Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 433

**Chapter 433**

Sydney immersed herself fully in the soothing rhythm of the massage she was administering to Elizabeth, blissfully unaware of the simmering resentment lurking at the far end of the hallway. Her voice flowed easily as she chatted with Florence, a gentle cadence that filled the air with warmth and familiarity.

As Sydney’s skilled hands worked their magic, Elizabeth’s previously furrowed brow began to smooth out, the tension gradually melting away. She let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, her voice laced with nostalgia as she said to Florence, “If only Vee were here, she’d be right beside me, giving me a massage too.”

Memories of Vivian flooded back to Florence, taking her to a time when Vivian, not yet two years old, had returned to Brimcrest with her parents for the holidays. Even then, her words flowed like a gentle stream, her sentences complete and coherent while other children struggled to articulate their thoughts. The youngest and most affectionate member of the family, she had a way of wrapping everyone around her tiny finger, her charm irresistible.

Even Albus, who was known for his stoic demeanor, would crack a smile at her antics. Florence could vividly recall how Vivian would drape his military medals around her neck, treating them like precious toys, and he never once raised his voice in reprimand.

The mere mention of her youngest daughter brought a rush of emotion to Florence, a sting in her nose that threatened to turn into tears.

“Isn’t that the truth,” she whispered softly, almost to herself, the memory bittersweet.

Their Vee had always been such a gentle soul, a well-behaved child who seemed to embody kindness and joy.

Florence’s gaze drifted back to Sydney, a mix of admiration and suspicion swirling within her. If it weren’t for the fear of offending Sydney, she might have already taken the drastic step of ordering a DNA test, just to quell the nagging doubt in her mind. But reason prevailed; the likelihood of such a connection was almost nonexistent.

Sydney had grown accustomed to her solitary existence, yet the ache of parents who had lost a child lingered within her, a haunting presence for over twenty years. The thought of offering comfort felt like a weight too heavy to bear.

After all, after so many years, the possibility of finding that child again was nearly a fantasy.

As the massage came to a close, Florence felt a pang of concern for Sydney’s well-being. “You should head upstairs and rest for a bit,” she urged gently, her maternal instincts kicking in.

Since the morning sickness had subsided, Sydney’s primary symptom of pregnancy had become an overwhelming sense of drowsiness.

She settled back on the bed, intending to lose herself in a book for a while, but the heaviness in her eyelids betrayed her intentions. Before she realized it, she had drifted off into a deep slumber.

When she finally awoke, the room was bathed in a soft golden light as the sun dipped low on the horizon. The sounds of laughter and animated chatter floated in from outside—the guests for Albus’s birthday celebration had begun to arrive, filling the air with joy.

But it wasn’t the cheerful noise that stirred her from her dreams; it was the insistent ringing of her phone.

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