Two years ago…
Elizabeth
Seb and I stood before a massive, mind-blowing structure—no, not just a house, but a mansion. The kind of place that steals your breath before you even step inside. It sat proudly in the middle of a pristine estate, with a vast stretch of beach unfolding behind it like nature's own crown.
My lips trembled as I searched for words, but nothing seemed worthy. The sight jolted a memory—an architectural sketch I'd once seen laid out on soft pink carbon paper.
"Sebastian," I remembered whispering back then, "are you planning on building another mansion?"
He had only nodded. "Yes. And I need you to choose—which one do you think is better?"
And I'd laughed, nervously. "Um… I don't really know, Sebastian. It actually depends on the woman you want to marry."
Back then, I never guessed that I was that woman. The woman standing here now, staring at the living proof.
Sebastian slipped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting warmly on my shoulder. "Welcome to our new home, my darling wife-to-be."
"O… Our…" My lips wobbled again, and I could feel emotions rising, threatening to spill. "Seb… this—I… oh Lord, I'm speechless."
He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. "You don't have to say anything. I can feel it—you love it already."
And then the tears came. I spun around to face him, unable to hold them back.
His brows knit together when he saw my wet cheeks. He cupped my face tenderly. "What's wrong, honey? You don't like it—"
"No, no, no." I shook my head quickly, smiling through the tears. "Not that. It's… it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I love it."
Relief softened his expression into a smile that could light the world. "I'm glad you do."
But as I stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the moment, a memory pricked at me—the two of us inside his study room almost two years ago, going over those building plans. A whisper of conscience tugged at me, something odd I had yet to admit.
"That day… when you asked me to choose between two carbons—pink and blue—" I hesitated, my voice trembling with memory. "Did you… did you already have it in mind that we'd be together someday?"
Sebastian bit his lower lip, caught. His silence was more revealing than words.
His hands tightened around my waist as he pulled me close until there was no space left between us. His gaze locked into mine, unwavering. "Yes."
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
"From the very first day you stepped into my house," he continued softly, "I felt it. The change. The effect you had on me. Sleepless nights, restless thoughts… That's when I knew you were the one. So I wanted to create something tangible, and I asked for your opinion. Little did you know—I was already planning to keep you for me."
I stood frozen, my eyes trapped in the depth of his brown gaze.
He chuckled under his breath, recalling. "When I asked you to make a choice, you said: 'It actually depends on the woman you want to marry.'" He shook his head with a soft snort. "But you were that woman. The one I wanted to marry, have children with, and grow old beside. And here we are." His smile turned boyish. "I present to you… a product in your cart."
"God, Sebastian…" I buried my face in his chest, my heart too full, and his laughter vibrated warmly against me.
"Come on," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "Let's walk it through—inside, outside, and around."
Hand in hand, we wandered until we found ourselves by the seashore. The sand was soft and white beneath us as we sat, watching the ocean. The rhythmic crash of waves and the hush of the breeze filled the silence between us.
My head rested against his shoulder, his arm secure around me. Time seemed to stretch endlessly until his voice broke the stillness, low and thoughtful.
"All throughout my stay in Japan, my mind was on you," he confessed, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "I lost focus more often than not. I kept thinking about you… about our babies. Sometimes, I'd play the piano beats I secretly recorded from your keys, just to feel close to you again."
My head snapped up, my eyes wide. "You recorded the keys?"
A quiet smile curved his lips. "Yes. I couldn't help it. You were always on my mind."
"I thought about you too," I whispered, lowering my gaze as I tucked myself back against him. "I cried myself to sleep so many nights, imagining you living far from me. So many fears crowded my head. I was terrified for your safety."
His arm tightened around me, his hand stroking my hair in slow, reassuring motions. "If I had to choose, I'd think about your safety first—long before mine."
I tilted my head to look up at him, tears blurring my sight. "But you came back looking so… so broken. And it hurt me, Seb. It hurt me to see you that way."
He chuckled, brushing it off. "Nah. That was nothing—just the evidence of stress."
Thank God he's back to himself again. Exactly the way I like him: freshly shaved, ridiculously handsome, and dangerously striking. Even better, I get to braid his hair into neat rows now, my own small claim on him.
The sun was sinking low, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. To me, it almost seemed like it was melting into the sea.
Seb glanced at his Rolex. "Hell, it's getting late. We better head home before Mom freaks out."
The mental image of Adira chasing Sebastian around the penthouse with a spatula made me laugh out loud. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get going—oh!" My breath caught when Seb suddenly scooped me up into his arms.
"What is it?" he asked casually, striding toward the Range Rover.
