Page 29 of Soaring and Steadfast

“Nope.”

“She hasn’t?” Lila’s voice came out sharp, unsteady.

Louis felt her stagger, and without thinking, he pulled her into him, wrapping an arm around her like a shield.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Memphis grinned. “It’s just gonna be a long while now. We’re gonna hang out here for a bit before heading home. The nurse just updated us, and they said Stephanie is only dilated to a five.”

That meant nothing to Louis, but it seemed to ease the tension in Lila’s shoulders. She drew in a deep breath and stepped away, but not far.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Maybe in a little bit. Is it okay if we sit down?”

“Yup.”

He could feel the others watching them, silent questions burning in their gazes.

But he didn’t care.

For now, he was where he needed to be.

Hours later, Lila rested her eyes beside him, their fingers still entwined—a lifeline neither of them dared release. The waiting room had emptied, the soft hum of fluorescent lights the only witness to their silent vigil. Most of the team had gone, but Lila had wanted to stay.

So they stayed.

It was that simple.

Louis wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or something deeper that kept him tethered to this moment, to her. But when he saw Trophy appear in the distance, everything else faded.

Trophy’s easy smile wavered, a raw, almost staggering emotion flickering across his face. He looked wrecked, like a man who had walked through fire and emerged, not unscathed, but victorious. Relief and disbelief warred in his eyes, and Louis felt his own throat tighten in response.

He turned to Lila, his voice low, rougher than he intended.

“Lila…?” He hesitated, wanting—aching—to touch her in some small way beyond the steady clasp of their fingers. A brush of his knuckles against her cheek. The lightest press of his lipsagainst her temple. But he swallowed the impulse. “Lila, Trophy just…”

She bolted upright, tension snapping through her frame.

“The baby?”

Louis barely had time to register the way her voice cracked before Trophy sank onto the chair beside her. And then, like a dam breaking, the weight of this moment crashed down on all of them.

“Stephanie’s fine—and so is our daughter,” Trophy said, his voice thick with restrained emotion. His jaw tightened, his composure slipping as he tried to hold back tears. “She’s a little angel… and so beautiful.”

He paused, and then—against all odds—he laughed.

“Angry…” He shook his head in disbelief. “She was pissed off at being born and can shatter glass with those lungs.”

Louis let out a quiet chuckle, but his focus never left Lila. She was trembling. Silent. The way someone is when standing on the edge of a breaking point, barely breathing, barely holding on.

Trophy exhaled, glancing between them as if sensing the storm just beneath the surface. “I’m gonna go check on Stephanie, but I wanted to let whoever was still here waiting know what was going on. The baby’s in the nursery, and if you see a cherub with an attitude—that’s my girl.” He sniffed, dragging a hand over his face before casting Louis a pointed look. “Pasteur, nobody gets to know how close I am to bawling, dude.”

Louis forced a smirk, bumping knuckles with him in a gesture that felt both lighthearted and unbearably heavy. “Your secret is safe… papa.” His voice caught on the last word.

“I’m glad you’re both here—I’ll let Stephanie know. Go take care of yourselves and get some rest. We’ll see y’all tomorrow.” Trophy nodded, clapping him on the shoulder before walking off.

The moment he was gone, Louis moved without thinking. He grabbed the box of Kleenex and shoved it onto Lila’s lap—but she didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

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