Page 250 of Mile High Ruin

“The baby.”

“They’ve got it together, don’t worry,” he says.

“Don’t let them⁠—”

“I won’t.”

I want to tell him not to let them take our baby away from me, but I can’t finish the sentence before the room blurs.

When I wake, I know I’m not in the same room. My whole body feels heavy and sore, my mouth is dry, and there’s an IV in my arm. For a few seconds, I stare at the ceiling without understanding why my chest feels so hollow.

Then I remember.

“The baby.”

The words barely come out.

Vadim is there. He’s sitting beside my bed, one hand already closing around mine before I manage to turn my head fully. His shirt is different, his hair damp like he washed quickly and came straight back, and the bruise on his cheek looks worse under the hospital lights.

“The baby is alive,” he tells me before the panic can set in.

I close my eyes. The relief hurts. “Is she okay?”

“The baby is in the neonatal unit, in great hands. You have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he tells me.

I start crying before he finishes.

Vadim shifts from the chair to the edge of the bed, careful of the IV and the blanket and whatever damage my body is still recovering from. “You were right this one time,” he says.

I blink at him through the tears. “What?”

His mouth softens a little. “It’s a boy.”

For a second, I only stare at him. Then I cry harder. “A boy?”

“Yes.”

“Our son?”

His face changes when I say it that way.

“Yes,” he says freezing slightly. “Our son.”

I narrow my eyes at the reaction. “What did you think?”

“It doesn’t matter what I thought initially,” he says. “I’m an idiot anyway. And it doesn’t matter who the father is when you’re the mother. That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

“Well you’re an idiot,” I say, punching him slightly. “For knocking me up.”

This time he smiles a little.

I reach for him, and he leans down without making me ask twice. His arms come around me carefully, but I still hold on to him as tightly as I can, pressing my face against his shoulder while everything inside me shakes with relief.

“I thought I lost him,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“I thought I lost both of you.”