Mia's POVThe surgery seemed endless. Each tick of the hospital clock echoed through my bones, marking hours that felt like centuries. I'd been here since morning, pacing the sterile hallways, my prayers growing more desperate with each passing hour."Please," I whispered, my fingers wrapped tight around the small cross pendant Mom had given me years ago. "I'll do anything. Just let her live."The fluorescent lights cast everything in a harsh, unforgiving glare. Or maybe that was just my exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I'd truly slept. Not since losing the babies. Not since everything fell apart."Mrs. Branson?"The doctor's voice made my heart stop. I searched his face for any hint of hope, but his expression remained carefully neutral."How is she?" The words barely made it past my dry throat."The surgery is complete," he began, his tone measured. "We've managed to stabilize your mother's condition... temporarily."That last word hit like a physical blow."Her current
Kyle's POVI pushed Mia away, but the trembling of her body beneath my hands lingered like an accusation. The hospital room's fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her face, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes, the hollow cheeks that spoke of too many sleepless nights. The sight of her – this woman who had always faced me with quiet strength now reduced to desperate bargaining – stirred something painful in my chest.She swayed slightly as I released her, vulnerable in a way that made my throat tight. Where was the fire that usually sparked in those green eyes when she challenged me? The subtle defiance in her chin when she disagreed with my decisions? This wasn't my Mia. Not the woman who'd always greeted me with soft smiles, whose love had been a constant I'd taken for granted."What are you doing?" The words came out harsher than I intended, laced with an anger I didn't fully understand. Seeing her debase herself like this – it felt wrong. Fundamentally wrong."Isn'
**Mia's POV**Cold. So cold.The hospital doors hiss behind me. Words echo, bounce and shatter in my head.*" We can't guarantee. You should prepare yourself..."*The machines beeping. Keep beeping,No. Don't think. Just walk. One foot. Then another. The parking lot swims before my eyes, street lamps bleeding into the darkness. Like watercolors. Like the ones Mom used to paint with me, before everything.My feet carried me forward mechanically. The parking lot stretched endlessly ahead, street lamps casting pools of sickly yellow light. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my body was finally collapsing under the weight of everything I'd lost.Focus. Have to focus. But everything's spinning. Slipping. Like sand through my fingers. Like everything else.*"The experimental procedures are risky..."*My babies. My dreams. And now Mom.The concrete under my feet doesn't feel real. Nothing feels real anymore. Maybe I'm not real either. Maybe I died at the bottom of those stairs with m
**Kyle's POV**I stood outside our bedroom door, my forehead pressed against the cool wood, listening to Mia's muffled sobs. Each broken sound pierced something deep in my chest, an unfamiliar ache I couldn't name. My hand rested on the doorknob, neither turning it nor letting go.Time stretched endlessly in that dark hallway. Minutes? Hours? I couldn't tell. I only knew I couldn't leave until her crying stopped. Until I was sure she'd fallen asleep.When silence finally fell, I waited longer still. Just to be certain.The door opened soundlessly under my hand. Moonlight spilled through the windows, painting silver trails across Mia's tear-stained cheeks. She looked small in our massive bed, curled tight around herself as if trying to hold something together.Moving closer, I studied Mia's sleeping face. Even unconscious, she didn't look peaceful. Her brow was furrowed, lips trembling slightly. Dried tears glittered on her lashes.Had she always looked this fragile? This broken? How l
**Mia's POV**The first thing I noticed was the soft cotton against my cheek, still damp with tears. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, feeling the warmth of morning sunlight on my face. My body ached, heavy with exhaustion, but my mind felt strangely clear – clearer than yesterday.Mom needed me. She was fighting for her life in that hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile walls. I couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when she needed me to be strong.I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. The en-suite bathroom mirror revealed what I'd expected – pale skin, dark circles under puffy eyes, hair tangled from restless sleep. I looked like grief personified. But I couldn't be that person anymore. Not if I wanted to help Mom.The hot shower helped, washing away the salt of dried tears. I let the water pound against my shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. Each breath came a little easier than the last.A gentle knock interrupted my thou
**Mia's POV**My father hadn't changed. Not one bit.He stood in the center of what used to be our living room, every inch the successful businessman in his tailored charcoal suit. The same rigid posture, the same cold eyes, the same air of perpetual disappointment when he looked at me. Only the silver threading his temples hinted at the passage of time.The room itself had transformed completely since my childhood. Mom's beloved watercolors had been replaced by expensive abstract pieces that Taylor's mother preferred. The warm, comfortable furniture was gone, exchanged