Page 82 of Deception & Desire

But I can’t ignore the way I long for him now in my most desperate moments. I can’t ignore the way I light up just at the memory of his touch. I can’t forget that despite everything, despite my isolation, despite his absence, despite my father and a war and Amos Rubio….

I’m not going to stop loving him.

“Mrs. Natali,” the doctor says gently, breaking through my thoughts. “We’re up to four centimeters now. Things are moving quite quickly, okay? So take a breath whenever you can.”

The contractions are closer together now, their intensity sharpening. I grip the edge of the bed, trying to steady my breathing, but my chest tightens with panic.

Does Leon even know?

He’s been out there, fighting a war for months, risking his life to keep me safe.

Every day I’ve been in this bunker, I’ve feared the news of his death. Some nights, I’ve woken from nightmares where his bloodied body was the last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole.

“Focus on your breathing,” the doctor says, her hands on my arm.

I nod but don’t answer. My thoughts are too loud, too chaotic.

Leon and I have been separated by more than just distance. Too much is left unspoken, too many expectations have been thrust on our shoulders. Gentle moments have been overwhelmed by our responsibilities with not enough time to nurture anything more.

But none of that matters now. I just want him back. I want to see his face, to feel his hand in mine, to know he’s alive.

A sharp pain rips through me, stealing my breath. The doctor starts giving instructions. Her tone is urgent but calm.

Leon, please. Come back to me. Don’t die out there. Come back before it’s too late.

The world is slipping away, my mind clouded with pain and exhaustion. Each contraction feels like a tidal wave dragging me under. My body is working against me, and I can barely keep up.

I squeeze my eyes shut, sweat dripping down my temples. My hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor me. Somewhere in the haze, I hear the doctor’s voice, calm and instructive, but it feels like it’s meant for someone else.

Then I hear him.

“Mia. I’m here.”

My eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, but then I see him—Leon.

His face is pale, his dark eyes filled with something I can’t quite place, but the sight of him steadies me like nothing else could. I feel the tears leaking from my eyes.

“Leon?” My voice cracks.

“I’m here. I’ve got you.” He kneels beside the bed, taking my hand in his.

His grip is firm and grounding, and his warmth cuts through the cold terror that has been gripping me for hours.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

A sob wrenches from my mouth. I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or the sheer relief of seeing him.

“You’re so strong,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’ve always been strong, Mia. Just a little more, and we’ll meet our babies. I’m so proud of you.”

His words pull me back from the edge. I focus on his voice, his presence, and somehow, it makes the impossible seembearable. I push through the pain, gripping his hand like a lifeline as the doctor urges me on.

“It’s almost time,” the doctor says.

Leon’s lips find my ear, his voice trembling but steady. “You’ve got this. One more push. I’m right here. I’m right here. You’re perfect, Mia. God, I’ve missed you so much.”

With every ounce of strength I have left, I bear down. The pressure peaks, and then, suddenly, the room fills with a new sound—a cry, piercing and raw.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor announces.

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