The seventh week, Christabel went back to work.
Not full time. Just a few hours. Just enough to remember that she was more than a mother.
The idea had come to her in the garden. Sitting on the bench beneath the tree. Watching the sun set over the city she had helped build.
She was more than Lena's mother. More than Damien's wife. More than the woman who lived in the penthouse and drank tea and waited for her husband to come home.
She was Christabel.
And Christabel had a company.
---
"I want to go back," she told Damien.
They were in bed. Lena was asleep. The city was dark.
"Back where?"
"To work. My company. The one I had before."
He was quiet for a moment.
"You haven't been there in almost two years."
"I know."
"It's been running without you."
"I know."
"Your sister has been managing it."
"I know."
"Then why do you want to go back?"
She turned to face him.
"Because I need to remember who I am."
---
He touched her face.
"You know who you are."
"I know who I've become." She took his hand. "I want to remember who I was."
"You're the same person."
"No." She shook her head. "I'm not. The woman who built that company was fierce. Independent. She didn't need anyone."
"And now?"
"Now I need you. Now I need her." She touched her chest, where the rose charm rested. "Now I need to know that I can still be that woman. Even with you. Even with her."
---
The next morning, she called her sister.
"I want to come in," Christabel said.
"To the office?"
"Yes."
"Today?"
"If you have time."
Sarah was quiet for a moment.
"I always have time for you."
---
The drive to the office was strange.
Christabel had made this drive hundreds of times before. Before Damien. Before Lena. Before her life had become something she didn't recognize.
The city looked the same. The buildings looked the same. The streets looked the same.
But she was different.
She felt different.
Lighter. Heavier. Both at the same time.
---
The office was in a building she had bought years ago. Before Verona. Before the penthouse. Before she had ever heard the name Damien Moreau.
The lobby was the same. The elevators were the same. The receptionist was the same.
"Christabel," the receptionist said. "We didn't know you were coming."
"I didn't know either."
"Is everything okay?"
Christabel smiled.
"Everything is fine. I just... needed to be here."
---
Sarah was waiting in the corner office.
The one that used to be Christabel's.
"It's yours," Sarah said, standing. "I've been keeping it warm."
"You can keep it."
"It's yours."
Christabel walked to the window.
Looked out at the city.
"I forgot how much I loved this view."
"You forgot a lot of things."
"I know."
"You're going to remember."
Christabel turned to face her sister.
"I hope so."
---
They spent the morning going through reports.
The company was doing well. Sarah had kept it afloat. Had even grown it a little.
"You're good at this," Christabel said.
"I learned from the best."
"You learned from yourself."
Sarah smiled.
"Maybe."
---
At noon, Christabel's phone buzzed.
A text from Damien.
How is it?
She typed back.
Strange. Good. Strange.
Lena says hi.
Tell her I say hi back.
She wants to know when you're coming home.
Soon.
How soon?
She smiled.
Soon.
---
She stayed until three.
Then she drove home.
The penthouse was quiet. Lena was sleeping. Damien was in the living room, reading.
"How was it?" he asked.
"Good."
"Just good?"
"Good to remember."
He set down his book.
"Remember what?"
She sat beside him.
"That I'm more than a mother. More than a wife. More than anyone's anything."
"You've always been more."
"I forgot."
"You're remembering."
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I am."
---
That night, Lena woke at midnight.
Crying. Hungry.
Christabel went to her.
Lifted her from the crib.
Held her against her chest.
"Hi, baby," she said.
Lena cried.
"I know," Christabel said. "You're hungry. You're wet. You're cold. I'm sorry. I was gone today."
Lena stopped crying.
Looked up at her mother.
"I went to work," Christabel said. "Not because I don't love you. Because I need to remember who I am."
Lena cooed.
"You don't understand," Christabel said. "You're too small. But one day you will. And I need you to know that being your mother isn't the only thing I am."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's up," he said.
"She's hungry."
"I'll make a bottle."
"She wants to nurse."
He walked to her.
Sat on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"How was it really?" he asked.
"Really?"
"Really."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Really, it was terrifying."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't know if I still knew how to be her."
"Be who?"
"The woman who built that company."
"And did you?"
She looked down at Lena.
"I think so."
---
Lena finished nursing.
Fell asleep against Christabel's chest.
"She's out," Christabel said.
"She's perfect."
"She's ours."
Damien stood.
Took Lena from her arms.
Laid her in the crib.
Then he walked back to Christabel.
Took her hand.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The garden."
---
They sat on the bench beneath the tree.
The city was dark. The stars were bright.
"I'm proud of you," Damien said.
"For what?"
"For going back. For trying. For not giving up."
"I wanted to give up."
"But you didn't."
"I almost did."
"But you didn't."
She looked at him.
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Be a mother. Be a wife. Be myself. All at the same time."
"Neither do I."
"You're not a mother."
"No." He touched her face. "But I'm a father. And I don't know how to do that either."
---
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"We're going to mess her up," she said.
"Probably."
"She's going to need therapy."
"Definitely."
They laughed.
And for a moment, the fear faded.
---
The next morning, Christabel went back to the office.
Not because she had to.
Because she wanted to.
Sarah was waiting.
"You came back," Sarah said.
"I said I would."
"You said you'd think about it."
"I thought about it."
"And?"
"And I'm tired of being afraid."
---
She walked to the corner office.
Sat behind the desk.
Looked out at the city.
"This is mine," she said.
"It's always been yours."
"I forgot."
"You're remembering."
Christabel smiled.
"I am."