ELENA’S POV
It was a thirty-minute drive filled with silence, except for the occasional hum of the radio. When London finally pulled up in front of an elegant boutique, I glanced out the window. The boutique was small, nestled between two larger buildings, its exterior painted a cheerful shade of turquoise.
The moment London parked the car and stepped out, I frowned.
“Why are we here?” I asked, glancing at the window displays showcasing flowing dresses and chic maternity wear.
He grinned, a mischievous tilt to his lips. “What else? We’re shopping,” he said, locking the car.
“Shopping?” My voice rose with a mix of disbelief and embarrassment. “London, that’s not necessary.”
He shrugged as if I’d just told him the sky was blue. “It is. You’re pregnant, Lena. You’ll need new clothes.”
