright. I'll stop."
I pressed my face into his shoulder, inhaling the scent distinctly his—woodsy, grounding. His heartbeat thrummed steady beneath my ear, a rhythm I was learning to rely on.
"Thank you," I murmured. "For everything."
His arms tightened fractionally. "Always."
---
We stayed like that for a while, tangled together under the covers, until Julian finally shifted and sat up. His expression had gone serious, the playful edge replaced by something heavier.
"Nora." He adjusted his position so I could see his face clearly. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
My stomach tightened reflexively. "What is it?"
He paused, as if weighing his words. "In a few days, I want to take you to Aetheria. To meet my parents."
The air left my lungs in a rush. "Meet... your parents?"
He nodded, his gaze steady and unflinching. "I want them to know I've found the person I'm going to spend my life with."
The words hung between us, blunt and undeniable. This wasn't a casual suggestion. This was a formal declaration, the kind that preceded rings and vows and legal contracts.
My pulse kicked into overdrive. "Julian, that's—"
"I know it's soon," he cut in gently. "But I'm not asking you to marry me tomorrow. I'm asking you to let me introduce you to my family. Properly."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. A dozen anxieties swirled through my mind at once—what his parents would think of me, whether I'd say something wrong, whether they'd see me as an outsider trying to claw her way into their world.
Julian must have read the panic in my face, because he pulled me back into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Hey. Don't spiral."
I swallowed. "Will they accept me?"
"They will." His voice was calm, certain. "My mother will love you. You're smart, independent, principled—those are the qualities she values most."
"And your father?"
A slight hesitation. "If he has concerns, my mother will handle him. In our family, my father has authority over policy. But when it comes to our happiness—my mother has the final say."
I absorbed this information.
"What do I need to bring?" I asked finally, my voice small. "Gifts? Should I dress a certain way?"
Julian's mouth curved into a soft smile. "Just be yourself. I'll handle the gifts. As for clothes—wear what you normally wear. I don't want you pretending to be someone else."
The knot in my chest loosened slightly. He wasn't asking me to transform into a polished society wife. He just wanted me—awkward, stubborn, perpetually caffeinated me—to show up.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll go."
His arms tightened around me, relief flickering across his face.
---
At nine-thirty, we finally left the house.
I felt lighter than I had in days. The cramping had faded to a dull background hum, and the anxiety from yesterday—the fear of being inadequate, of not measuring up—had dissolved under Julian's steady reassurance.
Then I saw her.
Annabel stood near the gate. Her eyes betrayed exhaustion—and something harder. Resentment, maybe. Or desperation.
I stiffened. Julian's hand squeezed mine once, a silent reassurance, before he nodded at her.
"Annabel."
She straightened, her gaze flicking between us. "Mr. Sterling. Miss Grey."
Her voice was polite, almost mechanical. But the way her eyes lingered on our joined hands told me everything.
Julian's tone was cool, professional. "You know what to do."
There was a pause. Then, slowly, deliberately, Annabel bent at the waist—a formal bow.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice was quiet but clear. "I shouldn't have said those things to you, Miss Grey. I let my emotions control me, and I took my frustrations out on you. That was wrong."
She straightened, meeting my eyes. "I know an apology doesn't erase what I said. But I wanted you to know—I'm ashamed of how I acted. What's between you and Inspector Sterling is none of my business. I had no right to judge."
I stood there, caught off guard by the sheer formality of it. This wasn't a casual "sorry." This was a public acknowledgment of wrongdoing, delivered with the kind of precision that suggested Julian had warned her exactly what to say.
After a moment, I spoke. "I accept your apology."
Annabel's shoulders sagged slightly, relief flickering across her face.
But I wasn't done.
"Actually," I said, "I should thank you."
Her head lifted, confusion replacing relief.
I took a breath. "What you said yesterday—it was cruel. But it also forced me to confront something I'd been avoiding."
I glanced at Julian, then back at her. "I used to second-guess myself constantly. I worried about what people thought, whether I was good enough, whether I deserved to be here. But your words made me realize something."
I straightened my spine, holding her gaze. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. What matters is what we think—Julian and me. He didn't choose me because I 'deserve' him. He chose me because we need each other. We see each other. And no one else's opinion changes that."
Annabel stared at me, her expression unreadable.
Julian's hand tightened around mine, and when I looked up at him, I saw pride gleaming in his eyes. He didn't say anything—he didn't need to. The slight smile tugging at his mouth said it all.
I turned back to Annabel. "So thank you. For reminding me that the only approval I need is my own."
For a long moment, she just stood there. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"You're right." Her voice was softer now, almost bitter. "I hope... I hope you're both happy."
She turned and walked away.
Julian watched her go, then looked down at me. "That was well done."
"I meant it." I exhaled, feeling something settle in my chest. "I really did."
He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I know."