Chapter 3 A DAY OF SURPRISES

THIRD PERSON'S POV Seraphina woke to an empty space beside her. For a moment, she lay still, staring at the ceiling. Then she reached across the bed and rested her palm against the pillow next to hers. It was slightly creased, the sheets still carrying the faint warmth of someone who had occupied the space only a few hours earlier. Demian had come home after all. She had waited for him until nearly eleven the previous night, fighting sleep because she wanted to see him. Eventually, she had admitted defeat and gone to bed alone. Now, the clock on the bedside table showed eight thirty. A folded piece of paper caught her attention. She picked it up and unfolded it. Sorry I got home so late. Why don't we talk later today? I'm taking the entire afternoon and evening off. D. Seraphina read the message twice before a smile slowly spread across her face. Demian taking time off was practically unheard of. His work consumed most of his waking hours, and even his birthdays rarely persuaded him to step away from the office. The fact that he had deliberately cleared his afternoon and evening meant something. Perhaps he had finally realised how much they had been missing each other. She pressed the note lightly against her lips, feeling a little foolish about how happy such a simple message had made her. Still, she couldn't help it. The last few weeks had been difficult, and she wanted to believe this was the beginning of a better period for them. There was no need to tell him about the baby immediately. She had already made plans. She had secured a reservation at La Vida, one of the finest restaurants in the city, and intended to share the news over dinner. She could already imagine the surprise on his face when she told him he was going to be a father. The thought filled her with excitement. She pushed the covers aside and sprang out of bed, only to drop back onto the mattress almost immediately. The room tilted. Seraphina gripped the edge of the bed as darkness briefly clouded her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the strange sensation to pass. What was that? She had never experienced anything quite like it. Perhaps it was one of the early effects of pregnancy. She remembered Dr Bradford mentioning that her body would undergo several changes, although she couldn't recall him saying anything about sudden dizziness. Her next appointment was still two weeks away. She considered calling the doctor's office, but the feeling had already begun to fade. She didn't want to turn an otherwise promising morning into a cause for unnecessary worry. If it happened again, she would certainly seek medical advice. After sitting for another minute, she carefully got to her feet. This time, the room remained steady. Satisfied, she slipped into an Lilac silk robe and stepped into her matching fluffy slippers before making her way downstairs. The kitchen was already busy. Everything in the enormous room gleamed. The stainless-steel appliances were sleek and modern, fitted with so many buttons and settings that Seraphina suspected even the manufacturers hadn't discovered all their uses. Copper pots and pans hung neatly above the cooking area, polished until they reflected the light. She had once asked Olivia why they needed so many expensive pieces of cookware when they barely used half of them. Olivia had simply explained that copper was among the best materials for cooking. Seraphina had nodded as though she understood. Truthfully, she wouldn't have known the difference between an ordinary saucepan and an expensive one. Cooking had never been her responsibility in this house. Olivia stood behind the marble island, whisking eggs in a metal bowl. She was a tall, solidly built woman whose practical sky-blue shirt and dark capri jeans suited her far better than any formal uniform could have. "Good morning, Mrs Alexander "Good morning, Olivia." "You're up early today. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." Seraphina smiled and settled onto one of the cushioned stools. "Take your time. I'm not in a hurry." Olivia poured the beaten eggs into a heated pan, then placed a cup of jasmine tea in front of her. Unlike many wealthy households, Demian and Seraphina didn't insist that their employees dress in uniforms. Demian considered the expense unnecessary, while Seraphina disliked the idea of making people who worked in their home look as though they were attending a formal ceremony every day. Besides, Olivia had been with them long enough to feel more like a member of the family than an employee. A young man entered carrying a glass vase filled with freshly cut daisies. Seraphina glanced up, surprised by the unfamiliar face. He placed the flowers carefully on the island, offered her a shy smile and disappeared through the kitchen doorway. "Who was that?" Olivia glanced in the direction he had gone while arranging the scrambled eggs on a plate. "John. He started working here recently." Seraphina looked at the flowers. "What happened to Daniel?" "He was let go." "Why?" "He kept coming in late." Olivia's expression tightened slightly. "I warned him several times, but nothing changed." Seraphina felt a small pang of sympathy. She had never been comfortable with the idea of dismissing people, even when they deserved it. However, Olivia was responsible for managing the household staff, and Seraphina trusted her judgement. "That's unfortunate," she murmured. Olivia placed the breakfast before her, adding slices of toasted whole-wheat bread and a small serving of fruit. Beside the plate sat a jar of almond butter and four different flavours of