Page 73 of Rose

One Week Later

Knocks hit the door just before it creaked open. Ahzii, curled on the hospital couch, sat up as Sarai stepped in with a bag of food swinging from her hands.

“I come with food, because I know your ass hasn’t ate,” Sarai said, her voice light but her eyes heavy.

Ahzii let out a small chuckle, but she knew Sarai wasn’t lying. It had been a week since everything happened, and she hadn’t left the hospital once. Savior still hadn’t woken up, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave his side.

His parents had come earlier, sat with him, and forced her to go get rest, but she never moved farther than the hallway.

Every day, the family rotated in and out—bringing food, telling stories, cracking jokes that barely touched the tension in the air, praying like his life depended on each word.

A’Mazi kept the dogs safe at home, Sincere helping him out.

And while everyone else returned to business, and normal responsibilities, Ahzii’s world had shrunk to this single room and the man lying in that bed.

Bianca stopped by daily with fresh clothes and toiletries for her, insisting she go home and get real rest. But everyone knew the truth. They’d have to wheel her out in her own hospital bed before she willingly left this room.

“I can’t eat until he wakes up,” Ahzii whispered.

Sarai leaned down, kissed her brother’s forehead, then slid beside Ahzii on the couch. “You have to eat something, Zii. If my brother wakes up and finds out you’ve been starving yourself and his baby, he’ll kill us for letting it happen.”

Ahzii chuckled again, but it broke halfway through. She wiped away the tear that slipped.

Yup. She was pregnant.

A few days after killing Lazarus, she’d been throwing up nonstop.

Body aches. Fevers. She told herself it was the weight of taking her first life, the sickness of what she’d done.

But Sarai and Kyre had forced a doctor to check her over.

The test came back clear as day. She was carrying Savior’s child.

She hadn’t done an ultrasound. Not yet. She wanted to experience that moment with him. But knowing she was pregnant only deepened the pit in her chest. She couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. She was already praying for God to spare Savior’s life, now she was begging not to lose another baby too.

Being pregnant again dragged her straight back to Willow. Back to the loss that had gutted her. She’d fallen in love with the wrong man, and it had cost her the chance to be a mother. What if this happened again? What if losing Savior ripped her apart so badly her body gave up this baby too?

And if he didn’t make it, she’d be alone. Raising their child without him. Living in a world without him .

The thoughts came like waves, crashing hard and fast, until all she could do was cry. Pray. Wait. And stare at the stillness of the man who held her whole future in his chest.

Sarai saw the tears sliding down before Ahzii could wipe them away. She moved without hesitation, wrapping her arms around her.

“He has to wake up,” Ahzii cried into her chest, her voice breaking.

“He will, Zii. Savior’s strong… he’s just being stubborn right now,” Sarai said, rubbing her back in slow circles. “Stubborn ass.”

Ahzii gave a small, shaky chuckle. Sarai had always been able to slip humor into the cracks of her pain, make her laugh when she thought she’d forgotten how.

When they pulled apart, Sarai brushed her thumb over Ahzii’s damp cheek.

“I’m scared,” Ahzii admitted, her voice trembling. “Savior’s still out… and I’m pregnant. I keep thinking about my daughter. There’s a baby growing inside me, but the one I was supposed to have didn’t make it. What if history repeats itself? Or worse… what if I lose both Savior and this baby?”

Her words began to tumble out faster, panic swelling, but Sarai cut in before she could spiral further.

“Zii, none of that is going to happen. I know it’s terrifying right now, but history won’t repeat itself. Savior is going to wake his big-headed ass up, and you’re going to push his big-headed ass son out in nine months.”

Ahzii shook her head, a laugh slipping out through the tears.

Sarai’s voice softened, her words taking root. “Willow’s looking down, proud of the woman you are today. She knows you would have been an incredible mother, and you will be one now. That’s why she gave you a second chance through this baby.”

Ahzii nodded, trying to hold on to her words like a lifeline.

“Now eat,” Sarai ordered, sliding the bag toward her, “before I stuff it down your throat myself.”

