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alex

I think I was hallucinating because there was no way in hell anyone was calling me at two in the morning. We had a game tonight, and I had fallen asleep, so I must be fucking dreaming.

“No,” I groaned.

The ringing didn’t stop.

I glanced at the phone sitting on the wooden table beside me. We lost tonight because, for some reason, the owners decided to give our coach another year. Yet, the same issues persisted, and I was exhausted by it.

Why wouldn’t the phone shut up? I rolled over and noticed Coach was the one who was calling. Shit. At two a.m.?

I grabbed it. “What’s up, Coach?”

“You live with Sokolov?”

“Uh . . . no?”

Coach sounded frantic. “You live in the same building, don’t you?”

I sat up straighter. It was only October.

The season had started. Although I hadn’t seen much of Anastasia these days.

I went back to my old ways and preferred to get fucked up, which seemed to numb a lot of my pain.

But once a month, she’d come by and bring a treat for me to try.

I knew she wasn’t due for a couple more months, so it couldn’t be about her.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I do.”

“Where the fuck is he?” Coach barked.

He was out. He was always out. I had to start driving to another town because of how often I had to watch that piece of shit out at bars.

“No idea.”

“His wife called me frantically. She’s at the hospital and can’t get ahold of?—”

“Anastasia is at the hospital?” I shouted.

Throwing the covers off, I bolted out of bed and grabbed the closest pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt. I didn’t even let Coach tell me more before I grabbed my keys from the living room.

“Yes. She’s in labor early, and they tried to stop it, but the baby is coming, and I can’t get ahold of him.”

“Is anyone with her?” I asked hurriedly, knowing full well he isolated her.

She had no one except her mother, who was supposed to fly into town. Fuck. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, so I didn’t remember when she was coming to town.

“No. Her mom will be here in a few days.”

“I’ll be there. Tell her. I’ll be there. Where is she?” My voice shook with urgency.

I wished I’d given her my number so she wouldn’t have had to call Coach. The thought of her needing me and not being able to reach me tore at my heart.

Fuck. I should’ve kept the door open for her, but I was too weak to hold my boundaries.

Instead, I shut her out. I stopped staying home, hooking up with random girls to distract myself from the reality that she was carrying his child.

The thought of her with him was unbearable, so I numbed myself to avoid facing it.

Meanwhile, Dimitri paraded around the locker room, acting like he was father of the year, and it enraged me.

His charade made me sick, knowing how he truly treated her.

“I need her number,” I said to Coach as I threw on my gym shoes by the door and locked the door behind me, running toward the elevator bank.

“She’s at St. Michael’s Hospital, and I’ll text you her information.”

“Thank you.” I breathed out a small sigh of relief knowing I was going to be there soon. “Call Dirks. He might know where Dimitri is.”

I wanted to throw up. How could he be so fucking selfish to be out and not have his phone on him when his wife was severely pregnant? Anything could’ve happened at any point.

“I will. Thank you, Popov.”

“No problem,” I said as the elevator doors finally opened.

I frantically pressed the button for the basement, my heart racing.

I was going to be there for her. Despite the mess I had made of the past few months, trying to put space between us, I was going to be there for her now.

She deserved someone who truly cared, someone who would stand by her side, and I was determined to be that person.

My mind was a whirlwind of regret. As the elevator descended, I swore I wouldn’t let her down again.

I reached the hospital within twenty minutes. After demanding security tell me where she was, I raced up to her room.

It was sterile and stark, the cold fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the white walls and linoleum floor.

It smelled faintly of antiseptic. The room was dominated by intimidating machines that beeped and hummed, their displays flickering with vital signs.

It was a sad and scary place, devoid of any warmth or comfort.

“Anastasia?” I called.

She was lying in the hospital bed, looking frail and vulnerable in a thin pale-blue gown that hung loosely around her small frame.

Her cheeks were hollow, and her hair was splayed out beneath her on the pillow.

The gown did little to conceal her slightly rounded belly, a small but poignant reminder of the life growing inside her and the reason I was here.

“Alex?” she responded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She looked so alone, surrounded by the impersonal machinery and the sterile environment.

A deep, relentless ache settled in my chest, as if my heart was caught in a vise, tightening with every breath.

It felt like a thousand tiny cracks spreading through my ribs, each one pulsing in time with my racing heartbeat.

This ache was a heavy, hollow pain that echoed through me.

Every glance at her fragile form made it worse, a mix of protection and worry that I couldn’t shake.

“I’m here.” I ran over toward her and grabbed her hand, littered with hospital bracelets.

“Dimitri?” she asked.

“Coach is working on trying to find him. Tell me what happened.”

