When Love Finds Its Way Back (Cassienne and Dreston) novel Chapter 228

Chapter Two Hundred And Twenty–Eight: You’re Overreacting.

The morning light slipped gently through the curtains, settling softly across the bed where Cassienne lay. The room was wrapped in a delicate stillness, that fragile silence that only exists in the moments before the day truly begins.

Cassienne stirred, her lashes fluttering as she slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Dreston. He was already awake, lying beside her with one arm resting loosely across the pillow. His head was tilted slightly as he watched her with a gaze that held no distraction and no urgency to move. He looked as though he had been there for quite some time, simply reassuring himself that she was real.

Cassienne blinked against the light and smiled. “You’re staring,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

Dreston didn’t deny it. “I am,” he replied calmly..

Her smile deepened as she shifted under the covers, stretching languidly. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.”

Cassienne let out a small breath and pushed herself up against the headboard. Her hand moved instinctively toward her abdomen before she dropped it again, the gesture having already become second nature.

“I need to get ready,” she said, glancing toward the window. “I have three meetings this morning.”

Dreston’s expression shifted instantly. “You aren’t going anywhere today.”

Cassienne turned to him, looking more amused than annoyed. “That isn’t how work functions, Dreston. People are expecting me.”

“You’ve been working non–stop, even after everything we’ve been through.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

He sat up properly now, his full attention locked on her. “No, you aren’t.”

Cassienne sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to stand. “I’ll rest next week, I promise. But today is important; I really need to be there.”

She had barely pushed the covers aside when Dreston reached for her. His hand found her arm, and before she could argue further, he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn’t a rushed or demanding gesture; it was soft, intentional, and slow. Cassienne responded instinctively at first, her hand lifting toward him, but then she suddenly froze.

A wave of nausea hit her without warning, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She pulled away sharply, gasping his name, but couldn’t finish the sentence. She scrambled out of bed and hurried toward the bathroom with her hand over her mouth.

Dreston was on his feet immediately. He followed her into the bathroom, reaching her just as she leaned

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over the sink. Her body trembled as she grew sick, but Dreston stood firmly behind her. He kept one hand against her back to steady her, his presence a silent anchor while she struggled.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

He reached for a towel, running it under the tap before gently wiping her face. Cassienne leaned against the counter, her breathing shallow and uneven. “I’m fine,” she whispered weakly.

Dreston didn’t bother responding to the lie. He guided her patiently as she rinsed her mouth, his movements deliberate and calm. When she finally lifted her head, their eyes met in the mirror. Dreston’s expression tightened as he studied her reflection.

“You’re getting thinner,” he noted, his voice strained.

Cassienne frowned faintly at her image. “That isn’t true.”

“It is, and I don’t like it.”

“It’s just stress, Dreston.”

“No,” he said firmly. “It’s because you aren’t taking care of yourself. Today, you’re going to listen to me.”

There was no room for debate in his tone. Before she could resist, he guided her back into the bedroom. When she tried to protest again, he interrupted her with a calm but final command, easing her onto the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin.

“You are staying put,” he repeated.

Cassienne looked at him, torn between professional frustration and the genuine weakness lingering in her limbs. “I can’t just cancel everything.”

Dreston picked up his phone. “Watch me.”

He dialed her office immediately. “This is Dreston Tremont. Cancel all of Mrs. Tremont’s meetings for today.” After a brief pause from the secretary, he added, “Clear her schedule for the next few days as well. She won’t be coming in.”

Cassienne stared at him in disbelief, but he ended the call before she could speak. He immediately dialed another number. “I need the doctor at my residence right away.”

He hung up and turned back to her. Cassienne let out a weary breath. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m not,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

Shortly after, Mrs. Rawlings led the doctor into the room. Dreston stepped aside to give him space but remained close enough to hear every word. He explained the nausea and her lack of rest while the doctor began his examination.

The doctor checked her vitals and asked about her symptoms. “This is the first time it has been this severe,” Cassienne admitted.

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The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “That isn’t unusual. Early pregnancy can cause intense nausea, especially when combined with fatigue. You’ve been overworking yourself, and your body is finally pushing back.

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He looked at Dreston. “She needs proper rest. No unnecessary stress, no overexertion, and she must stay hydrated. I recommend light, frequent meals–fruits like apples and oranges, and a balanced diet rich in vitamins. But above all, she needs to take this seriously.”

After a few more instructions, the doctor departed. Mrs. Rawlings returned soon after with a bowl of warm, light soup. Dreston took it from her with a quiet thank you and sat beside Cassienne.

“Open up,” he said gently, lifting the spoon.

Cassienne smiled faintly. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Never.”

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