Chapter fifty one

The drive to the hospital was calm, the kind of calm that comes when words are no longer enough to describe how two hearts feel. Peter’s hand rested softly on mine over the gear lever, his thumb brushing slow circles that seemed to echo the rhythm of our hearts.

The city rolled past our window—cars, people, the occasional honk—and yet, inside the car, it was like we existed in a different world.

I turned slightly, studying his face. There was something new in his expression today—more tenderness, but also something deep in his eyes, something that looked a lot like fear.

“Are you okay, Peter?” I asked quietly.

He smiled faintly but didn’t answer right away. “Yeah… I just keep thinking how much you mean to me, Kar. You and the baby. Sometimes I still can’t believe I have this.”

I felt my throat tighten. “You have it, Peter. You have us.”

He looked at me then, his gaze full of unspoken gratitude, and lifted my hand to his lips. The soft warmth of his kiss lingered even as we pulled into the hospital parking lot.

Inside, the smell of antiseptic filled the air. The nurse at the reception recognized me and smiled politely before handing me my appointment card.

“Dr. Benson will see you soon, Miss Donna,” she said.

Peter and I sat side by side in the waiting area, his hand never leaving mine. Across from us, an elderly couple sat whispering softly, and I couldn’t help thinking—that could be us someday.

When my name was finally called, Peter stood immediately, helping me up as though I were made of glass.

Inside the consultation room, Dr. Benson smiled warmly. “Good to see you again, Karen. And you must be Peter, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter answered, shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well, let’s see how our little one is doing,” the doctor said with a grin, turning on the ultrasound machine.

I lay down, my heart pounding as the gel touched my skin. Peter leaned close, watching the screen. The room went silent for a heartbeat—and then there it was, the sound that melted both our souls: the rhythmic beating of our baby’s heart.

Peter’s eyes widened. “That’s… that’s our baby?”

“Yes,” I whispered, tears spilling before I could stop them.

He brushed them away with his thumb. “Our little heartbeat.”

Dr. Benson smiled knowingly. “Everything looks great. The baby is healthy and growing well. You’re doing an excellent job, Karen.”

I smiled, my heart soaring. “Thank you, doctor.”

Peter just stood there, still staring at the screen as if afraid to blink and lose the moment. I could see the emotion in his eyes—raw, genuine, beautiful.

When the scan was over, Peter surprised me by going quiet. He held my hand all the way back to the car, but I could sense he was deep in thought.

“Peter?” I said softly once we were seated.

He exhaled and turned toward me. “Karen… I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About us, about this baby, about the future. I know we’ve only been together for a short while, but every day with you feels like I’ve been living the life I always dreamed of.”

“Peter…” I started, but he took my hand again, his eyes locked on mine.

“I don’t want to just be your boyfriend, Karen. I want to be your husband. I want to wake up every morning beside you, raise this child together, and grow old watching you smile.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Are you serious?”

He nodded slowly, his voice trembling. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

I blinked back tears, speechless. The world seemed to stop around us—the hum of cars, the distant chatter, even the soft whisper of the wind.

Then he reached into his pocket.

He didn’t kneel—not there in the car—but he held out a small velvet box, his hands shaking. Inside was a simple but elegant silver ring, the kind that said forever without needing to shout it.

“Karen Donna,” he said softly, “will you marry me?”

Tears blurred my vision. I covered my mouth, nodding before I could even speak. “Yes, Peter. A thousand times yes.”

He laughed, pulling me into his arms, and for a moment it felt like every worry I’d ever had melted away.

When we got back home later that evening, Mum was already in the living room, watching a drama series. She looked up and smiled when she saw us walk in.

“You two look like you’ve been to paradise and back,” she teased.

I laughed, sitting beside her. “Something like that.”

Peter, standing tall but a bit nervous again, cleared his throat. “Ma’am, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Mum looked at him curiously. “Of course, Peter. What’s the matter?”

He took a deep breath. “Ma’am, I came here today as your daughter’s boyfriend, but I’d like to leave as her fiancé. I asked Karen to marry me.”

For a moment, Mum didn’t say anything. Her expression softened as her gaze moved between us. Then she stood up slowly, walked over to Peter, and smiled.

“Well,” she said gently, “it’s about time someone saw what I’ve always seen in my daughter.”

Peter looked stunned. “You mean—you approve?”

She nodded, her eyes warm. “If she’s happy, then I’m happy too. Just make sure you never let that smile fade from her face.”

“I promise, ma’am,” Peter said firmly. “I’ll protect her with everything I have.”

Mum hugged me tightly, whispering, “You’ve found a good man, Karen. Don’t ever take that for granted.”

“I won’t, Mum,” I whispered back.

That night, after Peter left, I sat by my window, looking up at the stars. My heart felt full—overflowing, even. From the man who loved me with no conditions to the baby growing within me, everything suddenly felt right.

But deep down, a small voice whispered—every love story has its tests.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: whatever came our way, Peter and I would face it together.

Our love wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And that, I believed, was enough to survive anything.