Her blue eyes, usually bright and radiant, were dull and lifeless. Her eyes rimmed red. “I was at the game earlier and wasn’t feeling great, so I left early. He came home and...”

If my heart could have sunk lower, it did. I was choking on my own lack of oxygen. “He did this to you?”

She shook her head. “He was upset that I left. It was my fault. The stress.”

If he walked in here, I was going to fucking murder him. I tried so desperately to stay in my own lane. I had failed to keep her safe.

“It’s fine,” she quickly said. “It’s my fault.”

I squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault.”

She looked at me. “My water broke, and he’s so early. I’m so scared,” she whispered.

“He’ll be safe. You’re here, and the doctors look like they’re taking good care of you.” I looked over to the machines and made a mental note to ask the nurse how she was. “I’m sorry.” I was trying to keep my voice from shaking. I coughed a few times.

“Why?” she asked, her lips chapped. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I haven’t been there. I’ve been a shitty friend?—”

She held up her hand to stop me. “You’ve been busy lately. I get it. I’ve still seen you, and when I do, it feels like no different.”

I swallowed. “I’m going to be a better friend to you. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but myself, and that’s not what friends do.”

She shook her head, giving me a soft smile and a tight squeeze. “He’s thinking of himself.”

That I’d agree with. Just as I was going to try and convince her to run away, a nurse came in.

“Oh good, Mr. Sokolov, you could make it,” the nurse said as she adjusted her glove and walked over to a few machines to check the papers coming out of them.

I looked down at our hands, our fingers curled around each other.

“No. This is my?—”

“Brother.” I finished for her.

A tiny smile crept on her face. “Brother,” she repeated.

It was going to be difficult to explain somehow that I’m her friend without getting a hundred different looks, so I figured it was easier this way.

“Are you ready to have a baby, Anastasia?” the nurse asked. “We need to get you in for your C-section, and the doctor is ready. Will your brother be coming with us?”

She nodded and looked at me, eyes searching. “He’s not coming,” she whispered.

No. He wasn’t. Without a second thought, I looked back at the nurse. “Tell me what I need to do.”

An hour later, we found ourselves in an even more sterile operating room. A sheet covered the lower half of her body.

“I’m so scared,” she whimpered.

I leaned down so only she could hear me. “You’re doing so well, Anastasia.” I reassured her, my voice steady.

I never imagined myself in this position, but I also couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Anastasia was one of the strongest people I’d ever met.

“We’re going to perform a standard C-section,” the doctor instructed while a few nurses moved around us, preparing for the procedure.

“Dad, go ahead and hold onto mom’s hand,” one of the nurses said, putting up a sheet so we couldn’t see what they were doing.

I grabbed Anastasia’s hand, not bothering to correct them.

“Can I get a washcloth?” I asked a nurse nearby.

She quickly brought a warm washcloth, and I gently placed it on Anastasia’s forehead.

“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow.”

I had no idea what I was saying, but I had seen a few episodes of General Hospital and House so hopefully I could fill in the gaps of what I was supposed to do.

Her grip on my hand tightened as she trembled. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You can, and you will,” I said firmly. “You’re the strongest person I know. Keep breathing, in and out.”

The room buzzed with activity, the medical team working with calm precision. Beeping monitors filled the air, adding to the tension.

“Almost there,” the doctor announced. “A few more moments.”

Anastasia’s eyes locked onto mine, searching for reassurance. “Stay with me,” she pleaded.

“I’m right here, not going anywhere,” I promised, squeezing her hand.

“Here we go,” the doctor said. “Dad, you might want to look away if you’re squeamish.”

I held Anastasia’s gaze, offering silent support as the minutes stretched on.

Before long, the doctor announced that the baby was born.

I looked up, desperately hoping to hear a baby cry.

That’s what happens when they’re born, right?

Seconds later, the loudest little shrill filled the room, and Anastasia started crying.

I teared up. “You did it,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.

“We did it.”

“He looks good, Mom,” the doctor said from where she stood. “What’s his name?”

“Damien,” she whispered, her eyes bright and excited.

“I like that. Welcome to the world, Damien Sokolov. We’re taking him to the NICU for precautions,” the doctor added.

She looked at me, her grip on my arm tightening. “Can you go with him? Please?”

I nodded.

“What does he look like?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Can she see the baby before you take him?” I asked the doctor.

They brought the baby around, and he was tiny, no bigger than a foot long and five pounds.

“He has my nose,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“You did so well,” I told her, my voice catching in my throat. I was so proud of her and this little guy.

My world felt suddenly complete, watching my only friend give birth and show such incredible strength through everything she endured.

“Please go with him,” she asked again, her eyes pleading.

There was nowhere else I’d rather be.