The Westlend estate glowed gold beneath the early evening sky.

The mansion itself looked more like a palace than a home, towering over the hills with massive marble pillars, glowing chandeliers, black iron balconies, and fountains spilling endlessly into stone pools outside. Luxury dripped from every corner of the estate.

And yet somehow, despite all that beauty…

The atmosphere inside the dining hall was tense as hell.

The long dinner table stretched almost the entire room, lined with crystal glasses, expensive china, silver candleholders, and enough food to feed an army. The two families sat together in organized chaos.

The Westlends on one side.

The Chensworths on the other.

At the center sat Malia Westlend beside her husband, Johnathan Westlend.

Malia looked beautiful even while exhausted.

Her impossibly long wavy hair spilled down the back of her chair and nearly touched the floor, thick and carefully maintained despite pregnancy draining the life out of her lately. Her soft rose-colored dress stretched gently over her very pregnant belly, and every few moments her breathing hitched faintly in her chest.

Johnathan immediately noticed every single one.

“You alright, baby?” he asked softly, leaning closer.

Malia gave a tiny nod.

“I’m okay.”

Her voice was quiet. Always quiet.

Johnathan frowned anyway.

“You sure? Your breathing sounds a little rough again.”

Across the table, somebody scoffed dramatically.

“Oh my God, not this again.”

Gia.

Of course.

Gianna “Gia” Westlend-Chensworth sat leaned back in her chair beside her husband Montez, one manicured hand draped dramatically over her own pregnant stomach while the other held a wine glass she technically was not supposed to be drinking from.

Her makeup was flawless. Her attitude disgusting.

Gia rolled her eyes.

“Malia breathes hard every damn day. If we stopped dinner every time she sighed, we’d never eat.”

The room went awkwardly quiet.

Malia lowered her eyes toward her plate.

Johnathan sighed tiredly. “Gia, chill the hell out.”

Gia shrugged dramatically. “What? I’m just saying everybody babies her too much.”

Montez slowly turned his head toward his wife.

The massive Mafia king looked terrifying even sitting down.

Broad shoulders. Dark tailored suit. Heavy rings glinting under the chandelier light. His expression cold enough to freeze the entire damn room.

“Gianna,” Montez said calmly, “shut the fuck up while people are eating.”

Gia blinked in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“I said shut. The fuck. Up.”

The table instantly went silent.

Even the servants froze.

Montez took another slow sip of wine, completely unbothered.

Across from them, Evelyn Chensworth, Malia and Gia’s mother, immediately jumped in nervously.

“Montez, sweetheart, Gia didn’t mean anything by it—”

“No,” Montez interrupted flatly. “Your youngest daughter just likes hearing herself talk.”

Gia’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh, so now everybody’s against me tonight?”

“No,” muttered Damien Westlend, Montez and Johnathan’s cousin. “You just annoying as shit every night.”

A few people coughed to hide laughter.

Gia glared.

“You know what? This family acts like Malia is some helpless princess all because she has health problems.”

Malia quietly continued eating.

Not reacting. Not defending herself.

That somehow made the entire thing sadder.

Johnathan wrapped an arm tighter around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head.

“Baby, ignore her.”

Malia nodded softly.

Johnathan immediately went back to taking care of her.

“Eat some more.”

“I’m full.”

“You barely touched anything.”

“M’trying…”

His expression softened instantly.

Without hesitation, Johnathan picked up her fork himself and started feeding her carefully.

“There,” he murmured. “Just a little more.”

The families watched.

And honestly? At first glance, Johnathan really did look like a devoted husband.

He adjusted Malia’s chair for her. Held drinks to her lips. Rubbed her belly absentmindedly while talking to the table. Checked her breathing every few minutes.

But the problem wasn’t that Johnathan didn’t love Malia.

The problem was…

He loved her while constantly abandoning her emotionally whenever Gia started another damn crisis.

And right on cue—

Gia suddenly gasped loudly.

“Oh my God…”

Everyone looked over immediately.

Gia pressed a hand dramatically against her stomach.

Montez didn’t even react.

Gia inhaled sharply again.

“I-I think something’s wrong…”

Immediately chaos exploded around the table.

“Gia?!” “What happened?!” “Is it the baby?!” “Call the doctor!” “Oh Lord Jesus—”

Johnathan instantly stood up.

