It started like any other morning.
Sebastian had kissed her forehead before leaving, careful not to wake her completely. Isabelle had been curled up in bed, her hand resting over her belly, her lashes fluttering just slightly as she murmured something in her sleep. He almost stayed. Just for a minute. Just to watch her breathe.
But she’d insisted the night before: “Go. You’ve got a full morning. I’ll be fine.”
So he left.
He had two briefings, a site review call with his London team, and a third-round meeting with one of the sustainability directors for the new tech hub. Somewhere between calls, he sent her a message: Eat something. And tell Sophia to stop hovering.
Her reply: She already made me tea and cut my fruit into stars. You’re both impossible.
He smiled.
That was the last m
