A Change of Heart // Sebastian Sallow

Chapter 53

Florence resumed her position on the lounge as Sebastian left for the day, finding her favourite spot to stare at on the ceiling. She eyed the perfectly chiselled cornices, admiring the leafy patterns. She noticed the tiny spider that had made it's way to the corner in a small web, making a mental note to dust it away whenever she decided to get up next.

She abruptly opened her eyes as the clock struck midday, the chime scaring her awake. She didn't realise she had fallen asleep. Again.

She rolled herself off the lounge, trying to be delicate but probably looking more like a sack of potatoes being rolled of a cliff face.

"Urghh..." she grunted to herself, trying to stand on her feet.

"Almost time to get out, you..." she grumbled, running her hand across the top of her abdomen, hoping to move a foot or two out of her rib cage to catch her breath again.

She made herself some toast, remembering she hadn't eaten breakfast at all. She sat at the dining table, finding yet another cornice to stare at, also admiring it's leafy features that were all too similar to the ones in the other corner.

She sighed to herself, thinking of ideas to keep herself occupied.

The bookshelf. It needed organising.

She pulled down all of Sebastian's assorted parchments and quills and placed them aside, deciding all of the books needed to be stood upright now and colour coordinated.

But... colour coordinated didn't look right.

Maybe, sorted by size.

Nope, too many to sort through.

Alphabetical order?

Too many again.

Maybe it was a job for Sebastian later. It would probably take his mind off things, cataloguing all his books.

She decided to just stack them all upright, making a neat pile for his parchment at the end of one of the shelves and placing his quills in an old jar.

She stood back and admired her work.

"Ouch..." she said, feeling a twinge in her pelvis. That was her queue to sit down after all her hard work of not sorting the books even slightly like she'd intended.

Laying on the lounge didn't really help her pain at all, she rolled left, she rolled right.

"Stop it." she poked her stomach, hoping her child was going to obey her.

Hopefully not an omen for things to come, the pains got worse. The child didn't listen.

"Just like your father..." she whispered to herself, sitting upright.

In a last ditch effort to relieve the intermittent pain, she drew herself a warm bath and slid her aching body inside. The tip of her perfectly rounded stomach peeked out from the top of the water.

While it helped some of the pain, it was definitely still there.

"Fuck... not now..." she whispered to herself again, still holding on to the glimmer of hope that maybe this was just gas or the baby sitting wrong and it would go away soon.

She stayed in the bath until it was too cold to be in any longer before making an attempt at a graceful effort of getting out and throwing on a nightgown, laying herself in her bed. She closed her eyes, hoping she would sleep and wake up and be fine.

Chime.

The clock again. 4pm. 4 hours of pain, it was getting worse.

Florence grunted, pulling herself out of bed praying that Sebastian would be walking through the door at any minute when she felt a popping sensation. Then a feeling like she'd just wet her pants.