“What’s wrong?”

Malia’s hand slowly lowered from her fork.

Nobody noticed.

Gia whimpered dramatically.

“My stomach tightened—ahh…”

Evelyn rushed over immediately.

“Oh baby, breathe!”

“I AM breathing!”

“You’re stressing yourself out!”

“Montez, do something!” Gia snapped.

Montez stared at her for a long moment.

Then he deadpanned:

“You got gas.”

Several people choked trying not to laugh.

Gia looked horrified.

“Montez!”

“I’m serious,” he replied calmly. “You ate six damn butter rolls and three glasses of sparkling cider.”

“It’s not gas!”

“You literally burped thirty seconds ago.”

The table lost it.

Damien bent forward laughing.

Even some servants turned away hiding smiles.

Gia looked furious.

“This isn’t funny!”

Meanwhile…

At the end of the table…

Malia quietly finished her food alone.

Nobody looked at her.

Nobody noticed the way her chest tightened painfully. Or how tired her eyes looked. Or how her hand briefly pressed against her ribs when breathing hurt again.

Johnathan was still standing beside Gia now.

Trying to help.

Again.

Malia slowly picked up her napkin.

Dabbed her lips delicately.

Then pushed her chair back quietly.

The sound barely registered under the chaos.

She stood slowly, one hand supporting the underside of her heavy belly.

And simply walked out.

Silent as a ghost.

Montez noticed immediately.

His eyes tracked her leaving the room.

Then his expression darkened.

Johnathan was still focused on Gia.

“Maybe we should call somebody just in case—”

“JOHNATHAN.”

Montez’s deep voice thundered through the room.

Everyone froze.

Johnathan turned.

Montez stared at him with irritation.

“Go get your fucking wife.”

Johnathan blinked.

“What?”

“I can handle mine.”

The words hit hard.

Johnathan immediately looked toward Malia’s empty chair.

His stomach dropped.

“Oh shit…”

Without another word, he hurried out the dining room.

Upstairs—

Malia moved slowly up the massive staircase.

One hand gripped the railing while the other cradled beneath her stomach protectively.

Her breathing sounded strained now.

Not dramatic. Not attention-seeking.

Just tired.

Painfully tired.

Johnathan appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Malia!”

She paused but didn’t turn around.

Johnathan rushed upward quickly.

“Baby, wait.”

Malia exhaled softly.

“I’m okay.”

“No the hell you’re not.”

He reached her within seconds and immediately saw how pale she looked.

His face tightened instantly.

“Malia…”

She looked away quietly.

“I just wanted to lay down for a little while.”

“And you were gonna walk all the way up these damn stairs by yourself?”

“I can still walk, John.”

“Fuck that.”

Before she could protest, Johnathan carefully scooped her up into his arms.

Malia let out a tiny startled sound.

“Johnathan—”

“You’re breathing too hard.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that every time something’s wrong.”

Malia went quiet after that.

Johnathan carried her effortlessly up the remaining stairs, holding her close against his chest.

And despite everything…

Despite how hurt she quietly felt…

Malia still instinctively curled into him.

Still held onto his shirt softly. Still rested against him.

Johnathan noticed immediately.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling good.”

Malia stared ahead quietly.

“You were busy.”

The sentence was soft.

But it hit him like a punch to the chest.

Johnathan looked down at her slowly.

For once…

He had no response.

Because deep down?

He knew exactly what she meant.

Later that evening, the Westlend estate had finally quieted down.

Most of the family had retreated to their separate wings of the mansion after dinner, though faint arguing could still occasionally be heard somewhere downstairs. The estate never truly slept. Not with this many rich, dramatic people living under one damn roof.

Inside the master bedroom, however…

Things were finally calm.

Soft golden lights glowed against the massive room while rain tapped gently against the windows overlooking the estate gardens. The fireplace crackled low in the background.

Malia sat quietly at the large vanity near the windows.

Her long wavy hair cascaded down around her body like silk, nearly pooling onto the floor behind the chair. She slowly brushed through it section by section, movements calm and practiced despite how exhausted she looked.

The oversized cream sleep robe draped over her pregnant body loosely, though her stomach was still impossible to hide now.

Full term.

Almost there.

The thought alone still felt unreal sometimes.

Four years.