for sleek leather and chrome that matched their sophisticated tastes. Even the air felt different – no longer the subtle scent of Mom's favorite jasmine tea, but something artificial, designer, chosen to impress rather than comfort.Taylor perched on the arm of Dad's favorite leather chair, the same chair where Mom used to read me bedtime stories. Her Louboutin heels crossed elegantly at the ankle, her cream designer dr
**Mia's POV**The silence in the room shattered at Kyle's words. My father's face drained of color as he stared at Kyle's hand gripping his wrist, recognition slowly dawning in his eyes."Kyle... Kyle Branson?" Dad's voice wavered, all his previous authority crumbling. The name carried weight - everyone in the business world knew what crossing a Branson meant."Mr. Hawthorne." Kyle's voice remained perfectly controlled, but ice cold. "I suggest you lower your hand. Now."Dad jerked away as if burned, his eyes darting between Kyle and me. "What are you doing here? This is a family—""Mia is my wife."The words fell like bombs in the elegant living room. I watched the impact ripple across their faces - Dad's jaw going slack, my stepmother's perfectly arranged features freezing in shock, Taylor's eyes widening in genuine surprise for once."Wife?" Dad choked out. "That's impossible. She's been—""We've been married for three years." Kyle's tone left no room for argument. His stance was pr
**Mia's POV**The morning sun filtered through the guest room's bay windows, casting long shadows across my makeshift studio. Drawings covered every surface – elevation plans pinned to walls, material samples scattered across tables, 3D renderings glowing on multiple screens. The organized chaos felt right, felt like coming home to a part of myself I'd almost forgotten."Mrs. Branson?" Mrs. Chen's soft knock interrupted my concentration. "Your morning tea."She entered carrying a silver tray, navigating carefully around stacks of blueprints. Jasmine steam curled in the air, a small attempt at comfort in this too-quiet house."Thank you, Mrs. Chen," I murmured, not looking up from the detail I was sketching – an intricate pattern for the atrium's skylight. "You can just leave it anywhere.""Three days," she said, arranging a plate of small sandwiches beside the tea. "Three days you've barely left this room. Barely eaten.""I've eaten," I protested, but even I could hear how weak it soun
Mia's POV"One last check of the discharge papers, Mrs. Branson, and you'll be all set to go home," Dr. Matthews said, her practiced smile not quite hiding the concern in her eyes. "Remember, the twins still need frequent monitoring. The home health nurse will visit daily for the first week, then we'll reassess."I nodded, scanning the stack of papers before me—medical instructions, follow-up appointments, warning signs to watch for, emergency contacts. So many details to remember, so many things that could go wrong."Are you sure they're ready?" I asked for what must have been the fifth time that morning. Though Alexander and Ethan had made remarkable progress in the six weeks since their birth, they still seemed so small, so fragile."They've met all our criteria for discharge—consistent weight gain, stable temperature, successful feeding, no apnea episodes for over a week. They're ready, Mia. And so are you."I glanced over at my sons, nestled in their identical car seats. Alexande
Mia's POVI sat in the rocking chair, holding Alexander against my chest. He was doing remarkably well as already gaining weight and breathing with minimal assistance. His tiny fingers had wrapped around my pinky with surprising strength, and I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face."Look at you, little fighter," I whispered, gently stroking his cheek with my finger. "So strong already."Nurse Maria approached with Ethan, carefully transferring him from his isolette to my other arm. Though still smaller than his brother, Ethan had made significant progress. The doctors had reduced his ventilator settings yesterday, a positive sign his lungs were developing well."There we go," Maria said softly. "Mama's got both her boys now."It's a magical feeling. Both my sons nestled against me, their synchronized breathing creating a rhythm that seemed to match my heartbeat. Alexander squirmed slightly, his mouth making little movements that the nurses said were early attempts at suc
Mia's POVA week had passed since the twins were born, and my body was slowly healing. Today had been a good day. I'd spent the morning in the NICU with Alexander and Ethan. Both boys were showing improvement—Alexander had been taken off the ventilator yesterday, now breathing with just a little oxygen support. Ethan was still on the ventilator, but the doctors said his lungs were getting stronger every day. I'd been able to hold Alexander for the first time, his tiny body nestled against my chest during our first skin-to-skin contact. The feelings that washed over me were indescribable.Kyle's absence lingered. He hadn't called. I'd tried reaching him twice more, but each time I only got his private nurse, who assured me he was "resting" or "in physical therapy.""It's okay," I said, more to myself than to my mother. "He's recovering too."I was so lost in these thoughts that I almost didn't hear the knock at my door."Come in," I called, expecting Mom or Scarlett with the afternoon
