You're important

Bella nodded slowly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. "And I love that you care that much. I really do. But let me do this my way. Please."

Lucas didn't take her hand this time. His jaw tightened instead. "So you're saying I'm holding you back?" His voice was low, but there was a sharpness under it now. Her brow furrowed. "That's not what I said."

"But that's what it sounds like, Bella." He pushed his chair back slightly, not in anger, but in discomfort. "You say you want to be independent. Fine. But what does that make me? Just the man who pays the bills?"

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Lucas, no. That's not fair."

"I'm not trying to be unfair," he said, standing now, pacing a step or two. "I just— I've never asked you to prove anything. I never wanted you to feel like you had to earn your place here."

"I don't feel that way," Bella said, her voice quiet but steady. "I just want to feel like I'm still capable. That I haven't lost myself."

He turned to her, frustrated now. "So working is the only way to be capable?"

"That's not what I said!" she snapped, and for a moment the room felt heavier.

She stood up too, placing her palms on the table. "I'm not saying you're not doing enough. You're doing everything. And maybe that's the problem—I'm watching you do it all while I sit at home and... just paint. Cook. Wait. That's not me, Lucas."

Lucas's lips parted slightly, like he was about to speak, but he hesitated. There was something vulnerable in her voice that struck him. "You think I'm asking too much of you," she added, softer now. "But really, all I'm asking is for a chance to be more than just... a wife and a mother. Just a bit of who I used to be."

Before he could respond, the sharp ding-dong of the doorbell broke through the moment. They both turned their heads toward the door, the tension still suspended between them, unsaid things still hanging in the air. Lucas exhaled, the tension in his shoulders still visible. "It's probably Mark."

Without another word, he moved to the door, pulled it open, and—sure enough—Mark stood there holding a file and a bag of something that looked suspiciously like croissants. "Bad time?" Mark asked with a raised brow, immediately sensing the shift in atmosphere.

Lucas gave a tight nod and stepped aside. "You could say that."

Bella returned with a polite smile and handed Mark a steaming cup of coffee. Mark thanked her, and after taking a sip, glanced between the two of them — reading the air quickly.

"You made a good call on those wedding preparations, Bella," he said casually. "Even Mr. 'Control Everything' here had to admit they were good."

Bella's eyes sparkled, and she let out a light laugh — but there was something pointed beneath it. "Well, at least someone still respects my decisions," she said sweetly, tossing a sideways glance at Lucas before turning on her heel. "Excuse me. I'll be in the bedroom."

The jab hit its mark. Lucas's eyes narrowed slightly as she walked away, and then he turned slowly toward Mark, who was now conveniently sipping his coffee with great interest in the cup. Lucas folded his arms and raised his brow.

"Did you two fight?" Mark raised his hands in defense. "Hey, I just walked in."

Lucas sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing a hand down his face. "She wants to work. Make a resume. Said she needs to feel independent."

"And... you're against it?" Mark asked carefully.

"I'm not against her," Lucas muttered. "It's just… there's too much going on. The stalker. The parcel. She's pregnant. And then I read your update—he's still not talking. All of that just... stacked up. And I guess I... let it out on her."

Mark sat beside him, looking thoughtful. "You know, it's not wrong to worry. But venting your anger on her? That's where it gets tricky."

Lucas frowned. "She snapped at me too."

"Yeah, but let's be honest," Mark said with a small shrug, "this might be the first time she's seen you this angry. She probably didn't know what to do with that. You're usually… calm. Always in control."

Lucas leaned back, processing that. Mark took another sip of coffee. "You love being the protector. That's who you are. But Bella's not a porcelain doll, and she's not asking to go climb a mountain. She just wants to feel like she's still herself."

Lucas exhaled heavily, then picked up the folder Mark brought. "Right." He flipped through the documents and signed them with sharp, practiced strokes.

"Tell security to keep the stalker alive. But I'm coming down there soon. I'll make him talk."

Mark gave a short nod. "Understood. And maybe tell Bella you don't think she's fragile — just important."

Lucas's pen paused. He didn't look up, but the tightness in his shoulders eased.

"Thanks, Mark."

Once Mark left, the house fell into a soft, tense quiet. Lucas stood outside the bedroom door for a few seconds, his hand resting on the knob as if waiting for it to turn on its own. With a quiet sigh, he opened it and stepped inside.

Bella was sitting on the bed, back propped against the headboard, scrolling through her phone with a perfectly unreadable expression. No trace of the earlier tension — but no warmth either. A carefully placed wall.

Lucas moved to the other side of the bed and sat down, maintaining a respectful distance. He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees, glancing at her sideways. "Are you still mad?"

Bella didn't look up from her screen. "I'm not mad," she said evenly. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"That's worse." Still no response.

"I know I shouldn't have raised my voice," he finally said, his voice quieter, more controlled now. "I wasn't just upset about the resume, Bella. I was just angry over something else too. And I… I let it all mix together."

She lowered her phone at that, but her face stayed neutral. Lucas met her gaze. "I'm sorry. Truly. You didn't deserve to be at the receiving end of my frustration. I know you're not fragile. I don't think you are. I just—" he paused, searching for the right words, "—you're important. You and the baby. And I get scared, sometimes. That something might happen. That's why I reacted the way I did."

Bella looked at him quietly for a moment, then said softly, "It wasn't something to be that angry about."

"I know," he said. "And I didn't mean to dismiss your need to work. I just… worry." Her eyes softened slightly, her posture relaxing. "I'm sorry too," she said. "I misjudged your intentions. I thought you just didn't want me to be independent."

Lucas gave a dry chuckle. "You're the most independent woman I know. You just… you don't have to carry everything alone." Bella looked at him, this time with the faintest smile touching her lips. "So… we agree?"

Lucas nodded. "You can work. But from home, at least for now. That way I won't lose my mind worrying, and you won't feel tied down." She tilted her head, considering it, then gave a nod of her own. "That sounds fair. And maybe I'll let you read my resume."

He raised an eyebrow. "Only if I get to fix the formatting." Bella laughed softly, her tension finally slipping away. She shifted closer on the bed, brushing her fingers lightly against his. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For seeing me."

Lucas turned to face her fully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Always."