That was how long she and Johnathan had waited for this baby.

Not because they couldn’t have children.

But because life had always gotten in the way.

Business trips. Family obligations. The Westlend empire. Her worsening health. Their constant schedules.

And then eventually…

Pressure.

So much damn pressure.

“When are y’all finally having a baby?” “You’ve been married four years already.” “Gia will probably have kids first at this rate.”

Malia remembered every comment.

Every look.

Every fake concerned smile.

Meanwhile she and Johnathan had quietly agreed to wait until life slowed down enough to actually enjoy becoming parents.

Now here she was.

Huge. Exhausted. Emotionally drained.

But carrying the child they had waited years for.

The bedroom door opened quietly behind her.

Johnathan walked in freshly showered, wearing black lounge pants and nothing else. His damp hair fell loosely over his forehead as he loosened the expensive watch on his wrist.

The second he saw Malia sitting there brushing her hair quietly…

His entire face softened.

God.

She looked beautiful.

Even tired. Even sick.

Always beautiful.

Johnathan walked behind her slowly.

Malia glanced up at him through the mirror.

Neither of them spoke at first.

Then Johnathan leaned down and kissed the side of her head gently.

“How you feeling now?”

Malia continued brushing softly.

“Tired.”

“You still hurting?”

“A little.”

Johnathan frowned immediately.

“Chest?”

She nodded faintly.

Johnathan exhaled slowly through his nose.

“I hate that shit.”

Malia’s lips twitched slightly.

“I know.”

He rested both hands on her shoulders gently.

“You should’ve told me it got worse tonight.”

“You already had enough going on.”

“Malia.”

His tone deepened instantly.

She looked up at him through the mirror again.

Johnathan’s expression tightened.

“That’s exactly the problem right there.”

Malia blinked slowly.

“What?”

“You keep acting like your pain is some inconvenience everybody gotta work around.”

Her fingers paused against her hairbrush.

Johnathan sighed heavily.

“You’re carrying my child while your body’s struggling every damn day, baby. That’s not ‘too much.’ That’s serious.”

Malia lowered her eyes quietly.

Nobody defended her like this consistently.

Not really.

Johnathan rubbed the side of her neck softly.

“We’re almost there though.”

Malia’s hand slowly moved to her belly.

Almost there.

The baby shifted heavily beneath her hand as if responding.

Johnathan instantly smiled.

“There go my little troublemaker.”

Malia gave a tiny sleepy smile.

“He moves a lot at night.”

“Probably got your attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

Johnathan snorted.

“Bullshit.”

Malia looked mildly offended.

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do. Yours just quiet.”

He leaned down closer near her ear.

“You get mad and start answering people with them little one-word replies.”

“That’s because people annoy me.”

“There it is.”

Malia rolled her eyes softly.

Johnathan laughed under his breath.

God, he loved hearing her talk more lately.

For so long Malia had become quieter and quieter around everybody.

Like she was slowly disappearing emotionally.

But moments like this?

When it was just them?

He could still see pieces of the woman he fell in love with.

Johnathan’s hands slid gently over her belly from behind.

The baby shifted again instantly.

“There he go.”

Malia relaxed against him slightly.

“You nervous?” Johnathan asked quietly.

“A little.”

“Me too.”

That surprised her enough to glance up.

“You are?”

“Hell yeah.”

He rubbed her stomach carefully.

“I’m terrified actually.”

Malia smiled faintly.

“You don’t look terrified.”

“I’m rich, baby. We trained not to look stressed.”

That earned him another tiny smile.

Johnathan looked at her reflection for a long moment.

Then quieter—

“I really do love you, you know.”

Malia’s fingers stilled again.

Johnathan rarely said things so openly.

Not because he didn’t feel them.

But because he got distracted too easily by everything around him.

Work. Family. Chaos.

Malia looked down softly.

“I know.”

But for some reason…

Tonight the answer didn’t sound fully convincing.

Johnathan noticed immediately.

Before he could say anything else—

His phone rang loudly on the vanity counter.

Both of them looked over.

Malia already knew who it was before the screen even lit up.

Gia.

Johnathan sighed heavily.

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

The phone kept vibrating aggressively.

Malia looked back toward the mirror quietly.

“Answer it.”

“I don’t even want to.”

The phone continued ringing.