I looped my arms around his neck, feigning a scowl. "Mr. Jakub, with three babies inside me, I weigh at least two thousand pounds."
His laughter erupted, full-bodied, his head tilting back. "Then I guess I don't need the gym anymore. You're my workout."
"You're a psychopath." I ruffled his hair, but couldn't hold back my grin.
He chuckled, brushing it off. "Nah. That was nothing—just the evidence of stress."
Thank God he's back to himself again. Exactly the way I like him: freshly shaved, ridiculously handsome, and dangerously striking. Even better, I get to braid his hair into neat rows now, my own small claim on him.
The sun was sinking low, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. To me, it almost seemed like it was melting into the sea.
Seb glanced at his Rolex. "Hell, it's getting late. We better head home before Mom freaks out."
The mental image of Adira chasing Sebastian around the penthouse with a spatula made me laugh out loud. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get going—oh!" My breath caught when Seb suddenly scooped me up into his arms.
"What is it?" he asked casually, striding toward the Range Rover.
I looped my arms around his neck, feigning a scowl. "Mr. Jakub, with three babies inside me, I weigh at least two thousand pounds."
His laughter erupted, full-bodied, his head tilting back. "Then I guess I don't need the gym anymore. You're my workout."
"You're a psychopath." I ruffled his hair, but couldn't hold back my grin.
---
There's a saying: a family without unity can never be called a family of love. For love and peace to reign, there has to be what they call unity. United we stand, divided we fall. A household is the pillar of a family's foundation—and when one pillar cracks, the entire body begins to falter.
I wasn't expecting it, but tonight Adira invited Sharon over for dinner. It's been six, maybe seven months since I last saw her. Ever since the fight, she had all but vanished from my life.
Yet Adira always mentioned how often Sharon asked about me. She said not a single phone call passed without Sharon inquiring after my wellbeing.
Somehow, I think Sharon is trying. Trying to reconcile, to mend what her actions fractured between me, Seb, and herself. For years, theirs has been a strong family bond, unshaken by storms—and then came that one slip, that one moment, that soured everything.
And Adira, wise as always, isn't just here to watch over me and my pregnancy. She's here because she wants to stitch back what's torn. To bring Seb and Sharon face-to-face again.
She hasn't said a word of it openly, and Seb hasn't broached it either. But as for me—the one who stood in the middle of it all, the one who bore the brunt—I've already forgiven Sharon. From the deepest part of me, I've let it go. Who am I to cling to grudges? I'm only human. We all stumble. We all fall short sometimes.
I couldn't quite read Seb's reaction to finding his only sister—his blood—sitting in his house. All I knew was that the silence grew thick and heavy whenever he was in our midst.
Thick silence.
When we arrived, Sharon was seated in the lounge, talking with Adira. The moment we stepped in, Adira excused herself to the kitchen. I knew what she was doing—giving the siblings space. I should've done the same, but I couldn't. My fingers were locked with Seb's, clinging to him like I might bolt any second.
And then I noticed her. Sharon. She was heavily pregnant—her belly twice the size of mine, her every movement etched with strain. Adira once told me Sharon's mother-in-law never left her side, just as she herself stayed with me. It reminded me of Bianca too, and how her mother shadowed her through her own pregnancy.
I dared not glance at Sebastian's face. The last thing I wanted to see was rage. My heart pounded as I imagined him dragging his sister out, tossing her through the gates like garbage—even in her condition.
God, let that not happen.
Sharon tried to rise, wincing, but couldn't manage it. And Seb just stood there, unmoving, his silence louder than any outburst. They locked eyes for what felt like forever. Then, wordlessly, he slipped his fingers from mine and walked upstairs. A moment later, his bedroom door slammed shut.
I gulped, a sick fear curling in my gut. What if he came back down armed, his temper blazing? The thought made my stomach twist—I swear, I'd rather die first.
But he didn't come back. Not yet.
I gathered my courage and walked toward Sharon. She saw me coming and tried to stand again, but I quickly raised a hand. "No, it's fine. Stay seated."
Her lips trembled. Guilt was written all over her face. "I'm sorry."
The words hit me like a soft blow. Words I least expected, spilling out in the most sincere way.
I turned to look at her fully, and my heart ached when I saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. I didn't stop her. Didn't tell her to hold it in. I just sat quietly, my eyes drifting between her swollen belly and mine—as if comparing who carried the heavier weight.
"I hurt you… and I hurt my brother too." Sharon lowered her gaze to her restless fingers. Her voice cracked as she tried to hold back tears. "I don't deserve forgiveness from either of you, but… I pray you'll spare me one. I'm deeply sorry for the pain I caused."
