Chapter 137

Richard

pov.

The sound of forks clinking against plates filled the room, but the lunch conversation-or lack of it-was the real noise.

Marina had planted herself at the head of the table, her voice carrying on as though she were giving a lecture.

Sarah had been unusually quiet, her gaze mostly fixed on her plate, and I couldn't decide if she was counting bites or just trying to tune Marina out.

"Oh, Sarah," Marina chimed, cutting into her grilled chicken with exaggerated precision, "I couldn't help but notice the bread basket. You know, too much bread isn't great for the baby."

I paused mid-bite, the crust of my sandwich suddenly feeling heavier in my hand. Sarah's fork lingered on her plate, but she didn't look up. She was too polite to retort, or maybe she was just too tired of fighting.

"I think she's managing her diet perfectly," I said, trying to keep my tone light. "The doctor didn't mention anything about cutting carbs."

Marina smiled thinly, the kind of smile you knew wasn't real. "Oh, I'm sure. But doctors don't know everything. When Charlotte was expecting, she followed some wonderful advice from an old friend of ours-an experienced midwife. You know, natural wisdom sometimes beats all this modern science."

Charlotte is her younger sister. For whatever reason, she had decided to not get married but made it a point to be a marriage expert and relationship counselor.

of her water, her lips pursed, still

had a witty comeback ready, but Marina had a knack for disarming people, wrapping her critiques in a tone that made it hard to call her out without looking

I said, smiling wider than I felt. "And we're pretty happy with how things

her attention to her plate, but her silence didn't feel like a

mine for the briefest moment-a silent "thank you" that made

Sarah settled onto the couch with her tea, Marina

and breathing. You don't want labor to be harder

doing enough?" Marina pressed, settling herself on the armrest of the couch. "Walking is good, but you need something more focused. A proper routine. My sister swore by yoga, and her delivery

fiddling with a loose curtain tie. "She walks every day. I think

me, her smile almost condescending. "Of course, Richard. But it's not just about physical health. Mental and emotional well-being are just as important. Pregnant women need to avoid stress, you know." The irony was so thick you could cut it with a

think we're doing okay with that," I replied, my tone firm but not aggressive. "We're trying to keep things

chuckled lightly. "Well, you're a man, Richard. No offense, but you don't really understand what women go through during

doctor and follow their advice," I said, forcing a smile

said something cute. "Oh, I'm sure. But a little extra guidance from

edge of the bed, watching Sarah brush her hair at the vanity. The

of unsolicited wisdom, but I knew

okay?" I

but not entirely defeated. "I'm fine," she said, though the faint crease in her brow told

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