All Chapters of Yes, Daddies: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

81. CaspianThe road through the coastal hills is dark and winding. Our convoy of vehicles moves fast, headlights cutting through the night. Jose’s last update put Allesandro’s vehicle roughly twelve minutes ahead of us if they maintained speed. I sit in the front passenger seat of the lead SUV, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Zavian is directly behind me. The tension in the vehicle is thick enough to feel.None of us speaking. It's as if we are all praying, for the first time ever and to a God we only hear about, that we will find Asena. That something will happen and put her on our path. That heaven will hear us… ha! Life is funny. I never used to pray or even go to church or… but here I am, praying to the God all the believers believe in.Every minute without her feels like another failure. I keep seeing the security footage in my mind: Asena being dragged onto that plane, the blood on her face, the way she disappeared into the dark vehicle. The panic has not left me since the airfie

83. CaspianThe hospital room is quiet except for the soft, steady beeping of the monitors. Asena still has not woken up. Her face is pale against the white pillow. The bruises along her cheek and jaw look darker under the harsh fluorescent light. A small cut at the corner of her mouth has been cleaned and taped. Her hand rests in mine, small and still. Too still.Zavian sits on the other side of the bed, his chair pulled as close as the railing will allow. He has not let go of her other hand for more than a few minutes at a time. Neither of us has left this room since the doctor told us about the baby. Sleep feels impossible. Food feels irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the rise and fall of her chest.I brush my thumb gently across her knuckles, memorizing the feel of her skin.“We’re right here, sweetheart,” I murmur. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”She does not respond. The silence that follows feels heavy enough to crush the air out of the room.I stare at her face and

85. CaspianMorning light filters weakly through the hospital blinds. Asena sleeps between us in the narrow bed, her breathing finally even after the long night of grief. Her face is still pale, the bruises stark against her skin, but she is here. She is alive. That fact is the only thing keeping the darker thoughts at bay.I know we could have kept the truth from her to save her from the pain but that wouldn't have been fair to her. What if she found out eventually and we didn't know what to say? We would be liars. Since she was the mother, she deserved to know what we had lost. She deserved to know what Allesandro had done.Zavian carefully extricates himself from the bed and stands. I follow a moment later, stretching stiff muscles. We move quietly so we do not wake her. For a few minutes we simply stand on either side of the bed, watching her sleep. The raw edge of last night’s sorrow still sits heavy in the room, but underneath it something harder has begun to form: anger.Not th

87. CaspianThe mansion feels different with Asena home.Quieter in some ways. Heavier in others. Every sound seems sharper when she is in the house, the soft pad of her feet on the stairs, the way she moves carefully through doorways, the occasional sharp intake of breath when a memory catches her off guard. Zavian and I notice all of it. We have not stopped noticing since the moment we carried her out of that hospital.The first days settle into a careful rhythm.We take turns staying close. One of us is always within reach. When she sits on the couch in the living room with a blanket over her legs, I bring her tea without being asked. When she tries to stand too quickly, Zavian is already there, a steadying hand at her elbow. She tells us repeatedly that she is fine. That she can do things herself. That we do not need to hover.We hear the words. We do not believe them.Her body is healing. The bruises are fading from deep purple to softer yellows and greens. The cut at the corner

89. AsenaNight settles over the mansion like a heavy blanket. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I lie between Caspian and Zavian in the large bed, staring at the ceiling while their breathing slowly evens out on either side of me. They are both still close, one of Caspian’s arms rests across my waist, Zavian’s hand loosely holds mine, but sleep has taken them.It has not taken me.The grief comes without warning and when I think I have already accepted what happened.One moment I am simply lying there, listening to the soft sounds of the house. The next, the weight of what we lost presses down so hard that I cannot breathe properly. The baby. The tiny life I never even knew I was carrying. Gone before I had the chance to want it, to imagine it, to love it out loud.My chest tightens. Tears fill my eyes and spill over before I can stop them. A broken sound escapes my throat.Caspian wakes instantly. He always does when I make even the smallest noise.“Asena?” His voice is thick with slee