Page 66 of Secret Baby's Second Shot

“It is,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “But you’re so brave, Ava. And Daddy and I are right here with you.”

She nodded, snuggling closer to Bunny. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

I hugged her tightly, my tears falling silently as Enzo stepped in.

“Ava,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of her bed. “It’s okay to be scared. But you’re not alone. We’re a team, remember? You, me, and Mommy. We’re going to get through this together.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

That night, after Ava fell asleep, I sat beside Enzo in the corner of the room, my head resting against his shoulder.

“She’s so lucky to have you,” I said quietly.

“She’s lucky to have us,” he replied, his arm wrapping around me.

I closed my eyes, letting his warmth and steady presence ease the ache in my chest. Together, we were stronger than I’d ever thought possible.

34

SUMMER

The soft hum of the IV pump filled the room, a constant backdrop to the slow, steady rhythm of Ava’s breathing. She was propped up in bed, Bunny nestled under one arm, her coloring book open but forgotten on her lap. She looked so small against the hospital sheets, her usual energy dulled by exhaustion.

I sat beside her, smoothing her curls as she leaned into my touch. Enzo stood near the window, his phone in hand, scrolling through some medical notes. He’d been like this for days—focused, determined, ready to take charge of whatever came next.

We both knew surgery was coming. It had been part of the plan from the start, an eventuality we’d steeled ourselves for. But hearing Dr. Taylor earlier that day—her calm but firm voice explaining that Ava’s condition had worsened faster than expected—was like having the rug pulled out from under us.

“The transfusions are helping,” Dr. Taylor had said, “but not enough. We’re going to have to move up the timeline for surgery.”

I’d nodded then, numb, but now the weight of her words pressed heavily on my chest.

“Mommy,”Ava murmured, her small voice pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I asked, leaning closer.

“Am I going to have my surgery soon?” she asked, her wide blue eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

I glanced at Enzo, who had turned to listen, his expression calm but alert. Taking a deep breath, I brushed a curl from her face. “Yes, baby. The doctors want to do it soon so you can feel better faster.”

She frowned, her little fingers tightening around Bunny. “Will it hurt?”

Enzo stepped forward, crouching beside the bed. “The doctors will make sure you don’t feel anything during the surgery,” he said gently. “And afterward, Mommy and I will be here to help you feel better.”

“Promise?” she whispered, her lip trembling.

“Promise,” we both said in unison, exchanging a glance that steadied me.

Later,after Ava had fallen asleep, Enzo and I sat on the small couch by the window. The tension in the room felt suffocating, and the silence was heavy with everything we weren’t saying.

“We knew this was coming,” I said quietly, my hands twisting in my lap.

“I know,” Enzo replied, his voice low. “But not this soon.”

I let out a shaky breath, staring at my hands. “I feel like we’re running out of time.”

He turned to me, his dark eyes filled with determination. “We’re not. The doctors are doing everything they can, and so are we.”

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