Christopher's Playhouse

Chapter 14: Felicia

Los Angeles, California:

Christopher woke up to an empty bed, feeling like a completely different person. The weight that usually pressed down on him was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar lightness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night without interruptions, without the dark thoughts that usually crept in before dawn. He glanced around the spacious room, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, but there was no sign of Sloane. He dragged himself out of bed slowly, his body heavy with the unfamiliar ease of rest.

He took his time in the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his skin as he tried to shake off the grogginess. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he stood in front of the mirror for a moment, studying his reflection. His face seemed softer, more relaxed, a stark contrast to the tight, guarded expression he'd grown used to. He decided against dressing up, opting for comfort—throwing on a pair of boxers and grey joggers, the casualness feeling foreign to him after years of structure and precision.

Hopping on the elevator, he descended to the main floor of the house. The sleek chrome doors slid open, revealing the familiar scene below. All nine women were gathered in the living room, sitting around the table, engrossed in breakfast while hanging on to Sloane's every word. Christopher stepped out quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips. She had on one of his robes, he loved how she was immediately comfortable.

"I won the pageant, don't get me wrong, but it was completely embarrassing," Sloane was saying, her voice light and full of humor as the women listened with rapt attention.

Felicia, always direct, cut in with a question. "What made you become an assistant? Why didn't you finish med school and become a surgeon?"

"You could operate on me any day," Lena quipped, making the others chuckle. Sloane shook her head with a small smile, her eyes gleaming with warmth.

"Honestly? I never wanted to be a doctor. That was my mother's dream, not mine. I wanted to model, to sing, to be a star." She shrugged, but the passion in her voice was undeniable.

"You still could," Leah said, raising an eyebrow, her tone laced with sincerity.

"You're so pretty, you really could," Jalea chimed in, her voice soft with admiration.

Sloane's cheeks flushed slightly as she smiled at them. "Thank you, baby. You're gorgeous yourself." She shifted, her attention sweeping across the group. "So, what did you all do before... well, before Christopher came into the picture?"

"I ran a non-profit for battered women," Lena said. "Christopher used to donate a lot of money to it."

"Is the organization still running? What made you give it up for this?" Sloane's tone shifted, curious but empathetic. It was like she had an invisible thread connecting her to each of the women, drawing them in with every word, every glance. She made them feel seen, made them feel important, and that was something not many could do so effortlessly.

"I guess working so much just got exhausting. I let Christopher handle the day-to-day, but now... I'm happy to relax. I don't miss worrying about everything."

"And it's doing great," Christopher interjected, his deep voice cutting through the room like silk. The women turned to look at him, but he waved them off casually. "We just acquired an apartment complex to expand our housing program, and we've expanded into three different states." His voice held the quiet authority he was known for, but he let Sloane take the spotlight, stepping back into his comfortable role of observer. "Don't mind me, ladies. Sloane has your time right now."