Page 179 of Betrayal and Vows

The machines beep steadily around us. I try to squeeze her hand, to let her know I'm listening, but I'm not sure if my fingers respond.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

The words hit me like lightning.

"We're going to have a baby, Anton. Your baby. So, you can't leave me now. Our child needs their father."

Pregnant. A baby. My baby.

The revelation cuts through the fog of pain medication and trauma. I fight harder against the darkness, clawing my way toward consciousness. I have to wake up. I have to see her. I have to?—

But the darkness pulls me under again.

The next time awareness finds me; I hear her voice again. She's reading something aloud—a book, maybe. Her voice is hoarse, like she's been talking for hours.

"You missed visiting hours," she says, though I don't think she's talking to me. "The nurses tried to make me leave, but I told them you're my husband. They can't keep a wife from her husband."

Husband. The word sends warmth through my chest despite the pain.

"Dmitri helped me convince them," she continues. "He told them we got married in secret before... before everything happened. I think they believed us because I look like hell and refuse to leave your side."

I want to tell her she's beautiful even when she looks like hell. Want to tell her that calling me her husband is the best thing I've heard in my entire life.

"The baby's okay," she whispers, her voice breaking. "The doctors checked. Everything's fine. But they need their daddy to wake up. I need you to wake up."

I'm trying, solnyshko. I'm fighting with everything I have.

Days blur together. In and out of consciousness, surgeries I'm not fully aware of, the constant presence of Lena's voice calling me back from whatever edge I keep sliding toward.

"You died again," she tells me during one of my brief moments of awareness. "Third time. The doctors got you back, but Anton, you have to stop scaring me like this. I can't lose you. I won't survive it. Stop. Fucking. Dying. Do you hear me? No more."

Died. Three times. But I keep coming back. Because she's calling me. Because she needs me. Because we have a baby coming.

"The fourth time was the worst," she continues.

I realize more time has passed. "You were gone for almost three minutes. Three minutes, Anton. Do you know what three minutes feels like when you're watching the person you love die?"

I want to apologize. Want to promise her I'll stop dying on her. But all I can do is exist in this space between consciousness and oblivion, fighting to get back to her.

"Your mother would be proud of you," Lena whispers one night. "Mama told me more stories about her. About how she used to sing to you, how she protected you as long as she could.She'd be proud of the man you became. The father you're going to be."

Mother. I remember fragments now—her voice, her hands smoothing my hair when I was sick, the way she smelled. She'd want me to fight. She'd want me to live for my family.

The next time I surface, the room is different. Brighter. And Lena's voice sounds stronger.

"The Rostova estate is ours now," she's saying. "Father left everything to me in his will. Mama paid off his debts so it’s ours. I don't want it, but she thinks we should keep it. Says our baby should know where they come from. The good parts, anyway."

Our baby. Every time she says it, something fierce and protective swells in my chest. I have to get better. I have to be there for them.

"Dmitri's been sleeping in that chair for two weeks," she continues with what sounds like a smile in her voice. "He won't leave either. Says someone has to keep me from doing something stupid while you're unconscious. He's probably right."

Dmitri. My brother in every way that matters. Of course he's staying. Of course he's protecting her while I can't.

"Wake up, Anton," Lena pleads. "Please wake up. I need to see your eyes. I need to know you're really going to be okay."

I'm trying. God, I'm trying so hard.

And then, finally, the darkness lifts.