Chapter 145: Soft Massage
Home felt different that night. Quieter. Softer. Like the world outside had finally decided to leave them alone. A mara sat on the edge of the bed, her body heavy with exhaustion, her mind still catching up to everything that had happened.
Before she could even ask, Julian was already there. Kneeling in front of her. "Give me your feet," he said gently. She didn’t argue this time. Didn’t tease. Didn’t resist.
He lifted them carefully into his lap, his hands warm as they began to work slowly, deliberately, like he was trying to undo not just the ache in her muscles, but the weight she’d been carrying for months.
"I thought I was doing enough," he said after a while, his voice quieter now. "But... I’m missing a lot." Amara let out a small breath, leaning back on her hands.
"You didn’t miss much," she said softly. "Just the morning struggle of getting out of bed." A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"And my face without makeup..." she added, scrunching her nose slightly. "Yeah, no one warned me my body would change like this." Her hand moved to her belly.
Instinct. Habit. Something deeper. "It’s a mess," she muttered. Then, softer... "But it’s... beautiful."
Julian didn’t hesitate. "Yeah," he said simply. His hands never stopped moving. "It suits you." A small pause.
"You wear it well." Amara glanced at him. And for a moment. She believed him completely.
"I’ve been reading a lot," Julian added after a beat, almost casually. "About the delivery..."
"I know." She cut in quickly, but gently. "Julian... can we not talk about it?" His hands stilled.
Just slightly. "I still have a month," she continued, her voice lighter now, trying to ease the moment. "Let me... psych my mind up first."
A small smile followed. Not forced. Just... honest. Julian nodded. "Okay." No pressure. No argument.
And just like that. The tension dissolved again. They moved onto the bed later, side by side, not quite touching at first.
Then closer. Then closer still. And they talked. About everything. And nothing. Old memories. Small jokes. Things that didn’t matter..but somehow meant everything. They laughed more than they had in months.
Real laughter. The kind that made her forget, even if just for a moment, the uncertainty still waiting for them. Julian told her stories from work, carefully edited, but enough to make her roll her eyes. Amara told him about Janet almost arguing with a supplier twice her size.
Time slipped. Quietly. No past. No Sebastian. No Amira. No fear about what might come next.
Just them. At one point, Amara rested her head against his shoulder, her voice softer now.
"If tonight could just stay like this..." Julian turned slightly, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"It can," he murmured. She didn’t argue even if she knew better. Because sometimes. It wasn’t about what was real. It was about what you needed.
And that night. They needed peace. So they held onto it. Like tomorrow wasn’t waiting.
—
The hospital was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that pressed against your chest... that made every sound feel louder than it should be.
Sebastian walked down the corridor with steady steps, but there was something tight in his shoulders... something heavy he carried with him. This wasn’t the same man who stood outside Amara’s world, watching from a distance.
This. Was different. He stopped in front of the door. For a second, his hand hovered over the handle. Then he pushed it open. Inside, machines hummed softly. Steady. Unforgiving.
The little girl lay in the bed, small against the white sheets, her body still in a way no child ever should be. Too quiet. Too fragile.
Sebastian stepped closer. Slowly. Like he was afraid even the air around her might break something. "Hey..." he murmured, his voice softer than anyone had ever heard it. He pulled a chair closer and sat down, leaning forward slightly, his eyes fixed on her face.
A small, broken smile touched his lips. "You’re still sleeping, huh?" His fingers moved carefully, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Gentle. Careful. Like she could feel it.
A knock came from behind. The doctor stepped in, holding a chart. "How is she?" Sebastian asked without looking away. The doctor hesitated. "Still the same, sir."
A pause. Then, cautiously. "We are monitoring her condition, but if there’s no response soon, we may have to start considering—"
"No." The word came sharp. Immediate. Final. Sebastian turned then, his eyes hard, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface.
"No. Don’t even think about it." The doctor stopped.
"She will wake up," Sebastian continued, his voice lower now..but no less intense. "She has to." Silence filled the room. Heavy. Unchallenged.
The doctor nodded slowly. Careful. And stepped back. Sebastian exhaled, turning back to the girl. For a moment. The anger left him. And what remained... Was something far more fragile.
His hand reached out again, tracing lightly over her small fingers resting on the blanket. His thumb brushed against her skin. Warm. Alive.
"You hear that?" he murmured softly. "They don’t know what they’re talking about." A faint smile. But his eyes. His eyes betrayed him. "You’re strong," he whispered. "You don’t quit."
His voice broke slightly. Just for a second. "Not like this." He sat there a little longer.
Not moving. Not speaking. Just... being there. Then suddenly. He stood. Too fast. Like staying any longer would break something inside him he couldn’t afford to lose.
His jaw tightened as he stepped back, running a hand over his face quickly, erasing the evidence before it could fully form. "I’ll come back," he said, almost under his breath.
Not to the doctor. Not to anyone else. To her. And then. He walked out. The door closed quietly behind him. But the room remained the same.
The machines on the little girl are still humming. Time standing still. And the little girl. Still waiting.