Page 77 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of machines. "This is all my fault."

A soft groan escapes Zara's lips, and my eyes snap to her face. Her lashes flutter, and slowly, those beautiful brown eyes I love so much open, confusion clouding them.

"Abram?" she murmurs, her voice hoarse.

I lean in, guilt and remorse overwhelming me. "I'm here, Zara. I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to see that side of me, to put you through this."

Her brow furrows. "What happened? Where are we?"

I swallow hard, the memory of my violence flashing before my eyes. "There was… a fight. We came to get you when I realized you were missing, but it started a war. We had to… take care of it."

Zara's eyes widen, realization dawning. "The gunshots. I remember now."

"I'm sorry," I repeat, unable to meet her gaze. "I should have protected you better. I should have kept you away from all this. I can’t imagine what you must have witnessed. Seeing me kill all those peo—

Zara's hand trembles as it reaches for mine, her fingers intertwining with my own. Her voice is barely above a whisper, laced with concern as she cuts me off. "The baby… Abram, is our baby okay?"

My heart constricts at the fear in her eyes, those depths searching my face for any sign of reassurance. I take a deep breath and give her a smile.

"The baby is alright, my love," I say softly, my voice filled with tenderness. I gently place my hand on her stomach, feeling a surge of love and protectiveness wash over me. "But you gave us quite a scare. The doctor says you need to be on bed rest for the next three months."

Zara's eyes widen. "Three months? But—”

"Shh," I soothe, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "It's necessary to keep both you and our little onesafe. There was… a complication. A placental abruption from the trauma."

I can see the worry etched across her delicate features, and I hate myself for putting her through this. My thumb traces small circles on her belly, a silent promise to our unborn child.

"I'll take care of everything, Zara," I murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her temple. "You and our baby are my priority now. Nothing else matters."

“Thank you,” she murmurs, taking my hand in her own and pressing it against her cheek.

I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. She’s so innocent, and I’ve tainted her. What I've put her through crashes down on me, not allowing me respite. "Zara, I…" I repeat, my voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. For showing you that side of me, for putting you through this unnecessary stress."

My hands tremble slightly against her cheek, unable to bear the guilt of it all.

The dim light of the room casts shadows across Zara's face, but her eyes… God, her eyes are like beacons cutting through the darkness. They lock onto mine, unwavering, filled with an intensity that takes my breath away.

"Abram," she says, her voice soft but steady. "My stress wasn't because of this violent side of you that you’re so convinced to hold responsible."

I furrow my brow, confusion washing over me. "What do you mean?"

Zara's grip on my hand tightens. "I was terrified…for you.I thought I might lose you. That's what scared me more than anything. To imagine raising our baby withoutyou, to imagine a future without you… I just couldn’t. It’s incomprehensible."

Her words hit me like a physical blow, leaving me stunned. The depth of her love, her understanding… it's more than I deserve. "Zara, I—”

"I know who you are, Abram," she interrupts, her gaze never wavering. "All of you. And I'm still here."

I clutch Zara’s hand tighter, kissing her arm up and down. The tension in my muscles begins to dissipate as I breathe in her familiar scent. My fingers thread through her silky hair as I sit by her side, holding her hand, feeling the steady rhythm of her pulse against my finger.

"You're incredible, you know that?" I murmur against her temple, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Zara tilts her head to look up at me. Her eyes, those mesmerizing pools of warmth, search my face. "You don't have to deserve me, Abram. Love isn't about deserving. It's about accepting."

Her words wash over me, soothing the jagged edges of my soul. I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. "I accept every part of you, Zara. The good, the bad, everything in between. Though you are nothing but good.”

She reaches up, her delicate fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "And I accept you, Abram. All of you. The darkness, the light, the violence, the tenderness. It's all part of who you are, and I love you. Unconditionally."

I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of her words, of her love. "We're in this together, aren't we?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

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