jam. "Would you like some freshly squeezed juice?" Seraphina nodded, taking another sip of tea. As she began eating, her gaze wandered around the kitchen. It was difficult not to notice how much money Demian spent making sure she never had to worry about the ordinary responsibilities of daily life. Her meals appeared without her having to ask, the house was cleaned from top to bottom, and the gardens were maintained so meticulously that not a single leaf seemed out of place. If Demian had his way, she sometimes suspected, he would arrange for someone to do absolutely bath her. Although she appreciated his generosity, there were moments when it became overwhelming. She knew she wasn't the sort of woman Demian had expected to marry. Before him, she had lived a relatively ordinary life, watching her expenses and buying things only when she needed them. She had never been interested in designer labels or expensive luxuries. Perhaps he thought surrounding her with all these things would help her fit comfortably into his world. But they had been married for three years. Surely, by now, he understood that she didn't need an extravagant lifestyle to be happy. There were several things she wanted to discuss with him when they finally had time together. For starters, she wanted to reduce the number of household staff. She also intended to speak to him about her clothing allowance. Agnes seemed determined to spend every penny of the budget Demian had provided, even though Seraphina hardly wore most of the clothes she bought. More importantly, she wanted to spend less time organising fundraisers and attending charity events on behalf of his various foundations. She didn't mind supporting the causes he cared about, but she had gradually become so involved in those responsibilities that her own interests had been pushed aside. She missed painting. Demian had gone to considerable trouble to build her a private studio, yet she had barely stepped inside it since their marriage. She wanted to return to the canvas, mix colours, experiment with different ideas and create something that belonged entirely to her. She was almost certain Demian would agree. He rarely refused her anything. Whenever she raised a request, his response was usually some version of, "Of course. Whatever you want." It should have pleased her. Instead, there was something about his easy agreement that occasionally left her dissatisfied. Did he genuinely support her wishes, or was he simply too occupied to care enough to discuss them? She frowned at her plate. That was an unfair thought. Demian had always been generous with her. He had never tried to control what she wore, where she went or how she spent her time. Perhaps she was becoming unnecessarily difficult. Stop looking for problems, Seraphina. If she mentioned these thoughts to Isabella, her friend would probably blame them on pregnancy hormones. And Seraphina had no intention of giving her that satisfaction. By the time she finished breakfast, her mood had improved considerably. For the first time in weeks, she felt hopeful about the future. Their marriage had not been the same lately. During the past three years, they had gradually settled into separate routines. She had become increasingly involved in his charitable projects, while Demian had devoted more and more of his time to business. They still lived under the same roof, but the closeness they once shared seemed to have slipped away without either of them noticing exactly when it happened. Now there was a baby on the way. Their child could give them something new to share, a reason to slow down and remember what mattered. And Demian was taking an entire afternoon and evening off to spend with her. She wanted to believe that things were finally changing. Isabella arrived about fifteen minutes later. As usual, her appearance was impossible to overlook. She wore a striking teal dress fitted neatly at the waist by a broad white leather belt. A brown headband decorated with an oversized white ribbon sat across her hair, although it did little to keep her fringe away from her smoky eyes. She barely paused after greeting Seraphina. "You need to get dressed." Seraphina looked up from her phone. "Good morning to you too." "Good morning. Now, get moving. We're supposed to be at Demian's hangar before eleven." Seraphina blinked. "His hangar?" Isabella nodded, already checking the time on her phone. "I don't remember agreeing to go there." "Neither do I. Hum sent me a message asking me to bring you." "Did he say what for?" "Something about lunch." Seraphina stared at her. "Lunch? At the hangar?" "That's all I know." Isabella shrugged and headed towards the bedroom. "Come on. We need to decide what you're wearing." Seraphina followed, leaving the rest of her questions unanswered. Isabella had always been the more fashionable one between them. She could put together an outfit effortlessly, while Seraphina had spent most of her younger years choosing clothes based on comfort, durability and price. Her old wardrobe had consisted largely of affordable dresses, practical shoes and a few special outfits she had bought from discount stores. She had kept those nicer pieces for the day she might finally exhibit her paintings. Looking back, she wondered whether she had been overly optimistic. She had never submitted her work to a gallery, much less held an exhibition. Painting remained something she did privately, and she had never felt ready to invite strangers to judge something so personal. Her present wardrobe was a different story. The walk-in closet was enormous, with more space than her former apartment's main bedroom. A