Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 551

**When The Ocean Learned My Name and Whispered It Back to You**
**by Aurelia**
**Chapter 551**

Julian had pondered the notion before, the idea of taking a significant step forward. Yet, a flicker of concern danced in his mind—would it appear too hasty? Just recently, they had solidified their relationship, having only dated for a handful of days, yet here he was, contemplating the prospect of marriage. Would Sydney perceive this as overwhelming?

He took a moment to carefully consider his next words. “I’ll find a way to bring it up with her,” he resolved, the determination settling in his chest.

If she were to express a desire to marry him, that would be nothing short of ideal. But if she wasn’t ready, they could enjoy the journey of dating properly for a couple of years before diving into such a commitment.

Agatha’s voice echoed in his mind, reminding him that haste rarely led to anything fruitful. “You better keep it in mind,” she had warned, her tone grave yet protective.

Sydney was a remarkable woman, and he knew that suitors would flock to her from every corner.

Julian couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a hint of agreement passing through him. He turned, heading upstairs with a sense of purpose. As he approached Sydney’s door, he knocked gently, the sound echoing in the stillness. But there was no reply.

Was she asleep?

He glanced down, noticing a thin strip of light peeking out from beneath the door.

He was well aware of her fiery temperament. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he thought of her stubbornness. “If you don’t open the door, I’ll just have to come in myself,” he called out playfully, though his heart raced with anticipation.

Silence enveloped him.

He tried the handle, only to find it locked. A mild wave of frustration washed over him, pressing against his brow like a weight. He chose to say nothing more and turned away, leaving her to her thoughts.

Inside, Sydney lay half-reclined on her bed, a book resting in her hands, yet her gaze kept drifting toward the door, a mixture of hope and uncertainty swirling within her.

The hallway fell silent, and the stillness was palpable.

She pressed her lips together, attempting to focus on the words on the page, but her mind refused to settle. It was a belief she held dear that parents should embrace a pregnancy with calm acceptance and unconditional love. She had always thought Julian shared her sentiments about the balance of boys and girls, even imagining he might prefer a daughter. The sudden thought of him having a preference for a son had never crossed her mind, leaving her feeling unsettled.

With a gentle touch, she placed her hand on her belly, whispering softly, “Don’t be upset. If your father prefers boys, then I’ll only have you.”

Tiffany had endured enough under the weight of such outdated beliefs. Sydney vowed that her own daughter would never face that kind of pressure. If Julian clung to such views, she would raise this one child with all the love and strength she could muster.

As drowsiness washed over her, she succumbed to sleep, her body sinking into the mattress before she even fully lay down.

Meanwhile, Julian pushed the door open, stepping into the room to find her in that serene state. Her black hair fanned out across the pillow, and her lips rested slightly apart, a picture of tranquility.

At the sound of the door creaking, her lashes fluttered, and moments later, her body slid downward, disappearing beneath the soft down comforter.

The blanket shifted, revealing her delicate, pale feet peeking out. Since childhood, any noise during her sleep had roused her, a reflex she had never outgrown.

Julian approached the foot of the bed, careful not to disturb her. He left the blanket undisturbed for the moment, then reached out, his fingers playfully tickling the bottom of her foot. The reaction was immediate; she shot back under the covers, a muffled sound escaping her lips.

A faint, impatient murmur followed. “Julian, don’t mess with me…”

Though he didn’t catch her words clearly, he chose to relent, not wanting to provoke her further. Instead, he turned off the light, slipping under the comforter and drawing her into his arms.

For years, she had slept alone, and the added weight of his presence stirred her. She instinctively pressed her cheek against his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of agarwood, and a sense of calm washed over her.

Sleep tugged at her once more, but a low, warm voice broke through the haze. “You awake?”

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