Her breaking words, the rawness of her apology, tugged at me. I couldn't pretend anymore.
I moved closer and pulled her into a sisterly embrace. "It's okay. I've forgiven you."
Her hot breath fanned against my chest, her tears soaking into my dress. I let her sob until she calmed, then eased her back gently.
"Thank you," she whispered, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Thank you for finding it in your heart to forgive me. I'm… grateful."
I nodded with a small smile, my gaze drifting to her swollen belly. "Pregnancy looks good on you."
She let out a laugh through her tears. "Thank you. And you too. You don't look bad in it either. I can see all the motherhood vibes floating around you."
Her words made me laugh softly, and soon we were chatting—light, unexpected, genuine. Somewhere between the giggles and random stories, I discovered a side of Sharon that rarely surfaced: open, sociable, almost sweet.
We were still deep in conversation when Adira emerged from the kitchen to announce dinner, but Sharon pulled me into another round of chatter. We ended up gossiping about everything and nothing, carried away like two ordinary women, not two broken pieces of the same fractured family.
Then the atmosphere shifted.
Seb strolled down the stairs, clad in loose pajama pants and a black hoodie. Instantly, our words died in the air. The silence was sharp, reverent, like a king had entered his courtroom and everyone was expected to rise.
He spared us a fleeting glance before heading straight toward the dining room—without a single word.
Sharon leaned closer, her eyes dim with sadness. "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"
"Of course, he will." At least, I thought, he hadn't lived up to the nightmare in my head—storming down with a revolver.
But Sharon still looked doubtful. She knew, as I did, that Sebastian was not easily swayed. Winning him over required more than grand gestures; with him, you had to prove yourself again and again until even your best never seemed enough.
Dinner was suffocating. The silence was wild and merciless, hanging like a storm cloud over the table. The only sounds were the delicate clink of cutlery against porcelain, and the quiet pour of juice into glasses.
Seb sat at the head of the table, Adira across from me, Sharon beside me. Four people eating in silence—each one carrying a weight too heavy for words.
"Where's your husband?"
My spoon nearly slipped from my grip. For the first time in thirty minutes, Sebastian had spoken.
Beside me, Sharon stiffened as though the ground had cracked open beneath her. Seven months of silence from her brother, broken by one question—it felt like an earthquake had just shaken the room.
I sneaked a glance at her. She dared to lift her eyes toward him, but Seb never looked up from his plate.
Her lips quivered as she flicked her gaze to me, silently asking if she should answer. I gave a small nod. She tried Adira next, but Adira kept her eyes down, her fork busy with her food as though the question hadn't landed.
Sharon swallowed, then lowered her eyes back to her plate. "In New Zealand." Her voice was faint, almost breaking.
Seb gave no sign of acknowledgment. Not even a nod.
I'd expected—hoped—he would say more, that maybe a thread of conversation might grow from that tiny start. But his silence afterward told me otherwise. The question hadn't been an opening; it had been a test.
So dinner returned to what it had been before: an oppressive quiet, broken only by the clink of cutlery and the slow pour of water into glasses.
When it was over, we drifted into the lounge. Sharon and I sat together on the couch, Adira in the armchair, the three of us letting a Netflix comedy fill the void. Laughter played from the television, but it barely touched us.
Then came the sound of measured footsteps on the stairs. I turned first, then Sharon and Adira followed.
Sebastian descended slowly, each step echoing like a gavel strike. In his hand, he carried a single rectangular sheet of paper.
In that moment, he was no longer my fiancé—he was the movie, the headline, the spectacle. All eyes locked on him.
My brows furrowed in confusion as Sharon's lips parted. He stopped in front of us and held the paper out to her.
She froze, glancing between him and the paper. His hand remained extended, steady, unyielding.
I nudged her side gently. "Take it."
Adira watched silently, her expression unreadable.
Finally, Sharon accepted it with trembling fingers. She lowered her eyes—and gasped.
Her head shot up, her voice cracking. "Ten billion dollars?"
Ten billion—what!?
I leaned over for a quick look, my heart racing. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Adira suppressing a smile.
It was true. Seb had just handed his baby sister a cheque worth ten billion US dollars.
I shifted my gaze to him, searching for something—anything—on his face. But his expression was unreadable, carved in stone, emotionless yet commanding.
Hands tucked into the pockets of his pajama pants, he straightened. His voice was calm, steady.
"I regret how I treated you, your friends, and your husband. I hope this small token can at least cover some of the damage. And… think of it as what I should have contributed to your wedding, though I wasn't there. I hope it makes up for something."
Small token. Ten billion. Only Sebastian could say it that way.