Finally Johnathan grabbed it roughly.

“What?”

The second he answered—

Gia’s screaming exploded through speakerphone.

“JOHNATHAN OH MY GOD—”

Johnathan jerked the phone away from his ear instantly.

“What the fuck?!”

In the background, chaos erupted.

Gia sounded hysterical.

“MY BACK HURTS—” “NOBODY CARES ABOUT ME IN THIS HOUSE—” “I THINK SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH THE BABY—”

Then Montez’s furious voice boomed loudly behind her.

“GIANNA IF YOU DON’T GET THE FUCK OFF THEIR PHONE—”

“DON’T YELL AT ME!”

“You called them screaming like somebody got shot!”

“I COULD BE DYING!”

“You are not fucking dying!”

More yelling.

Something crashed loudly.

Then Montez again—

“Johnathan, hang up this damn phone.”

Gia screeched in the background.

“DON’T TELL HIM TO HANG UP ON ME!”

Montez sounded one second away from losing his damn mind.

“Woman, you got heartburn and attitude. Take your ass to bed.”

“I HATE YOU!”

“GOOD.”

Johnathan closed his eyes tiredly.

“Mhm. Aight. Goodnight.”

He hung up immediately.

Silence filled the room again.

Johnathan rubbed his face slowly.

“I swear to God everybody in this damn family needs therapy.”

Malia glanced at him quietly from the vanity mirror.

For a second…

Neither of them spoke.

Then Malia simply stood carefully and walked toward the bed.

No complaint. No argument.

Just quiet acceptance.

That somehow made Johnathan feel worse.

Malia slowly climbed into bed, exhaustion clearly taking over her body now. She laid carefully onto her side with one hand beneath her stomach automatically.

Within minutes her breathing softened.

Sleep coming quickly.

Johnathan stood there watching her silently.

Rain continued outside.

The room dim and warm around them.

Slowly, guilt crept into his chest.

Because even though he had hung up tonight…

He knew the damage was already done.

Again.

Every single time Gia screamed, the attention shifted. Every single damn time.

And Malia always quietly stepped aside like she expected it.

Johnathan walked toward the bed slowly.

Then carefully laid behind her.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight.

Malia stirred faintly in her sleep as Johnathan wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently against his chest.

Instinctively…

Even asleep…

Malia curled closer.

Johnathan buried his face against the back of her hair quietly.

His hand rested protectively over both her belly and hers.

And for the first time that night…

He looked genuinely troubled.

Because deep down?

He was starting to realize something terrifying.

His wife had gotten far too used to being second place.

The next morning, the Westlend estate was already loud.

Voices echoed through the marble halls. Servants rushed everywhere. Phones rang endlessly. Someone downstairs was arguing about flower arrangements for some upcoming charity gala nobody actually wanted to attend.

Typical.

Outside the estate, a massive black luxury limo waited near the front entrance while security vehicles lined up behind it.

The family was going shopping.

Not normal shopping.

Westlend shopping.

Meaning entire luxury stores would temporarily shut down for them.

Inside the limo, the atmosphere was crowded, expensive, and already irritating as hell.

The vehicle was large enough to resemble a private lounge, complete with leather seating, mini tables, chilled drinks, and television screens built into the walls.

Malia sat quietly beside Johnathan near the back.

Her oxygen tubing rested gently beneath her nose today, the portable oxygen machine positioned discreetly beside her seat. She looked exhausted already despite barely speaking all morning.

Johnathan kept one arm around her protectively while occasionally rubbing her belly absentmindedly.

Across from them sat Montez and Gia.

And unfortunately…

Gia had been talking nonstop for almost thirty damn minutes.

“I already told the designer I want imported Italian wallpaper for the nursery because regular wallpaper looks cheap,” Gia rambled dramatically while scrolling through her phone. “And the crib absolutely has to be custom-made because I refuse to let my baby sleep in something basic.”

Beside her, Montez looked spiritually exhausted.

The massive Mafia king sat leaned back in silence wearing dark glasses despite being indoors.

At this point he looked like he wanted the limo to crash just so the conversation would end.

Gia continued anyway.

“And obviously our nursery theme is going to trend online once people see it because nobody in this city has taste like me.”

From further down the limo, one of the other Westlend brothers, Rafael Westlend, muttered under his breath:

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

His wife, Selene, elbowed him instantly.

