Chapter 218

~ Franklin ~

Something was wrong with Octavia.

I could feel it. The way she’d been since yesterday, the way her eyes didn’t quite focus when I was talking to her, the way she’d jump at small sounds. She was keeping something from me. I knew her well enough by now to recognize when she had something bothering her. A secret. A fear. Something she didn’t want to burden me with.

But I didn’t push.

Instead, I held her close that night, kissed the top of her head, and whispered that everything would be okay. I didn’t ask questions. I just made sure she felt safe, secure, loved. Sometimes that was enough. Sometimes a woman didn’t need words, she needed to know that someone was there, that she wasn’t alone, that whatever she was carrying, she didn’t have to carry it by herself.

I wrapped my body around hers, my hand resting on her stomach where our baby was growing. "I’ve got you," I whispered. "Both of you."

She exhaled, finally relaxing into me. Within minutes, she was asleep.

The next morning, I woke to find her already awake, staring out at the window, she was lost in thought. I studied her for a moment, the way the light caught her face, the slight furrow between her brows. She looked exhausted. Worried. I wonder what was bothering her so much.

"Come back to bed," I said, wrapping my arms around her from behind. "Let’s not go out today."

She turned to look at me, surprised. "Really? But we have so much to see."

"I don’t care about seeing anything," I said simply, pulling her closer. "I want to stay here. With you. In our own little world. Just us and the view. We can order food, we can talk, we can just... be together. I think that’s what you need. What we need."

She relaxed into me, and I felt her exhale, like she’d been holding her breath.

"Okay," she whispered. "Just us today."

By afternoon, we were lounging on the terrace, wrapped in blankets despite the warmth, talking about everything and nothing. Octavia had her head on my chest, her hand resting on my heart.

"What do you want to do?" I asked, running my fingers through her hair. "With your career, I mean. Beyond the new position Miranda offered. I want to know what makes you happy. What’s the dream you haven’t told anyone about?"

She was quiet for a long moment, thinking. "I don’t know," she said slowly. "Sometimes I think about doing something completely different. Something that’s just mine, you know? Something creative."

"Like what?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"A game app," she said, turning to look at me, almost embarrassed. "I’ve always wanted to build something creative. Not just corporate work. Something fun. Something people would actually enjoy playing. Something that matters but isn’t... this." She gestured vaguely, and I understood. She meant the corporate world. The pressure. The expectations.

I pulled her closer, imagining her creating something from nothing. An entire world, built by her imagination. "You should do it," I said.

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "Just like that? Don’t you think that’s crazy? I have no experience in app development."

"You’ll learn," I said simply. "You’re the smartest person I know, Octavia. You learned how to navigate corporate politics. You learned how to save a company. You learned how to save me." I tilted her chin up so she was looking at me. "You can build a game app. And I’ll support you completely. Build your app. Make something that’s entirely yours. I want that for you. I want you to have something that’s just about joy, just about creation, just about you."

She kissed me then, deeply and thoroughly, and I felt like the luckiest man alive. This was what marriage was supposed to be, supporting each other’s dreams, believing in each other even when the world doubted.

Later, when grandpa called for our video check-in, Octavia and I were tangled together on the bed, laughing about something silly that had happened earlier.

"Franklin! Octavia!" His face appeared on screen, beaming with that grandfatherly warmth. "My two favorite people. Tell me you’ve been making some grandbabies! I’m not getting any younger, you know."

Octavia’s face went red, and she buried it in my chest. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. If only he knew that in some months time, he’d be a grandfather.

"Grandpa, give us some time," I said, pulling her closer. "But we’re definitely working on it."

"You better be," Frederick said, winking. "I want to hold a Flemington heir before I pass away."

We caught up with him for another thirty minutes, talked about his recovery, his upcoming doctor’s appointments, his new development for the company’s legacy. By the time we hung up, Octavia had nestled into my chest, and her breathing had evened out into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep.

I laid her down gently on the pillow and covered her with the soft blanket, watching her for a moment. Even while sleeping, she looked stressed. Whatever was bothering her, I’d find out eventually. But for now, she needed rest.

I wasn’t tired, though. My mind was still too active, too full of thoughts about the company and our future. Octavia would absolutely kill me if she woke up and found me working during our honeymoon, so I grabbed my laptop quietly and moved to the living room of our suite, settling into one of the comfortable chairs by the window. I chuckled to myself, imagining that look she’d give me, adored and scolded all at once.

I opened my emails, scrolling through the usual, work requests, board meeting updates, administrative stuff about the restructuring. Nothing urgent. Nothing that couldn’t wait until we were back in New York.

Then a new message dropped.

I thought it was another work mail, until I read the content. Just a simple message, passed across. But yet, it disturbed me so much.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

I stared at my screen, my mind racing. How?

My first instinct was to go to Octavia, to wake her up, to tell her what I had just heard.

But she was sleeping so peacefully. And she was pregnant. Stress wasn’t good for her or the baby.

But now was not the time to panic. I have to gather myself, I have to protect my family at all cost.