Mia's POVI was finally strong enough to be wheeled to the NICU. The actual sight of my sons—not through a screen—overwhelmed me completely. They were impossibly small. Baby A seemed more active, his little fists waving. Baby B was quieter, more still."Can I touch them?" I asked the nurse."Yes, through the ports. But hygiene is crucial."I reached through the isolette opening for Baby A. His skin was warm, softer than anything I'd ever felt. When I touched his palm, his fingers curled around mine."Hi, baby," I whispered. "I'm your mama."The tears came then, pouring out."Careful," the nurse reminded gently. "We can't let any fluids inside the isolette. Premature babies have extremely compromised immune systems."I nodded, wiping my face with my other hand before reaching for Baby B. He was equally tiny, equally perfect."Have you thought about names?" the nurse asked."Not
Mia's POV"Mia?" The voice was far away. Familiar but distorted.I tried to respond, but my throat was sandpaper. Where was I? What happened?"Mia, sweetie. Can you hear me?" Closer now. Mom's voice. But different. Strained.Slowly, I forced my eyes open. The fluorescent lights above were too bright. I blinked rapidly, tears forming as my vision adjusted."Oh, thank God." That was Scarlett. "She's awake."The room came into focus gradually. Hospital room. Machines everywhere. Tubes running from my arms. A catheter. The smell of antiseptic was overwhelming."What..." My voice came out as a rasp. "What happened?""Shhh." Mom's cool hand on my forehead. "Don't try to talk yet.""Kyle," I managed to croak. "Where's Kyle?"Mom and Scarlett exchanged a glance."Mia, honey, you need to stay calm," Mom said."My babies." Panic rose in my chest. "The twins. Where are they?""They're fine," Scarlett said quickly. "Both of them. Healthy and perfect.""How long have I been...""Three days," Mom s
Kyle's POVPain. My eyelids felt like lead weights, but I forced them open anyway.Hospital room. Stark white. The antiseptic smell burned my nostrils. A heart monitor beeped steadily beside my bed, its rhythm matching the throbbing in my chest. I tried to move, but tubes and wires restrained me. My throat was sandpaper dry when I swallowed."Mr. Branson?" A voice. Female. Sharp. "Sir, can you hear me?""Mia," I croaked. God, my voice sounded like gravel. "Where is she? Is she—""Please don't try to sit up, sir." The nurse—young, efficient-looking—pressed her hand gently on my shoulder. "You've had major surgery.""Answer me.""I'll get the doctor immediately."A doctor bustled in. Older man, silver at his temples. Professional mask in place. "Mr. Branson, I'm Dr. Harrison. You've been through extensive surgery. The bullet—""I don't care about the bullet. I want to know what happen to my wife"Dr. Harrison exchanged a look with the nurses. My stomach dropped. No."Your wife..." He pa
Mia's POVPain unlike anything I'd ever known tore through my body, a white-hot blade slicing from my spine to my abdomen. The contractions were relentless now, coming one after another without respite, each one stronger than the last. I could feel myself slipping, the edges of my consciousness growing dim."Her blood pressure is dropping again—80/40," a nurse called out, her voice tight with tension. "Heart rate 135.""She's hemorrhaging," Dr. Levine's voice cut through the haze. "Looks like a partial placental abruption. We need to get these babies out now."A mask was placed over my face, the rush of oxygen cool against my skin. The room swam before my eyes, faces blurring into indistinct shapes as blood loss pulled me closer to unconsciousness."Type and cross for four units of packed cells, two units of fresh frozen plasma, and one unit of platelets," Dr. Levine ordered. "And get me an OR. We're doing an emergency C-section."My body felt foreign to me now—heavy and light simulta
Kyle's POVPain. Unimaginable pain.My consciousness came in waves, each one bringing a fresh torrent of agony. The bullet had torn through me like fire, leaving devastation in its wake. I could hear voices around me, urgent and clinical, but they seemed to be coming from underwater, distorted and distant."BP dropping again!""More blood, now!""We're losing him!"I felt myself slipping. The pain began to recede, replaced by a strange weightlessness that should have alarmed me but instead felt oddly peaceful. Was this what dying felt like?The operating room faded around me. The harsh lights, the metallic clink of instruments, the desperate commands of the surgical team. All of it dissolved into a soft darkness.And then, unexpectedly, light.I was small again. Six years old, terrified, huddled in the corner of a damp warehouse. The ropes had cut into my wrists, leaving them raw and bleeding. I could still feel the ache of hunger, the desperate thirst that had made my tongue stick to
Mia's POV"KYLE!" My scream echoed through the hospital corridor as they wheeled him away, his blood leaving a horrifying trail on the white floor. The medical team moved with terrifying urgency, their faces grim."BP critical at 70/30!" "He's tachycardic, pulse 140!" "Blood loss approximately two liters!" "Move, people! We're losing him!"I lunged forward, desperate to reach him, my hands outstretched toward his motionless form. His face had turned an ashen gray, lips tinged blue, eyelids still. So still. Not like Kyle at all."Ma'am, STOP!" A nurse blocked my path as they rushed Kyle through swinging doors marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. "You can't go in there.""He's dying!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "He took that bullet for me!""If you want him to live, you need to let the surgical team work," she said firmly, gripping my shoulders. "And you—" her eyes dropped to my blood-spattered belly, "—need immedia