Page 25

Everything around me was a blur, from white coats, sterile lights, and the endless noise of machines beeping. The pain searing through my body was sharp, unbearable, and consuming. My body felt like it was splitting apart, and I clung to the edge of reason when the door swung open.

He strode in, my husba nd.

My heart soared, and his presence immediately grounded me, like a storm breaking to reveal the calm. His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment, the pain dulled, replaced by relief so overwhelming that tears rose to my eyes.

Some of the nurses tried to coax him to stay outside, but one hard look from him made them spring apart and give way for him to pass through.

Smiling up at him, I whispered, “You’re here.”

Marching past Doctor Maria, he didn’t say anything at first, just moved to my side. His expression was hard, but he was careful as he took my hand. His fingers were rough and calloused, but he held me tightly, his grip unyielding, like he was anchoring me to the world.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I don’t fucking know what to do. I just know I need to be by your side.”

“And I appreciate—” Another contraction hit, and I cried out, squeezing his hand so tightly that I was sure it must have hurt him. But Timur didn’t flinch. He stayed rooted there, and his jaw clenched as if he were willing himself to take on some of my pain.

“You’re strong, my little bee, my beautiful queen. You can fucking do this,” he whispered into my ear. His voice was softer now, a quiet strength beneath the words. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

I tried to follow his instructions, focusing on his face—the set of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes. For once, he was not the unyielding force I’d come to expect. There was something else there, something tender that I didn’t see often.

The nurses moved around us, giving instructions I could barely process. But Timur listened, nodding at them before turning back to me. He brushed damp strands of hair away from my face with a gentleness that made my chest ache, even through the pain.

He kissed my lips. “You’ve got this.”

Another wave crashed over me, and I screamed, gripping his hand so tightly that my nails dug into his skin. His other hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me close.

“Look at me,” he commanded in a way that cut through the haze. “You can do this. Keep going.”

Tears streaming down my face, I nodded, the pain threatening to drown me again. But he stayed there, his presence unshakable, his words steadying me like a lifeline. I clung on to every bit of him.

Minutes blurred into an eternity, each contraction worse than the last.

I felt like I was falling apart, yet he wiped my tears, murmured words of encouragement, and held my hand like it was the only thing keeping me tethered.

When the final push came, and the sound of a baby’s first cry filled the room, a sob broke free from my chest. Relief, exhaustion, and overwhelming love crashed over me all at once.

Timur’s grip on my hand tightened for a moment before he let go. His eyes were fixed on the tiny, wriggling form the nurse placed in my arms. For the first time, I saw a crack in his armor. His lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and his dark eyes softened as he looked at our child.

Our baby boy.

“You did it.”

I leaned into him, feeling exhaustion sweep in. “ We did it.”

His arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close, and for a moment, the world felt right.

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