Ahzii cracked a smile, opening the container. “How do you even know it’s a boy? This baby ain’t formed one finger yet. They don’t even have a head.”

“I’m hoping for a girl, but I won’t be surprised if it’s a boy. Women are rare in my family. My dad always told me I was the golden child because I was a girl. I’m literally the only girl in my family besides Olivia. and she’s not even blood. All my cousins are boys.”

Ahzii’s eyes widened. “Damn… seriously?”

Sarai nodded, grabbing a piece of bacon off her plate. “Yeah. That’s how I got the name Gold.”

“That makes sense,” Ahzii said, piecing it together. “I always wondered where it came from. Thought it was just because of your restaurant.”

“Nope. So that little bean cooking in there? Nine times out of ten, a boy.”

Ahzii shook her head, laughing.

Sarai glanced at her watch. “I have to get back to the restaurant, but Kyre and Maz said they’re coming on their lunch break. Aunt Marley, Ms. Bianca, and my mom will be here tonight.”

Selene had been coming every day. Watching Savior fight to hold on had shifted something in her.

Life was too short to keep pride as armor, and she’d apologized to Ahzii for everything she’d said and done.

They were working toward something like a relationship.

Ahzii still wouldn’t trust her as far as she could throw her, but it was a start.

Sarai leaned down, hugging her again before pressing a kiss to Savior’s forehead. “Wake up, ugly-ass nigga. You’ve got a family to take care of.”

Ahzii laughed through her tears. “You’re right, but lay off my baby daddy.”

Sarai grinned. “I love you, Ahzii.”

“I love you too, Gold.”

“Now eat!” she demanded, heading for the door.

Ahzii was still smiling as it closed behind her.

Even though she needed to eat, the food sat untouched, her body moved on its own, straight to Savior’s bedside.

“Hey, baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked over him. His chest rose and fell, steady but silent, the machines humming like a cruel lullaby. She tried to hold back the tears, but one slipped free.

“I know you’re resting… but I need you. We need you.”

Her fingers curled around his, guiding his hand to rest against her stomach where their baby now grew. She held it there, eyes falling shut.

“Dear Lord,” she began, her voice barely above a breath. “I come to you humbly… asking you to bring Savior back to me. I love him. You know I do. And although our story didn’t begin perfectly, please don’t let it end like this.”

Her tears fell faster, soaking his skin.

“I finally rose from the ashes… and it was because of him. The man who saved me in ways I could never save myself. God, he is my savior. Please… give him another chance to be loved as a son, a man, and—”

Her voice broke. She took a shaky breath.

“A father. Please… I can’t do this without him. In your name, Amen.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hiss of oxygen. Then—warmth. Movement. A twitch beneath her palm, his fingers flexing… then brushing softly against her stomach.

Her eyes flew open.

Savior was looking at her. Awake. Tears streaked his face.

“Savior!” The word tore from her chest, loud and shaking. “You’re awake!”

She laughed and cried all at once, gripping his hand like she’d never let go. “Oh my God… nurse! Nurse! He’s awake!” she shouted into the hallway, her joy spilling into every word, every tear, every heartbeat.

The doctor burst in with two nurses at his heels, his eyes widening at the sight of Savior blinking up at them.

“He’s awake—okay, let’s move,” he ordered.

The nurses moved fast, their hands steady as they carefully unstrapped the breathing tube.

“You’re going to feel some pressure, Mr. Carter,” the doctor said evenly, guiding the tube out.

Savior grimaced, a muffled sound in his throat, but didn’t fight it. The moment it was gone, he coughed hard, the sound ragged and raw. His throat felt like it had been scraped with glass .

Ahzii stood there, tears streaming down her face, but for the first time in a week, they weren’t from fear. They were relief.

“He’s stable,” the doctor said, glancing at her with a professional but softened tone. “This is a great sign. The next forty-eight hours are critical. We’ll keep him on oxygen support and monitor for infection due to his wounds, organ stress, or any signs of trauma flaring up.”

