She wheeled him out into the VIP corridor, the wheels whispering over the plush carpet. Jas trailed discreetly behind, his face beaming like a proud parent watching a reconciliation. The hallway opened to a private garden terrace, where potted ferns swayed in the breeze, and the distant hum of London traffic provided a soothing backdrop. Eliana pushed the chair slowly, her hands firm on the handles.
"Tell about the baby," Rafael said softly, his voice trembling with a kind of wonder he couldn’t quite disguise. His hand moved to her belly again, the warmth of his palm pressing gently through the thin fabric of her dress. He rubbed slow circles there, hesitant but tender. "How have you been feeling? Any kicks yet? Cravings?"
Eliana let out a small, musical laugh that seed to lt the heavy quiet of the room. The sound felt like sunlight slipping through rainclouds. "Oh, the cravings are ridiculous," she said, shaking her head. "Pickles and ice cream at midnight. I know, cliché, but I can’t help it. And the kicks?" Her lips curved into a smile that reached her eyes for the first ti in hours. "Like a tiny soccer player in there. Here—feel this."
She guided his hand lower, pressing his palm against the spot where a faint flutter stirred beneath her skin. The baby kicked again, a small but powerful reminder of the life they had created.
Rafael froze, then his whole face softened. The guarded lines around his mouth eased, and for a fleeting mont, he wasn’t the man burdened with guilt and sches. He was just... a father. His thumb moved in a slow circle as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Hey there, little one," he murmured, his tone reverent. "It’s your daddy. I can’t wait to et you. We’re going to have adventures, you and . Parks, bedti stories, everything I never got to have."
Eliana watched him in silence, her heart twisting painfully. For an instant, the sincerity in his voice made her forget the hurt, the betrayals, the sleepless nights. He looked so genuine, so achingly human in that mont that she felt the walls she’d built tremble.
"You’re good at this," she said softly, her words slipping out before she could stop them. "Talking to them like that."
He looked up at her then, eyes glistening faintly. "Maybe it’s because they’re the best part of ," he said, half-smiling.
The room felt smaller sohow—warr, filled with sothing fragile and beautiful that neither dared to na. Eliana exhaled slowly and gestured toward the balcony, where soft sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains. Together, they moved to the small bench near the window. She sank onto the seat, while Rafael, "still too weak to stand long," rolled his chair beside her. The afternoon glow wrapped around them, golden and forgiving.
"We’ve been thinking about baby nas," she said after a mont, her tone gentle, uncertain. "Henry helped brainstorm a few."
At the ntion of Henry, Rafael’s smile faltered just a little, but he masked it quickly, schooling his face into calm interest.
"Oh?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light. "What nas?"
"For a boy..." She smiled wistfully, gazing out at the horizon where the sun dipped low. "Maybe Alexander. Strong, regal—like a king." She paused, then continued more softly, "And for a girl, Sophia. It ans wisdom. I want her to be wise... and beautiful, inside and out."
Rafael’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of emotion betraying his calm veneer. Henry — the na alone was enough to sour the air. Henry, the quiet constant in her life now, always conveniently there to fill the space Rafael had once occupied. But he caught himself before the bitterness could surface and forced an easy, practiced smile.
"Alexander’s not bad," he said smoothly, his voice low, deliberate. "But I’ve always liked Gabriel for a boy — strength of God. It fits, don’t you think?" His gaze subtly drifted to her belly, then back to her face, softer now. "And for a girl, Isabella — devoted, elegant." His lips curved faintly. "Like her mother."
Eliana’s brows lifted slightly, a ghost of a smile forming. "Gabriel," she repeated thoughtfully, rolling the na on her tongue. "I like that. And Isabella..." she trailed off, eyes distant for a mont before she nodded. "They’re both beautiful. We’ll see what the little one looks like."
Across the room, Jas leaned casually against the wall, watching the scene unfold with quiet satisfaction. He let out a low chuckle under his breath. For a mont, the hospital lounge didn’t feel sterile or cold. It felt alive — almost like a ho. And he couldn’t help but feel proud; it was as if he’d witnessed the beginnings of a miracle that had taken months to orchestrate.
As the hours slipped by and the sun sank behind the London skyline, the golden light faded into twilight. Eliana glanced down at her wristwatch, the spell between them quietly breaking. "I should go," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Papa’s appointnt should be over by now — we ca together."
Rafael nodded slowly, hiding the reluctance tightening his chest. "Of course," he said softly. "Thank you, Eliana. This... this ans everything."
She smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will," he promised.
Eliana helped him back to his room and into the bed, adjusting the blanket over his lap, her movents gentle, automatic — an echo of care that once ca so naturally. When she finally straightened, their gazes t—his eyes looked truly blinded— but sothing unspoken passed between them — a fragile, trembling thread of what used to be love, what might still be sothing. Then she turned away.
The door clicked softly behind her, sealing the quiet once more.
For a long mont, Rafael sat still, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a broad, triumphant smile — the kind that didn’t belong to a patient recovering from illness, but to a man reclaiming control.
He reached up and ripped off the fake monitors, their rhythmic beeps dying one by one. The wires fell away, and he stood — tall, strong, a far cry from the frail image he’d so carefully maintained.
"Jas," he called, his tone shifting from tender to commanding, the mask slipping entirely. "No matter what it takes, I have to make her mine again." His eyes glead with quiet conviction. "She’s going to slip back — I can feel it."
Jas pushed away from the wall, an approving grin spreading across his face. "The plan’s working, sir. Slowly but surely."
Rafael exhaled, glancing toward the window where the city lights shimred like distant promises. "Good," he murmured, almost to himself. "This ti, I won’t lose her."
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