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“How do you feel about where you are now in your relationship?” Dr. Goode asks.
Aria chuckles softly, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest. “Stronger than ever. We’ve been communicating better, really listening to each other.”
I nod in agreement.
Adjusting to a new normal has been a challenge, but it’s one I’m committed to facing head-on. Aria, understandably, was shaken up for weeks—she still is. Her father’s sudden death and her brother Dimitri stepping up as the new head were monumental shifts for her. Add to that the discovery of having a half-brother and the lingering trauma from nearly two years of Andrew’s abuse, and it’s no wonder she’s struggling to find her footing.
In the beginning, we had to take things slow. I remember the first few weeks when Aria would wake up from nightmares, drenched in sweat, her body trembling. I would hold her, whispering reassuring words, hoping to provide some comfort. It was a delicate balance between giving her the space she needed and being there for her to lean on.
“We’ve come a long way,” I say, feeling a swell of pride.
Dr. Goode leans forward, her expression warm. “I’m proud of both of you. You’ve done the hard work, and it’s paying off. Keep supporting each other, keep communicating, and you’ll continue to grow stronger.”
“Thank you, Dr. Goode. For everything.”
“Yes, thank you. We couldn’t have done it without you,” Aria adds, her grin radiant.
“Push!” the nurse says from the other side of the hospital room. She’s shouting encouragement, urging Angelica to keep going.
Evander hovers nervously by her side, his eyes never leaving his wife.
Angelica’s screams become louder, and I feel myself pale. Oh, my fucking God. What am I doing here?
Aria is next to her best friend, holding her hand and passing a damp towel on her head. “You can do this, Giegie! Make your vagina your little bitch and push that baby out!”
I need to fucking leave. I bend down next to her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Aria shoots me a stern look, her tone not concealing her annoyance. “Seriously, Dion? Don’t be rude.”
“Why the fuck am I even here in the first place, Aria?” I hiss.
“To support your brother, vlakas,” she retorts, smacking the side of my head with her free hand. “Now, shoo. You’re disturbing us.” Fuck yes.
I don’t hesitate to leave the room, making sure to shut my eyes as I pass Angie’s legs. I’m not planning on getting my eyes gouged out by Evan for accidentally seeing his wife naked.
Evander, lost in admiration while watching Angelica, barely registers my discomfort or my exit as he whispers words of encouragement, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on her.
“You’re doing amazing, angeloúdi mou. Just a little more.”
Once in the hallway, I relax on one of the chairs and wait.
A while later, Aria emerges from the delivery room. “The coast is clear. You can come back in now.” She rolls her eyes when she sees the relief flooding my face.
When I step back into the room, there, in Angelica’s arms, lies their newborn baby, tiny and perfect.
Angelica looks exhausted but radiant, a smile spreading across her face as she meets my gaze.
“Hey, Uncle Dion.”
My heart swells.
Evander’s eyes are on the tiny bundle cradled in his wife’s arms. There’s a softness in his expression I haven’t seen in years, maybe ever. He looks up, his face breaking into a tired but genuine grin. “Come meet my new baby girl.”
I approach the bed. The baby is so small, so fragile, with a mop of dark hair and the beginnings of Angie’s soft features. Her tiny fingers curl and uncurl, and I feel a lump rise in my throat.
“Thea Vasilakis,” Evan says, his voice thick with emotion. “After my sister.”
I nod, swallowing hard. The memory of Evander’s late sister is a tender spot for both of us. Naming his daughter after her is a tribute that strikes deep. I reach out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching Thea’s tiny hand. Her skin is impossibly soft, and when her fingers wrap around mine, something inside me shifts.
