Chapter 78

Agnes

The moment Elijah stepped through the doorway, his sharp gaze scanned the disaster that Thea and I had made in the living room. Fabrics were draped across the furniture, spools of thread had rolled onto the floor, and pieces of paper with Thea’s colorful designs were scattered everywhere.

His brow lifted, a question hovering on his lips, but before he could ask, Thea darted forward, holding her little hands behind her back.

“No peeking!” she declared. “It’s a surprise!”

Elijah’s lips twitched upwards into the faintest smile, but then his eyes flicked questioningly toward me. I was frozen in place, holding the third robe we had just finished behind my back as inconspicuously as possible.

It wasn’t working, of course. Elijah’s keen eyes could see the fabric poking out from behind me.

“A surprise, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he slowly crossed the room. His presence filled the space, and I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at his sudden proximity. “What kind of surprise?”

Thea giggled, glancing at me. I swallowed hard, trying my best to maintain my composure.

“Just something small,” I said, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Nothing worth fussing over.”

Elijah stopped in front of me, his towering form casting a shadow. His eyes gleamed with amusement as they flicked to the edges of fabric peeking out from behind my back. Without warning, he reached around me and plucked the robe from my hands before I could stop him.

“Elijah!” I gasped, my face heating up.

Thea clapped her hands together with delight. “It’s for you, Daddy! Mommy and I made it!”

Elijah held the robe up, his brows lifting as he inspected it. The soft, dark fabric draped between his fingers, the plush texture catching the light. For a moment, I thought he might laugh or say it was too girly, but instead, his expression softened.

“You made this?” he asked, his voice quieter now as he looked at me.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “It was Thea’s idea. She thought you needed a new one.”

“Your old one is yucky,” Thea added matter-of-factly, wrinkling her nose.

Elijah chuckled at that, the deep, warm sound sending a shiver down my spine. Without another word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and slipped the robe on. It fit him perfectly, the soft fabric hugging his broad shoulders. He ran a hand down the front and nodded approvingly.

“This is… incredible,” he said. “Soft, warm, and it actually fits. Thank you.”

Thea’s face lit up with pride. “See? I told you he’d like it, Mommy!”

I couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief. I wasn’t sure why exactly, but I had been half expecting him to complain about the robe—like it wasn’t a good enough payback for the two days he had apparently spent by my bedside.

But before I could respond, Thea darted to the pile of fabric scraps behind her and pulled out the other two robes we had made. One was her size, complete with pink embroidery that she had insisted on adding, and the other…

The other was mine.

“Matching robes!” Thea announced triumphantly, holding them up. “We all match now!”

Mortification surged through me as Elijah turned to look at the additional robes. “Thea, I…” I stammered, my face heating to what had to be an alarming shade of red. It had felt like such a good idea at the time of making the robes, but now that I all saw them together, it felt silly. Too close to something a real family would have done, which technically, we weren’t.

But just as I was about to blurt out some excuse or another, Elijah spoke up.

“These are amazing,” Elijah said, cutting me off with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached for my robe and held it out. “Try it on.”

“What? No, I—”

“Try it on,” he said again, more firmly this time as he held the robe up. There was no arguing with him when he used that voice.

Reluctantly, I turned and let him slip it over my arms. And as soon as he did, I felt fire run through my veins. It wasn’t from the soft fabric brushing against my skin, but rather the heat of his fingers through the material. His touch was as light as a feather, and yet it sent a bolt of electricity through me that left me even dizzier than when those drugs had been coursing through my system.

“It suits you,” he murmured, his voice so low that it felt like a growl in my ear.

I looked up over my shoulder at him, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain he could hear it. The space between us was much smaller than I thought it was, and I didn’t know how to react.

But before either of us could say anything more, the spell was broken by a loud growl.

Thea’s stomach.

Elijah chuckled, stepping back as Thea giggled and patted her belly. “I’m hungry, Daddy!” she declared.

“Then let’s fix that,” Elijah said, turning and scooping Thea into his arms.

I stood there for a moment, watching as he carried her to the kitchen in their matching robes. And as I did, I couldn’t help but run my fingers over mine one last time, in the same spot where his hands had lingered.

The next day, I returned to work feeling a renewed sense of inspiration. The time spent sewing with Thea the day before had sparked something inside of me, and as I sat at my desk, my pencil flew across the sketchpad with a fervor I hadn’t felt in weeks.

By the time I had finished, I was staring down at the completed design for my housecoat. It was exactly what I had pictured in my head, complete with delicate embroidery—inspired by the pink threads in Thea’s robe—and large pockets, just like Elijah’s. Feminine, yet practical.

When I presented the sketch to the team during our meeting, the response was overwhelmingly positive. I felt as if I had finally breached some sort of invisible wall, and that this was the start of something much more meaningful.

But throughout the meeting, I couldn’t help but notice Ava standing off to the side, her arms crossed and her expression sour. She didn’t say a word, but the tension radiating from her was palpable. I did my best to ignore her.

As the team dispersed, I lingered behind, my thoughts drifting back to the sketch I’d found on that designer’s desk. Something about it had nagged at me ever since, and now, seeing Ava’s reaction to my success, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

That afternoon, I sought out Gertrude for help. With her sharp intuition, she was the perfect ally for what I had in mind. Together, we tracked down the designer—Maria—in the library, where she was sitting alone, flipping through a book with a distracted look on her face.

I approached Maria slowly, like she was a cat in the wild that I was trying to pet. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly schooled her expression into something neutral.

“Luna Agnes,” she said. “Are you reading, too?”

I shook my head, placing my hands on my hips. By now, she was starting to notice that something was off, and she began to rise from her seat as if to run. But I had a feeling that she would try to get away, and so with a nod from me, Gertrude slipped out from behind a bookshelf and blocked the only exit.

Maria’s eyes widened, and she clutched her book to her chest.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I said, taking a seat next to her. “Tell me everything.”