Sharon's eyes remained wide, disbelief spilling from every tear that welled in them. An apology—from him—and such a staggering gesture? He was the last person she expected forgiveness from.
When she looked at me, I smiled. Her lips trembled, and fresh tears glistened. It wasn't about the money—she was wealthy herself. It was the fact that her brother had reached out, not with fury this time, but with love.
She clutched the cheque tighter, then lifted her gaze to him. "I… Sebastian, this means so much to me. I'm grateful." She tried to stand, but he pressed her gently back onto the couch.
Then, without warning, he leaned in, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her forehead.
My smile stretched wide. Pride swelled in me—for the man I was going to marry.
"This," Adira said, rising with tears in her eyes, "this is what I've prayed for. Unity." She crossed over and hugged Sebastian tightly. "You've done something wonderful, my dear. I'm amazed."
For the first time in months, he smiled. "It's okay, Mommy. I should have done this seven months ago." His eyes found mine. "So? Is your heart at peace now?"
I nodded quickly, my grin so wide it hurt. "Yes. How do you even know my heart's been restless all this time?"
He raised a brow, a playful glint flickering. "How many months have we been together? Of course I know you."
Heat crept to my cheeks as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Fine. You know me too well. Can I at least steal one of your champagnes to celebrate this moment?"
His brows knitted instantly. He let go of Adira's embrace, his tone firm again. "No. I told you—you only get juice until the babies are born."
"The babies?" Sharon blinked at us, her voice lifting in surprise. Her gaze bounced from him to me.
"Yeah." I grinned proudly and lifted three fingers. "Triplets."
Sharon gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "You can't be serious! I'll be having quadruplets too!"
"That's nice." I beamed. "Making us two."
When Seb disappeared into the kitchen, Adira slipped into the space between Sharon and me. Her presence felt like a warm blanket.
"You two remind me of years ago when I was pregnant with Sebastian," she began.
I snuggled closer, eager for every detail of this folktale from her heart.
"He was so fragile and tiny when I first held him," Adira sighed sweetly, and both Sharon and I leaned in. "I hadn't eaten before labor began, so when he was born, he came out sucking his thumb."
Sharon wrinkled her nose, faking a gag. "Eww!"
I burst into laughter. "What a dirty boy."
Adira chuckled, shaking her head. "He's always been a foodie. As the months passed, he grew chubbier and chubbier. Every morning before school, I had to breastfeed him, then rush to prepare his lunch in advance. If I wasn't home when he got hungry, I'd leave him with a little milk in the bottle."
"Who got to feed him? A nanny?" Sharon propped her chin in her palm.
Adira's face grew serious. "No. Nannies back then were terrible—cruel, even. I never trusted them. I left Seb with my parents. Most times, my mother took care of him until I returned from school."
"But what if something happened to him when you weren't there? How would you even know?" I asked.
Adira shrugged her delicate shoulders. "Well… I'd feel it. My breasts would ache, and I knew he was either in trouble or missing me. One time, during a lecture, my nipples started leaking milk, soaking my shirt."
She broke into laughter. "That was the most embarrassing day of my life. I just knew Sebastian had cried his lungs out at home. My mother was so worried, she called me in class and begged me to leave and run home before he cried himself sick."
Her laughter softened into a tender smile. "Motherhood isn't easy, my dears. It was tough in my time. The only time I felt it lighten a little was when I had…" She turned to Sharon, "…you."
Sharon's lips curved proudly.
"Although," Adira continued, "you weren't a foodie like your brother. You barely cried for milk, and you stopped breastfeeding at only eight months. Unlike Seb, who didn't give it up until he was one."
"Mom?" Seb's voice came from the doorway. He walked in carrying a tray with four glasses of chilled juice, his brows lifting in mock horror. "Geez, how can you just announce to everyone that I was obsessed with breast milk?"
I burst out laughing when I saw the embarrassment written all over his face. "So, you used to cry nonstop and distract your poor mom from lectures?"
Sharon joined in, clutching her big belly as she laughed. "And you even got a teeter for lunch. Aww, baby boy couldn't survive without mommy's milk for his strong bones and teeth!"
Seb set the tray down on the coffee table with exaggerated calm, and we each picked a glass. "If I remember correctly, Sharon, you were the one who turned into a foodie later. I've seen a picture of you at ten—you were chubby."
Sharon's pout was instant. She turned her eyes to Adira in mock desperation, and Adira chuckled. "Well, it's true. Both of you were chubby and naughty. The only difference was that Sebastian ate more than Sharon."
Sharon's face lit up with victory. She stuck her tongue out at her brother, smug.
Seb lifted a glass, muttered something under his breath, and took a sip—clearly more interested in hiding his humiliation than defending himself.