It's not fair. I carried him for thirty-three weeks. Went through hell, and now I can't even hold him.
But he's alive.
We're both alive.
That's what matters.
I try my best to focus on that instead of the ache in my arms.
"What happened?" I ask, still watching Angelo breathe. "During the surgery?"
"Placental abruption." Adrian's voice is clinical. Controlled. This is hard for him. I can tell. "The doctors think it happened during the explosion at the mansion. The fall. The trauma. It ruptured fully when you went into labor." He pauses, taking a deep breath. I know him well enough to sense the shakiness in it. "You were bleeding internally. If we'd gotten there even ten minutes later?—"
He doesn't finish the sentence.
Doesn't need to. I remember the pain. The blood. It’s a memory that will never leave me.
"But you didn't," I say softly. "You found me. You saved us."
"Barely." His hand finds mine. "I've never been that scared in my life."
I look at him. Really look at him.
He's changed clothes. Clean shirt. No blood. But there are shadows under his eyes. Tension in his jaw. His hand is bandaged.
"What happened to your hand?"
"I punched a wall. While you were in surgery."
"Adrian—"
"I couldn't do anything else." His voice is rough. "I couldn't control it. Couldn't fix it. Couldn't help you. So, I punched a wall."
I squeeze his hand. "I'm okay. We're okay."
"I know." But I can hear the strain in his voice. The barely controlled emotion. "You scared the hell out of me, Seraphina."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." He stands, kissing my forehead. "Just don't do it again."
"I'll try."
We sit there in silence for a moment. Watching our son. Our miracle. I smile as I take in his little tuft of dark hair. “He’s going to look like you,” I say.
Adrian snorts. “Right now, he looks like a potato.”
His words make me laugh, but then, pain spikes through my stomach and reality creeps back in.”
"Gabe," I say quietly. "What happened to him?"
Adrian's expression hardens. "He's alive."
I can’t help it—I’m surprised. I assumed my brother would be dead the moment Adrian caught sight of him.
"Did he escape again?” I feel weary just asking the question. Gabe is like a cat. Apparently, he has nine lives.
But Adrian shakes his head.