Ahzii nodded, her hand still anchored to his, her gaze locked on him like she couldn’t believe he was real.

“He may be disoriented, sluggish, maybe even agitated,” the doctor went on. “Keep the room calm. Speak gently. Report any changes—confusion, trouble breathing, fever spikes. His body’s healing, but he’s not out of the woods yet.”

She nodded again, but her attention never left Savior’s eyes. They were glassy, wet, locked on hers in a silent conversation only they could hear.

“I… sor—” His voice cracked, broken from disuse.

“Don’t talk just yet,” the doctor interrupted gently. “Small sips of water only for now. We’ll get you started on fluids soon.”

“Thank you,” Ahzii whispered, her voice breaking as she looked down at him, brushing a tear from his cheek.

Savior looked back, weak but present. And that was enough. She didn’t need words. He woke up, and that’s all that mattered.

She tipped her head back, whispering a thank you to God under her breath.

When the doctor finished his checks, settled the oxygen mask over Savior’s face, and confirmed his vitals were holding steady, he left with the nurses, leaving them alone.

“Oh my God, baby… I thought I lost you.” The words dissolved into sobs as she gripped his hand.

Savior reached up and yanked the oxygen mask away before she could stop him, pulling her down into the bed beside him. The movement made him wince, but he didn’t care. He needed her close.

“Baby… I’m going to hurt you,” Ahzii said, trying to pull back.

His grip only tightened.

Her smile trembled as she reached for the cup of water, guiding the straw to his lips. “I know your throat’s dry, but the doctor said small sips,” she murmured.

Savior obeyed, taking slow pulls even though every cell in his body screamed for more. She pulled it back before he could drain it.

He tried to speak again, but she stopped him, leaning down and pressing her lips to his.

She kissed him like she’d been holding her breath for days. Deep, desperate, every ounce of fear, love, and relief poured into the way her mouth claimed his. When she finally pulled away, she replaced the oxygen mask over his face, her fingertips lingering against his skin.

More tears slid from Savior’s eyes, the guilt in them sharp and unhidden.

Ahzii saw it instantly.

“Baby,” she murmured, her hand resting over his, “I can tell by your eyes what you’re thinking, and it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. Olivia and Sin told me everything… and I ended that nigga myself. ”

His brows lifted at the last part, confusion breaking through his pain. It made her laugh, the sound a little shaky but real.

She told him everything. How Cain had really been Lazarus, how his twin had taken his place, the deception that almost took everything from them.

“I think I deserve to be Mrs. Carter now,” she teased, trying to soften the heaviness hanging in the air.

Savior tried to laugh but broke into a cough, the burn in his throat forcing his eyes shut.

“Sorry, baby. I forgot I can laugh you right out them drawls,” she smirked, earning a weak glare that only made her laugh harder.

Then his gaze shifted down to her small stomach. His hand moved slowly, rubbing it with a tenderness that silenced her.

“Yeah, Sav… I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant.”

The words didn’t feel as heavy this time. Saying them to him made them feel lighter.

His hand came up to her face, calloused fingers brushing her cheek in a silent confession she didn’t need to translate.

“I love you too, Savior.”

She suddenly froze. “Oh shit… I have to tell the family.” She started to get up, reaching for her phone, but his grip closed around her wrist, firm but gentle.

I just want to be with you alone right now.

He didn’t speak it, he signed it.

Her lips curved into a soft smile. She’d taken a sign language class in college with Kyre, and right now she was glad she had.

“How do you know sign language?” she asked, surprised.

His look was calm, certain. I know everything.

She laughed. “I forgot… you know everything.”

Savior had learned every language his work demanded. Sign language had just been another tool, until now, when it became a language only they shared in this quiet, fragile moment.

He pulled her into his arms carefully, and she lay against his side, mindful of his wounds.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat in her ear. The sound of his slow, deep breaths. The soothing glide of his hand over her back.

The man who had loved her. Cherished her. Saved her.

He was back.

And for the first time, she believed love was worth rising for.