Valerie avoided him.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a "storm out and slam doors" kind of way.
Just… quietly.
The kind of avoiding that looked like coincidence if you didn't pay attention.
Breakfast came earlier than usual.
Walks happened when she was sure he was in meetings.
Even her sitting arrangements changed, always choosing the far end of a room, like distance could erase memory but it didn't.
Because no matter how far she sat, she could still feel it.
His hand at her waist.
The pressure.
The pause.
The way neither of them had moved.
Valerie exhaled sharply and stabbed at her plate of fruit like it had personally offended her.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
"Talking to your breakfast now?"
She froze for a second.
Of course he was there.
Valerie looked up slowly to find Richard standing across the dining room, already dressed, already composed, like he hadn't almost ruined everything twenty-four hours ago.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said. "I talk to fruit. It listens better."
A corner of his mouth twitched.
Progress, apparently.
She went back to her plate. "You're early," she said.
"You're earlier," he replied.
"I like surprising people," she said
"I've noticed," he shot back, and that did something to her stomach.
Not the pregnancy but something else.
She shifted in her seat. "So… are we just going to pretend yesterday didn't happen?"
Richard walked further into the room, calm, measured. "That depends."
"On what?" she asked immediately.
"On whether you want to," he replied
She let out a short laugh. "Oh, I love that. So you're putting this on me?" she chuckled slightly.
"No…I'm giving you control".
"You say that like I didn't sign it away."
His expression flickered just slightly.
"I didn't take your autonomy," he said quietly.
Valerie met his eyes. "No. Just everything else."
Silence settled between them.
Not the same silence as yesterday.
This one was tighter. More careful.
She broke it first.
"Relax," she said, waving her hand lightly. "I'm not about to file a complaint because you caught me before I kissed the floor."
"I didn't just catch you."
Her breath hitched a little.
"Right," she said quickly. "Well… Details."
Richard studied her for a moment longer than necessary.
"You should rest today," he said finally.
Valerie blinked. "Didn't we already establish that I hate being told what to do?"
"Yes."
"And you're doing it anyway?"
"Yes."
.
She stared at him, then sighed. "Consistency. I respect it."
By noon, she was bored out of her mind.
Resting, apparently, meant:
Sitting
Lying down
Existing quietly like a decorative pillow
Valerie lasted exactly two hours before she got up.
"I'm going to lose my sanity," she told the empty room.
"You're not allowed to lose anything," came a voice behind her.
She turned.
Cynthia.
Of course.
Valerie placed a hand over her chest dramatically. "Do you teleport or just enjoy scaring people?"
"I knocked."
"You breathed near the door. That doesn't count."
Cynthia ignored that, stepping into the room like she owned the air. "You were instructed to rest," she said.
"And I rested," Valerie replied. "For two hours. That's basically a lifetime."
"You need to take this seriously."
Valerie folded her arms. "I am taking it seriously. I just refuse to be miserable while doing it."
Cynthia's gaze sharpened. "This isn't about comfort."
"Everything is about comfort," Valerie shot back. "People just pretend it's not."
Cynthia didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she looked at Valerie, really looked this time.
"You're adjusting too quickly," she said.
Valerie frowned. "Is that a problem?"
"It could be," Cynthia answered back.
She blinked. "Wow. That's the most ominous thing you've said so far, and that's saying something."
Cynthia stepped closer, voice lower now. "Don't get comfortable here."
Valerie's expression hardened slightly. "Trust me. That's not a risk."
"Good," Cynthia said. "Because the moment you forget what this is, you'll regret it."
Valerie tilted her head. "And what exactly do you think I'll forget?"
Cynthia held her gaze.
"That you're temporary."
That landed harder than Valerie expected.
But she didn't show it.
Instead, she smiled, slow and sharp.
"So are most things," she said lightly.
Cynthia didn't return the smile.
She turned and left without another word.
Valerie stood there for a moment, the silence settling again.
But this time, it didn't feel empty.
It felt… warning.
Later that evening, Valerie found herself in the kitchen.
Not because she was hungry.
Just because she needed something to do.
She opened the fridge, stared inside, then closed it again.
"Rich people don't even snack properly," she muttered.
"You're in the wrong section."
She jumped slightly then glared.
"You people need bells," she said.
Richard leaned against the doorway, watching her. "You're not supposed to be standing."
"I'm not standing," she said. "I'm aggressively existing."
"That's not a medical term."
"It should be."
He stepped closer. "What are you looking for?" he asked as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Something normal," she said. "Like… biscuits or juice that doesn't look like it was squeezed by a scientist."
He reached past her, opening another compartment.
"There," he said.
She followed his hand and paused.
"Wait," she said slowly. "You have actual juice," her voice filled with excitement.
"Yes," he replied.
"Not organic, hand-blended, emotionally supportive juice?" Valerie continued.
He almost smiled. "It's just juice, Valerie."
She looked at him. "You're full of surprises."
"Apparently."
She reached for it and felt the world tilt again.
"Okay," she muttered, gripping the counter. "We're not doing this today."
The room didn't spin fully this time, but it swayed just enough to remind her that her body was no longer entirely hers.
Richard moved instantly.
Again.
His hand hovered near her arm, like he wanted to catch her but this time, he stopped himself halfway…like he remembered.
"I'm fine," Valerie said quickly, straightening herself.
"You're not steady," he replied.
"I said I'm fine."
"You almost fell."
"I almost trip over my own feet on a normal day," she shot back. "This is not new information."
Still he didn't look convinced.
She grabbed the juice, poured herself a glass, and leaned against the counter like nothing had happened.
Like she wasn't aware of how close he still was.
Like she didn't notice that he hadn't stepped back.
"See?" she said, taking a sip. "Alive. Functioning. Slightly dramatic, but that's part of my charm."
"You should sit," he said
"You should relax," Valerie fired back.
"I am relaxed," Richard exhaled.
"You look like you're about to call an emergency meeting," She noted.
He didn't deny it.
That made her pause.
Valerie studied him for a second, then sighed. "It's normal, okay? The doctor literally said I might feel dizzy."
"I know what the doctor said."
"Then why are you acting like I'm about to faint into the chandelier?"
"Because you don't take it seriously."
She raised an eyebrow. "I came back from a clinic where they basically scheduled my body like a calendar, Richard. I'm taking it seriously."
That landed.
He went quiet.
And for a moment, the tension shifted.
Not sharp.
Just… real.
Before either of them could say anything else, a voice cut through the room.
"Wow."
They both turned.
A girl stood at the kitchen entrance, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other holding her phone like she had just walked into the most interesting scene of her life.
She looked about sixteen. Maybe seventeen.
Lon
g dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Basketball shorts. Oversized hoodie.
And eyes sharp, curious, very much awake to everything happening.
She looked between them slowly.
Then smirked.
"Well," she said. "This is new."
Valerie blinked.
Richard straightened immediately. "Lily."
Ah! Valerie exclaimed in her mind…The sister!