Page 86 of Slightly Married
“Traitor,” I muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.
Leni, ever the professional, smiled pleasantly. “The partner who will be in the delivery room should ideally be the one practicing these techniques.”
After a long moment, I nodded. “Fine.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, pretending to be inconvenienced even as warmth spread through me at the thought of his hands on my body.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” I said with feigned reluctance. “Sit behind me,” I instructed, resettling awkwardly onto the mat.
His large frame enveloped mine as he positioned himself, his chest against my back, legs stretched alongside mine. His hands hovered near my shoulders.
“Like this,” Leni guided, placing his palms to rest on either side of my belly. The baby kicked immediately, as if recognizing his touch.
“She likes you,” I said softly.
His breath caught. “Remarkable.”
For the rest of the session, we moved together synchronously. As Leni packed up her things, Konstantin’s hand lingered where our daughter had kicked, his palm warm against my stretched skin.
I allowed myself to imagine us as a family—not just co-parents, but something whole and connected. When Konstantin finally helped me to my feet, his fingers interlaced with mine for longer than necessary, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
The weeks merged together as I divided my time between Athens and Thalassía, supervising the villa’s transformation while my body underwent its own dramatic changes. At thirty-four weeks pregnant, everything required more effort, but watching Thalassía bloom under my direction made every discomfort worthwhile.
“What do you think?” I asked Domna and Irida as we stepped through the grand salon where workers installed the final pieces of furniture.
“Magnificent,” Domna remarked, turning slowly. “You’ve transformed it completely.”
“Hold up!” I called to the men positioning the massive olive wood coffee table. “Three inches to the left. It needs to be perfectly centered with the fireplace.” I waddled over and pointed to the exact spot I envisioned.
The workers adjusted the piece, and I nodded with satisfaction when it aligned precisely with my vision. A sudden tightness gripped my abdomen. I placed one hand against the doorframe and the other on my belly, breathing through the discomfort.
“Are you alright?” Irida asked.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, forcing a smile as the Braxton Hicks contraction subsided. “Just practise contractions.”
Across the room, Konstantin, dressed in casual linen pants and a fitted t-shirt, excused himself from a security system contractor and crossed the space in long strides, a water bottle already in hand.
“Here,” he said, offering it to me. “You’ve been on your feet for over two hours.”
I accepted the water, surprised he’d been tracking my movements. “Thank you.”
“You need to sit.”
“No, I’m fine,” I insisted, taking a sip. “Really. Just the usual Braxton Hicks.”
He nodded once, accepting my assessment without argument, though he remained within sight as I continued the tour.
The grand salon featured handwoven rugs from local artisans layered over herringbone oak floors, with contemporary linen sofas surrounding the massive stone fireplace.
“The chandelier installers are coming tomorrow,” I explained, gesturing to the temporary lighting. “An artist in Santorini creates lighting from reclaimed fishing nets and sea glass. It’ll be the centerpiece.”
A worker approached with fabric samples, and I immediately pointed to the ocean-toned linen. “This one is for the west-wing bedroom windows.”
“The library is my favorite,” Irida admitted as we continued, stepping around ladders and crates.
“Be careful with these books!” I called to the team unpacking leather-bound volumes. “Some are over a century old.” I turned to Irida. “I ordered first editions of Greek poets for the north wall.”
I’d designed the library with floor-to-ceiling walnut bookshelves, a rolling ladder, and intimate reading nooks overlooking the sea. When the carpenter suggested a more modern design, I’d insisted on traditional craftsmanship for the warmth it would bring.
