The operating room was already being prepared when Xander was wheeled into the pre-op area. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the sterile chill of the room. Nurses moved briskly around, checking equipment, readying surgical tools, and reviewing charts. Despite the cold, Xander felt a sheen of sweat on his brow. Not from fear but from the weight of what he was about to do.The doctor, Dr. Winston , stood beside him holding the consent forms, his face a mask of concern. He had seen men make sacrifices before, but few with this level of calm, selfless resolve.“Mr. Xander,” he said quietly, “before we proceed, I need to ask you again… Are you sure you want to go through with this?”Xander looked up at him, eyes unwavering. “Yes.”Dr. Winston hesitated. “You understand that, in rare cases, this surgery could lead to serious complications. Loss of mobility. Even permanent paralysis. If something goes wrong with the spinal anesthesia, or if your body reacts adverse
Xander sat still as the nurse carefully collected the blood samples, her gloved hands working swiftly and professionally, but he couldn’t feel anything anymore—not the prick of the needle, not the sting of pain, not even the ache in his back from hours of sitting. His mind was in a haze, a tunnel of grief, panic, and desperate hope. He kept staring at the tray of vials filled with his blood as if they were some sort of offering—his sacrifice, his gift, his last attempt to save the woman who had changed his life in ways he couldn’t begin to explain.Once the samples were collected, the nurse quietly reassured him that the test results would be prioritized and expedited, considering the urgency. Then she gently touched his shoulder and left the room. The moment the door closed, Xander slumped forward, burying his face in his palms.His heart ached.He wasn’t prepared for this. No one ever is. He had come to the hospital terrified about the baby, terrified about June’s labor pains. But t
As the team vanished again behind the heavy doors of the operating theatre, Xander stood frozen. The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He sat, then stood, then paced. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was June lying pale and fragile on that hospital bed, struggling to smile through her pain. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He would have traded places with her in a heartbeat if he could.He thought of the first time he laid eyes on her June in her simple white dress, standing in the garden with the sun on her face. How she’d made him laugh. How she’d held his hand when no one else believed in him. How she’d stood by him when his own family turned their backs. She had loved him when he had nothing. And now, all he could do was sit here and pray to a God he hadn’t spoken to in years.“Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t take her from me. Please don’t take my baby.”The doors finally creaked open after what felt like an eternity.Xander jum
The night had been unusually quiet, with a calming stillness that had settled over the house like a blanket. June lay nestled in the warmth of the bed, one hand resting gently over her swollen belly, the rhythm of her breath soft and even. Beside her, Xander had finally dozed off, the worry lines on his face slightly eased by exhaustion. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind—boardroom battles, tense conversations with his father, threats of scandal, and the constant fear that something might go wrong with June’s pregnancy. It all weighed on him. But in that moment, as he slept with his hand still entwined with hers, there was only peace.Until it shattered.A sharp cry escaped from June’s lips. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to jolt Xander awake instantly. He sat upright, blinking as he registered the sound. June groaned again, her face contorted in pain as she doubled over, gripping her belly. Her breaths were shallow and rapid.“June?” Xander said, panicked. “What’s wrong?”She
Audrey’s breath fogged up the glass as she stood at the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The world outside was quiet, still mockingly so. The moon hung high, casting its pale light on the garden Larry had planted for her two years ago, when he still loved her, or at least when he still tried to.She scoffed under her breath.“Love,” she whispered bitterly, “what a pathetic illusion.”She turned away from the window and stalked back across the room. Her heels tapped sharply on the floor until she kicked them off in frustration and collapsed into the plush armchair beside the fireplace. Her fingers trembled as she picked up her phone and scrolled through old photos pictures of her and Larry smiling, her hand resting on her stomach during the early weeks of the pregnancy, blurry selfies from their vacation in Santorini, where Larry had first called her “his forever.”The same “forever” who now wanted a divorce.She tossed the phone across the room, and it landed with a soft t
The living room was quiet, dimly lit by the fading evening sun that streamed through the tall windows. Larry sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, knuckles white with tension. Across from him, Audrey sat in a loose silk robe, her face pale but defiant, her eyes shadowed with both grief and anger.“We need to talk,” Larry began, his voice low, trembling with the weight of what he was about to say.Audrey looked up, slightly startled by his tone. “Okay,” she said warily, adjusting herself upright on the couch. “I’m listening.”There was a long pause. Larry struggled to find the right words, but none felt soft enough to cushion the blow, or sharp enough to cut clean.“I want a divorce.”Audrey blinked. Her expression didn’t immediately shift. For a heartbeat, it was like she hadn’t heard him. Then, slowly, a bitter laugh escaped her lips.“You think after everything we’ve been through, after I lost our child, our baby, that you can just dump me as you p