The big apartment had never felt so small.
Nancy felt his eyes on her all the time. Theodore did not need to be in the room. She could feel him thinking about her. It was like a constant pressure on her skin.
At first, it was just phone calls. "Did you eat?" "Are you tired?" Simple questions.
Then it changed.
Suddenly, there were new people in her life. A doctor who visited three times a week. A woman who planned all her meals. A man who made her do gentle exercises. They all worked for Theodore. They all reported to him.
She was not a person anymore. She was a project.
One morning, she looked at her breakfast. Steamed spinach. Plain chicken. A glass of green juice. It was all so healthy and so boring.
She pushed the plate away. "I'm not hungry."
The cook looked nervous. "Mr. Roosevelt said—"
"I don't care what he said!" Nancy snapped.
The cook hurried away. A few minutes later, Theodore walked in. He moved like he owned the air in the room. Maybe he did.
"I hear you're giving the staff a hard time," he said. His voice was calm.
"They're not staff. They're my guards," she shot back.
The corner of his mouth moved. Almost a smile. He came closer. "You agreed to this. Your health is important. The babies' health is important."
She crossed her arms over her growing stomach. "Is it my health you care about? Or your property?"
Something changed in his eyes. For a second, he looked almost hurt. Then it was gone.
"Think what you want," he said flatly. "But you will follow the rules."
She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream. But she looked down at her stomach. She thought of the two little lives inside her. Her anger faded.
She said nothing.
Theodore watched her. He ran a hand through his hair. He did that when he was thinking.
"Your feet are swollen," he said quietly.
She looked down. He was right. Her ankles looked puffy.
"You should rest," he said. His voice was rough.
"I'm fine," she muttered, but her words had no strength.
He stepped closer. His hand came up, almost touching her arm. For a moment, she thought he would lead her to the couch. But he stopped.
They stood there, too close. The air felt thick and heavy. She could smell his soap. She could see the tired lines around his eyes.
Her heart beat too fast.
Finally, she took a step back. "I'll rest later."
He nodded once, his jaw tight. He walked to the kitchen counter and looked at her vitamin pills. He counted them to make sure she had taken them all.
Nancy escaped to her room.
---
The days began to look the same.
Wake up. Eat a planned meal. Light exercise. Doctor's visit. Rest.
And Theodore was always there.
Sometimes he watched from across the room, his face hard. Other times, he was close. He would hand her a glass of water. He would put a pillow behind her back. His touches were gentle, but they burned her skin.
Her body reacted to him in ways she could not control. A brush of his fingers made her shiver. A look from his dark eyes made her forget how to breathe.
She told herself it was the pregnancy. It was her hormones. It was not him.
She almost believed it.
---
One night, she could not sleep. She walked into the empty room that would be the nursery.
The walls were painted a soft cream color. There was no furniture yet. No cribs. No toys. It was just an empty space, full of promise.
She put a hand on her stomach. She felt a small movement inside. A little flutter.
Life. Two little lives.
The door opened behind her. She did not need to turn. She knew it was him.
"You should be sleeping," Theodore said. His voice was soft.
"I couldn't," she whispered.
She heard him walk into the room. He stopped beside her. Close, but not touching.
"This room will be different soon," she said. "When it's full... it will feel real."
He was quiet for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was raw. "It already is real."
She turned to look at him. The hard mask was gone. He was not a billionaire. He was not a boss.
He was just a man. A man who was scared. A man who was amazed. A man who was just as lost as she was.
Their eyes met.
The whole world disappeared. There was only this room. This moment.
For a heartbeat, she thought he would kiss her.
And God, she wanted him to.
But he blinked. The moment broke. He took a step back, his hands curling into fists.
"You need to rest," he said, his voice rough. He turned and walked away.
Nancy stood alone in the empty room. Her chest ached with a feeling she could not name.
There was a wall between them. A wall made of money and contracts and fear.
But every day, that wall got a little smaller. And she did not know how much longer it could stand.