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“Mark,” I whisper, voice raw. “Talk to me. Please.”
He’s silent, his gaze fixed on our joined hands. After a long moment, his eyes meet mine, intense and steady.
“I mean what I’m about to say, Quinn,” he says, voice low, rough. “I’m here for you and the baby. No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, Mark,” I whisper, tears welling.
“I wish you'd told me sooner you were pregnant. Is that why you ran?” he asks.
“Partly,” I murmur.
He nods, acknowledging my truth. “I know I didn’t make things easy, didn’t say what I should have when I should have shouted my feelings from the rooftops in sheer joy. But I’m willing to do anything to prove I’m here—for you, for our child.”
I search his face, finding only sincerity. “I know,” I whisper.
He reaches out, fingers grazing my cheek. The tenderness makes my breath catch. I lean into his touch, letting myself feel this moment of connection, of safety.
***
Over the next few days, as I recover in the hospital, Mark will be a constant presence at my side. He will bring me prenatal vitamins and ensure I take them religiously. When I shiver from the hospital's overzealous air conditioning, he will tuck an extra blanket around me, his hands lingering on my shoulders.
And when the bland hospital food becomes unbearable, he sneaks in a pizza from my favorite place. “Just don't tell the nurses,” he whispers conspiratorially, with a playful grin on his face.
These small gestures, these moments of care and attention, tell me I made the right decision to call him that day, Charlie Letvin took me. Here’s a man who wants to build a life with me and be a father to our child.
I know it’s not going to be easy. We have a lot of baggage and many obstacles to overcome. But as I watch Mark doze in the chair beside my bed, his hand resting protectively on my belly, I feel a flicker of something that feels dangerously like hope.
Maybe we can do this. Maybe we can find our way to each other, to that family I always dreamed of having. It's a terrifying thought, but also an exhilarating one. And for the first time in a long time, I'm ready to take that leap of faith.
***
As the day of my discharge approaches, I find myself growing restless, eager to leave the confines of the hospital room. Mark senses my impatience and gently squeezes my hand. “Just a little longer, Quinn.”
I nod, knowing he's right, but the need for normalcy, for a sense of control, itches beneath my skin.
As I watch Mark carefully pack my belongings, double-checking with the nurses to ensure we have all the necessary prescriptions and instructions, I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. He's been my rock through all of this.
When the final paperwork is signed and I'm officially discharged, Mark insists on pushing me out of the hospital, despite my protests that I'm perfectly capable of walking. “Humor me,” he says with a wink, and I can't help but roll my eyes, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.
As we exit the hospital doors, the sunlight warming my face, I take a deep breath, savoring the taste of freedom. Mark's hand finds the small of my back, a reassuring presence as he guides me towards the waiting car.
“Ready to go home?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
Home. I look at Mark, the man who has proven time and again that he's willing to fight for me, for us, I realize that home isn't a place but a feeling.
“Ready,” I say, my voice steady and sure.
Chapter 26 - Mark
I stand across from Maksim Letvin, my arms crossed and jaw clenched.
“So, Charlie's out then?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Maksim nods curtly. “He overstepped. Thought he could run things his way, but our family decided otherwise.”
Relief washes over me, but I maintain my stoic expression. “And you're in charge now?”
“That's what the family chose,” Maksim confirms, a hint of pride in his gruff voice. “Things will be different. No more sneaking around, no more underhanded deals.”