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“What are you doing?” Audrey couldn’t help asking, startling Yann so badly that he jolted upright from where he was sitting, on the toilet, holding his
tablet.
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In a flash, he stood up.
Realizing something, he hurriedly pulled up his pants. “You go first.”
Audrey stared at him, eyes full of suspicion.
Yann froze for a second before stepping forward to support her. “There’s water on the floor. I’ll help you to the other bathroom.”
But Audrey didn’t move. She twisted her body, staying where she was, her gaze locked on the tablet still in his hand. Music was still playing from it. “What were you doing?”
“Nothing. Just browsing,” Yann replied quickly, setting the tablet down on the sink as he helped her out.
‘Browsing? In the middle of the night? Instead of sleeping? Look, I’m pregnant, not brain–dead.‘
“That bathroom’s out of toilet paper. Hand me a roll from in here,” Audrey said, nodding toward the larger restroom.
Yann made sure she was steady before turning around to grab it.
He came out only to find her standing there, holding the tablet.
His face turned awkward and guilty, like a kid caught goofing off after school instead of heading straight home.
He kept glancing at the tablet, torn between wanting to snatch it back and fearing it would upset her. His fingers clenched the toilet paper so tightly that
it left dents in the roll.
“How did you get the USB drive?” Audrey asked casually as she scrolled through the screen.
The tablet was full of high–res, aesthetically lit photos, taken by Yann, of her.
She’d hidden that USB stick deep in a drawer, convinced Yann had forgotten about it.
She figured she’d revisit it after the babies were born, pick a few tasteful shots, and print them as keepsakes.
But not only had he found it on his own, he was now building a full–on digital photo album.
Some of the photos were marked for potential replacement, but judging from how he was up in the middle of the night reviewing them, she doubted his motives were entirely innocent.
And come to think of it… they hadn’t had sex in a while.
‘Wait… was he in here… doing that?‘
Yann’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He reached out, hand gently placed on her elbow. “Let’s not hold it in too long. Go pee before it gets.
uncomfortable.”
‘Right.’ She’d almost forgotten why she came in here in the first place. ‘But that tablet? Not going back to him.”
She took it with her into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, and deleted some of the racier pictures, both from the album and the cloud storage, before walking back out.
“Why was the shower on if you were just looking at photos?” She waited until they were back in bed to ask the question, one she already thought she
knew the answer to.
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Yann lay on his side, one arm tucked beneath her neck, the other draped around her waist, palm resting on her belly in gentle, circular strokes. “I got
hot.”
A bulge suddenly rose from her stomach and then disappeared again.
‘Even the babies think you’re full of it.‘
He’d clearly gotten worked up looking at those photos and decided to cool off with a cold shower. Too bad for him, she’d caught him right when he was literally about to take matters into his own hands.
Audrey closed her eyes and let out a long, silent sigh.
If it weren’t for Quentin repeatedly warning them not to have vigorous sex in the final months, Yann probably would’ve already come up with some weird “pregnancy–safe” positions.
Ever since her belly started getting big, he hadn’t been turned off in the slightest. If anything, he seemed oddly fascinated.
‘He better not have some bizarre pregnancy belly kink.‘
The next morning, Audrey, who normally loved to sleep in, woke up bursting for the bathroom.
She went into the main bathroom out of habit. The air still felt damp, and there was a faint smell in the shower. Looked like last night’s little plan didn’t go as expected… but this morning’s clearly had.
She returned to bed, hoping to get a bit more sleep.
Yann had already eaten by the time he came upstairs. He grabbed a jar of stretch mark cream from her nightstand, rubbed his hands together until they were warm, and gently applied it to her belly.
He seemed to genuinely enjoy this whole wife–care routine.
Audrey kept her eyes closed, occasionally letting out contented little sighs and shifting slightly to make it e
“Okay.”
“And the thighs.”
or him. “Get the sides too.”
“Hey! Not the inside!” She smacked his arm, leaving a red hand
a little too hard.
“The outer thighs!” she scolded and then, out of guilt, gave her c
across it. Her expression flickered, equal parts guilty and sorry. Maybe she’d hit him
leg a slap too.
But her hand never landed, for Yann caught her wrist and gently set it aside.
After applying the cream across her belly, hips, and thighs, he leaned down to kiss her forehead before heading off to work.
Once he was gone, Audrey found she couldn’t fall back asleep.
Ever since her belly had gotten big, she could only sleep on her side. She used to rest her leg over Yann for support.
Now that he was gone, she tugged his pillow over and tried to prop her leg up on it, but no matter how she adjusted, nothing felt quite right.
‘Forget it. Time to get up!
During breakfast, she called Emilia and asked her to help deposit the check and open a separate account just for it.
Emilia paused when she saw the neatly folded check, clearly tempted to speak. But when she noticed the stamp at the bottom was still crisp and
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unmarred, she reconsidered and said nothing.
“Christmas is coming up,” Audrey mumbled through a yawn as she slumped in her chair. “Notify Lunessé HQ to pull this year’s revenue summary. I want it on my desk.”
Emilia frowned. “You’re about to give birth. Maybe don’t stress yourself?”
Audrey waved a hand. “Keeping my brain working is better than doing nothing. If I sit around eating and sleeping all day, I’ll end up brain–dead after i give birth.”
Emilia offered a few more half–hearted objections, but Audrey wouldn’t budge, so she gave up and went to take care of it.
On her way out of the bank, Emilia just so happened to run into someone familiar…
Meanwhile, Lucia had taken the Fabergé egg to be appraised. The estimate didn’t come anywhere close to the price of the property in Westmoor Heights, but Celeste, for Audrey’s sake, agreed to accept them as collateral, just a formality, really.
She told Lucia that as long as she managed to flip the property and cover the difference later, it wouldn’t be a problem.
Celeste brought her child to the hospital for a jaundice check, and Lucia tagged along, all smiles and maternal warmth. A new nurse even mistook her for the baby’s grandmother.
Celeste took the Fabergé egg, had Lucia sign a few papers, and told her someone would deliver the keys later.
Lucia was beaming like she’d just won the lottery. On her way out, she even made a stop at the OB–GYN clinic. “Doctor, I’d like to have my IUD removed.”
She’d had it for seven or eight years. It hadn’t fused with her body or anything, but the removal still made her feel a little sore.
But the excitement of owning such a hot–ticket property made it all worth it. She powered through and head straight to the sales center.
Celeste had already told her the floor plan and layout, so she visited the model home first. Then she casually asked the agent if that specific unit was still
available.
The agent didn’t even need to look. “That one? It was snapped up before the official launch.”
Lucia’s heart practically danced.
Hoping to turn a casual conversation into something more, she struck up a chat with another potential buyer. Midway through the exchange, she glanced toward the entrance and spotted Clayton standing there like a bad habit she couldn’t shake.
‘Seriously? Like I’m haunted.‘
Lucia quickly turned her back and acted like she hadn’t seen him, keeping up her pleasant conversation.
“Your husband’s in mining? You’re so lucky!”
“Thinking of a lifestyle change? That makes perfect sense!”
“You’re worried about your social security credits? Let me ask around, I might be able to help with–”
Suddenly, she felt a weight on her shoulder. She turned her head and came face–to–face with Clayton’s warm smile. “Mom…”
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