separate door opened onto a service corridor, allowing the staff to deliver laundry and dry-cleaning without having to enter the bedroom. As they stepped inside, the lights came on automatically. Rows of shelves displayed shoes in almost every colour imaginable. There were designer handbags, neatly arranged accessories and more dresses than Seraphina could remember buying. Isabella went straight to the wardrobe system and pressed a switch. A section of hanging rails began moving smoothly, bringing one collection of clothes after another into view. Seraphina watched as a bright brown Chanel dress appeared. Its delicate straps rested on the hanger, and the price tag was still attached. She recognised it immediately. She had never worn it. "Why is this still here?" she asked. Isabella gave her a look. "That's exactly what I would like to know." The clothes continued moving until a familiar collection appeared. They were the dresses Seraphina had owned before marrying Demian, the ones she had insisted on keeping despite Agnes's repeated suggestions that they be donated. Isabella stopped the mechanism and examined them. "You still have all these?" "Of course. They're perfectly fine." "Seraphina, you have enough clothes to dress an entire boutique. Why are you holding on to things you bought years ago?" "Because I like them." "That's not a reason." "It is to me." Seraphina smiled. "I can wear them when I'm in my studio. I don't need a four-thousand-dollar Dior dress getting covered in paint." Isabella folded her arms, considering that. "Actually, that's a rather good idea." Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "Think about it," Isabella continued. "One day, when you're a famous artist, someone might pay a fortune for a dress you've accidentally splashed paint on. They'll call it a piece of history." Seraphina laughed. "You make it sound so easy." "Because it is. You just need to stop hiding your talent." "I'm not hiding anything. I simply paint because I enjoy it." "And you're very good at it." Seraphina lowered her eyes, embarrassed by the praise. She had never been comfortable discussing her artistic abilities, especially around people who belonged to Demian's social circle. They were accustomed to expensive exhibitions and famous artists. She couldn't imagine putting her own work beside theirs. Besides, her paintings were personal. They held thoughts and feelings she wasn't ready to explain to anyone. "You're the only person who has seen most of them," she reminded Isabella. "Exactly. And I happen to know what I'm talking about. You could be the next Da vinci." "Now you're exaggerating." "I'm encouraging you. There's a difference." Isabella restarted the wardrobe system. After a few seconds, she stopped it again and removed two dresses from the rail. One was a royal-black linen sheath dress. The other was a coral-pink silk dress with a flowing skirt. "Which one?" Seraphina didn't hesitate. "The black one." Isabella looked at her in surprise. "That was quick." "What?" "You usually take forever to decide. Sometimes I think you enjoy making me suffer." Seraphina laughed and reached for the Black dress. "I just like this colour." Isabella checked the label and shook her head. "You haven't worn this once. Do you know how much Agnes paid for it?" Seraphina glanced at the price. "She probably used the clothing budget." "Three thousand dollars, Seraphina." "I know." "Does she understand that spending the entire allowance isn't compulsory?" Seraphina smiled. "She believes that if Demian has set aside a certain amount, she should make sure every penny is used." Isabella stared at her before bursting into laughter. "So she's running the wardrobe like a government department. Spend everything before the next budget review!" "Something like that." "Well, at least this dress won't remain untouched today. Let's find you some shoes." Seraphina turned towards the shoe shelves. The choices were so numerous that she had no idea where to begin. She finally settled on a pair of black and red heels with delicate ankle straps and small sparkling hearts near the toes. Isabella inspected them and nodded approvingly. "Good choice." She then picked out a soft pink cashmere shawl to complete the outfit. By the time they had settled on the accessories, Isabella had already begun planning the rest of Seraphina's appearance. Her hair needed a little attention, and she insisted on giving her makeup a fresh, natural finish. Seraphina sat patiently while her friend worked, occasionally glancing at the clock. She was curious about Demian's sudden invitation. Perhaps he had planned something special. Maybe the lunch was his way of making up for the time they had spent apart. Whatever it was, she hoped the day would give them a chance to reconnect. When Isabella finally stepped back, she looked pleased with her work. "There. Perfect." Seraphina turned towards the mirror. The black dress complemented her complexion, while the pink shawl softened the overall look. Her hair framed her face neatly, and her makeup made her look refreshed. "I like it," she admitted. "Of course you do. I chose it." Seraphina laughed and reached for her handbag. "Can we go now?" "Finally." Isabella took her by the arm. "I've been ready for ages." They left the bedroom together, heading towards the waiting car. Seraphina glanced once more at the time as they made their way downstairs. She still had no idea what Demian had planned at the hangar, but the thought of seeing him soon made her smile. For once, she wasn't going to spend the day wondering when he would come home. She was going to spend it with him.