Chapter 194: Fulfilling Cravings
Hellen chuckled softly under her breath and pressed a light, affectionate kiss to my temple. "Of course, together, just as you want—whatever this baby is craving, we’ll make it happen without fail."
That made me cry and laugh at the exact same time in a messy, confusing rush, which only annoyed me more with myself, but it also made the whole room feel noticeably warmer and safer somehow in an instant.
Their voices stayed gentle and patient after that, coaxing me back to calm little by little with steady words, until my breathing finally started to even out properly and the sharp panic in my chest eased away into something manageable.
"Let’s move you over to the couch for a bit," Ivory suggested practically, reaching out carefully as if I might shatter into pieces if handled too roughly. "Then you can be as dramatic as you need to be there in full comfort."
I sniffed again and shot her a weak glare that carried no real heat or anger behind it whatsoever. "I am not being dramatic about any of this, you know."
Ana raised one eyebrow sceptically in that signature way of hers. "You were just demanding pastry and pickles a minute ago like it was quite literally a matter of life and death for all of us."
I opened my mouth to argue right back at her, then stopped short because I realized with a flush that what she said was actually completely true and undeniable.
Hellen helped me up slowly and deliberately, keeping one strong arm wrapped securely around me the whole time while I steadied myself on wobbly legs.
"Come on, let’s get you settled," she said softly, her tone full of warmth. "You can be as moody as you like on the couch instead of right here in my lap."
That made me huff out a watery little laugh despite myself, and finally, finally, the tears began to calm down and subside.
Even then, with everything settling, I still felt so fragile and exposed, still raw and strange and far too full of swirling emotions that threatened to overflow at any moment, but I was definitely not alone in any of it.
They kept coaxing me patiently with their soft words and careful, reassuring hands, letting me grumble and cry and change my mind as often as the whims struck without a hint of judgment.
And somewhere beneath all the endless tears and insatiable cravings and these impossible, ever-shifting moods, I could feel it again pulsing steadily—that quiet, aching truth that this fear was only one vital part of the entire journey we were on together.
The other part, just as real and powerful, was the growing love binding us all.
Then I apologized to them all, my voice still a little shaky and unsteady from the emotional rollercoaster, because the guilt hit me almost as quickly and fiercely as the original craving had struck earlier on.
I had been so difficult and overly emotional throughout it all, and even though they had remained endlessly patient with every outburst, I still felt genuinely bad for snapping at them when all they were truly trying to do was help and support me through this.
Ivory nodded once in quiet acceptance, looking far less annoyed or frustrated now than she had moments before, and turned toward the kitchen without another word of protest.
A few minutes later, she came back carrying exactly what I had demanded—a perfect plate of flaky pastry paired with crisp pickles—and the sight of it alone made my whole face brighten up instantly with pure delight.
I took the food from her eagerly, my hands almost snatching it, and ate with obvious, unbridled happiness, finally feeling that stubborn craving settle into something deeply warm and satisfying deep in my belly.
For a little while after that, I was too blissfully busy enjoying every single bite and savouring the strange but perfect combination to think about anything else in the world.
Then I looked up at them from my spot on the couch and casually told them to eat some too, because it suddenly seemed wildly unfair that I was the only one enjoying this food while they all just stood there watching me intently without partaking.
Their faces went pale almost instantly, as if I had suggested something truly alarming.
One after another, they shook their heads in firm refusal, reacting as if the very idea alone was dangerous or forbidden in some way.
"No, absolutely not," one of them said quickly, without hesitation.
"I’m completely fine without it, thanks," another added a little too fast, avoiding my eyes.
"Absolutely not happening," Ivory muttered under her breath, already looking horrified at the mere thought of trying it.
I frowned at them deeply, still mid-bite with a pickle in hand, not understanding at all why they were reacting with such exaggerated drama.
"What’s wrong with you all?" I asked around the food in my mouth, genuinely puzzled. "Why are you making those faces like it’s poison?"
They only kept shaking their heads stubbornly, clearly unwilling to take even one single bite of the same bizarre thing I was devouring so happily.
That made me pause for a second mid-chew, then narrow my eyes at them suspiciously with growing curiosity. "You’re all being so dramatic about this—it’s just food."
"We are being careful and cautious for good reason," Hellen said at once, though her expression remained a little strained with lingering discomfort.
I huffed in mild exasperation and went back to my food without pushing further, but I could feel their eyes fixed on me the whole time, all of them still pointedly refusing to eat anything, as if my pregnancy cravings were somehow contagious or dangerous to them specifically.
Their concern was annoying in the moment, yes, driving me a bit crazy with its intensity, but it was also oddly sweet and touching in the way it proved just how seriously and devotedly they were taking my needs and this entire pregnancy now.
