Chapter 147 Because It Was Theirs

Chapter 147 Because It Was Theirs
By Wednesday, the apartment had started filling with lists.

Not intentionally.

They just… appeared.

A notebook on the kitchen counter with possible wedding dates written in Elena’s handwriting.

A folded paper beside the television with venues Victoria had aggressively rejected.

Three missed calls from Catherine about flowers.

And one deeply alarming message from Aunt Lydia containing seventeen exclamation marks and the phrase live dove release.

Elena deleted that one immediately.

“You didn’t even hesitate,” Alexander observed from the stove.

“She suggested birds.”

“That does feel excessive.”

“She also sent a photo.”

Alexander visibly winced. “Good decision.”

Morning sunlight spilled across the kitchen in long pale strips while coffee brewed behind them.

Leo sat at the table coloring dinosaurs purple because “green is emotionally limiting.”

Nobody argued with him anymore.

Elena closed her laptop after answering one last email.

“You know what worries me?”

Alexander glanced over his shoulder while flipping pancakes.

“The birds?”

“The fact that everyone suddenly has opinions.”

“That’s weddings.”

“No, it’s chaos disguised as organization.”

“Also weddings.”

Leo lifted his head suddenly.

“Can I wear a cape?”

Elena sighed immediately. “Why would you need a cape?”

“For confidence.”

Alexander pointed the spatula toward him.

“That’s actually valid.”

“You’re both impossible.”

“We’re visionary thinkers,” Alexander corrected.

Work stayed busy.

Not dramatic.

Just relentless in the ordinary adult way.

Deadlines. Calls.

Meetings stacked too close together.

The kind of exhaustion that came quietly instead of all at once.

At Thorne Empire, Victoria had fully settled back into command.

Not warmly.

Not softly either.

Efficient.

Controlled.

The entire executive floor seemed to stand straighter around her.

Her assistant, a calm man, walked beside her through the hallway carrying two tablets and somehow keeping pace with her impossible stride.

“The Singapore numbers are updated,” he informed her.

“And legal?”

“Still reviewing.”

Victoria nodded once without slowing.

“Move the investor call to Friday.”

“Already done.”

She finally glanced at him briefly.

“You’re disturbingly competent.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

Inside the boardroom, Alexander was already there reviewing reports.

Suit sleeves rolled slightly.

Reading glasses low against his nose.

Focused enough not to notice Victoria enter immediately.

She stopped near the table.

Studied him for half a second.

Then said dryly:

“You’ve become unbearably corporate.”

Alexander looked up slowly.

“And yet you still arrived early.”

“Unlike you, I enjoy power.”

“You enjoy control.”

“That too.”

She sat across from him while assistants moved quietly around the room preparing for another meeting.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Not because things were tense anymore.

Because silence no longer needed fixing constantly.

Victoria finally leaned back slightly.

“You seem happier.”

Alexander blinked once.

Not expecting that.

“You’re terrible at subtle conversation.”

“I’m busy.”

He looked down briefly at the reports in front of him.

Then honest as always with her:

“I think I am happier.”

Victoria watched him carefully for a second.

“Elena?”

“Partly.”

“Leo?”

A softer answer this time.

“Mostly.”

Victoria nodded slowly like she understood that completely.

Then after a pause:

“You’re calmer now.”

Alexander almost laughed quietly at that.

“I used to be exhausting.”

“You used to be angry.”

Direct. Not cruel. Just true.

The words settled between them without damage.

Alexander leaned back slightly afterward.

“Do you regret coming back here?”

Victoria looked around the boardroom slowly.

Glass walls.

City skyline.

The company their father built with obsession sharp enough to cut through family.

For years this place had felt heavy to her.

Like inheritance and resentment tied together.

Now?

Different.

Not healed magically.

Just… lighter.

“No,” she admitted quietly.

Then dry again immediately:

“Ask me again after budget season.”

That earned a real laugh from him.

Small. But real.

Across the city, Elena sat through her third meeting of the afternoon trying not to stare at the clock.

Her head hurt slightly.

Not dramatic exhaustion.

Just accumulation.

Too many hours looking at screens.

Too many conversations requiring careful professionalism.

When her phone buzzed once beside her notebook, she glanced down automatically.

Alexander: Have you eaten?

Elena stared at the message for a second before typing back:

Elena:Barely.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Alexander:That’s not food.

She smiled despite herself.

Elena:You sound judgmental.

Alexander:I am judgmental.

Another message followed right after.

Alexander: Eat something before you become meaner than usual.

Elena shook her head softly under her breath.

Her coworker Melissa glanced over curiously.

“Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

Melissa immediately perked up. “Still getting used to saying that?”

Elena paused.

Then unexpectedly smiled.

“A little.”

Because the word still felt new in her mouth somehow.

Fiancé.

Solid. Real. Chosen.

Not temporary.

The meeting resumed before Melissa could interrogate her further.

But Elena still found herself touching the ring absently afterward.

Not because of the diamond.

Because of what it meant.

Someone had chosen her carefully.

Publicly.

Without hesitation.

That still felt unfamiliar enough to ache sometimes.

By evening, rain had started falling across the city.

Soft at first.

Then steadier.

The kind that painted streets gold under headlights.

Alexander picked up Leo from preschool while the little boy complained dramatically about weather ruining “outdoor dinosaur operations.”

“Rain existed before your plans.”

“That feels rude.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Emotionally? Unknown.”

They stopped briefly at a bakery before heading home.

Because apparently Wednesday required pastries now.

By the time Elena arrived back at the apartment later that night, she looked exhausted enough that Alexander took one look at her face and quietly took her bag without asking.

She exhaled slowly while toeing off her shoes near the door.

“That bad?” he asked gently.

“Three meetings. Two revisions. One client who says ‘circle back’ like it’s a personality trait.”

Alexander winced sympathetically.

“Tragic.”

“I almost committed violence.”

“Professionally?”

“Barely.”

Leo appeared from the couch immediately wearing dinosaur pajamas and holding half a pastry.

“Mama!”

Elena softened on instinct the second she saw him.

The exhaustion didn’t disappear.

But it shifted.

Leo ran straight into her arms.

“You smell like rain,” he informed her seriously.

“I was outside.”

“That explains it.”

Alexander watched them quietly from the kitchen doorway.

Sometimes the sight still hit him unexpectedly.

Elena standing there holding Leo against her chest while rain tapped softly against the windows behind them.

Home. Still that word again. Still strange enough to matter.

Elena eventually looked over at him.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I live here. I’m allowed.”

She rolled her eyes faintly.

Then walked toward him carrying Leo.

Alexander leaned down automatically kissing her forehead first.

Then Leo’s.

Routine now.

Natural.

The apartment glowed warm around them while rain blurred the city outside.

Dinner happened slowly after that.

Nothing fancy. Pasta. Bread.

Leo explaining preschool politics with concerning seriousness.

Halfway through the meal he suddenly looked at Elena.

“Are weddings expensive?”

The question arrived so unexpectedly Elena nearly inhaled water wrong.

Alexander looked deeply suspicious immediately.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Mrs. Chen said weddings cost money.”

“That’s true,” Elena admitted carefully.

Leo thought hard about this.

Then:

“I have eleven cent.”

Alexander coughed suddenly into his drink.

Elena pressed her lips together trying not to laugh.

“That’s very generous.”

Leo nodded solemnly.

“For support.”

Alexander finally lost the battle and laughed properly.

And somehow—

sitting there with rain outside and pasta cooling on the table and their three-year-old trying to financially contribute to a wedding—

life felt almost painfully real.

Not polished.

Not perfect.

Better than perfect maybe.

Because it was theirs.