“Stop.”

“No, seriously,” Rafael groaned. “If she says ‘nursery aesthetic’ one more damn time, I’m jumping out the window.”

Gia ignored him completely.

Meanwhile Malia quietly rested against the seat beside Johnathan.

She hadn’t said much the entire ride.

Not because she was upset.

She was just tired.

Pregnancy had become physically brutal these last few weeks.

The oxygen helped, but her chest still tightened painfully if she overexerted herself.

Johnathan noticed her shifting slightly beside him.

“You okay?”

Malia nodded faintly.

“Mhm.”

“You need the air turned cooler?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

Malia looked up at him softly.

“I’m okay, John.”

Johnathan still adjusted the vent toward her anyway.

Across from them, Gia suddenly scoffed loudly.

“I still don’t understand why y’all aren’t doing a gender reveal.”

Malia blinked slowly.

Johnathan answered before she could.

“Because we don’t want one.”

Gia looked horrified by that answer.

“But that’s literally part of the experience.”

Johnathan shrugged.

“We don’t care.”

Gia stared like he’d committed a crime.

“How do you not care?”

“Because we just don’t.”

Gia rolled her eyes dramatically.

“That’s boring.”

Johnathan gave her a flat look.

“Or maybe we just don’t feel like setting off fireworks and accidentally burning down half the damn city for Instagram.”

Several people laughed.

Gia looked offended immediately.

“I was not gonna burn anything down.”

Montez finally spoke without lifting his head.

“You almost burned down the vineyard last year revealing your damn puppy.”

“That was ONE sparkler!”

“That shit hit dry grass.”

Gia folded her arms angrily.

“Well at least I know how to make moments special.”

The subtle jab hung in the air.

Malia quietly looked down at her hands.

Johnathan noticed instantly.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“We wanted something simple,” he said firmly. “Something meaningful.”

Gia snorted.

“That sounds cheap.”

This time Montez looked over at her slowly.

“You do realize not everybody needs a circus every five minutes to feel loved, right?”

Gia glared at him.

“You always defend Malia.”

“Because unlike you,” Montez replied calmly, “she acts like she got some damn sense.”

The tension instantly thickened.

Further down the limo, Damien muttered:

“Ohhh shit…”

Gia’s eyes widened dramatically.

“You know what? Everybody acts like Malia is some perfect saint all the damn time.”

Nobody answered immediately.

Because honestly?

Compared to Gia…

Malia kind of was.

Malia shifted quietly beside Johnathan and looked out the tinted window.

The city moved outside in blurred flashes of glass buildings and sunlight.

She hated these conversations.

Not because Gia insulted her.

But because everything always somehow became competition.

Even pregnancy.

Especially pregnancy.

Gia had been obsessed ever since discovering Malia was pregnant too.

Who would give birth first. Whose baby would get more attention. Whose nursery would be bigger. Whose husband was “more devoted.”

It was exhausting.

Meanwhile Malia and Johnathan genuinely just wanted peace.

After four years of waiting, stressful fertility pressure from both families, and Malia’s worsening health…

They simply wanted their baby safe.

That was enough.

Near the minibar area, Montez suddenly looked toward Johnathan.

“You hear about the inheritance meeting next month?”

Johnathan immediately groaned.

“Oh my fucking God.”

Several others reacted too.

Rafael leaned back dramatically.

“Here we go…”

Gia perked up instantly.

“What inheritance meeting?”

Montez removed his glasses slowly.

“Our grandfather’s updating ownership percentages again.”

Gia’s eyes widened.

“Oh.”

Immediately interested.

Of course.

Johnathan rolled his eyes hard enough to damn near hurt himself.

“This family is ridiculous.”

Montez nodded once.

“Facts.”

The Westlend empire was worth billions upon billions.

Hotels. Oil. Shipping companies. Private security. Underground operations nobody publicly discussed.

Every single person in this limo was already filthy rich.

Yet somehow the older generation still treated inheritance percentages like a damn blood sport.

Johnathan rubbed his forehead tiredly.

“We literally all make billions already. Why the fuck are they still acting like inheritance money matters?”

“Control,” Montez answered simply.

“That shit is stupid.”

“It is stupid.”

Gia suddenly sat up straighter.

“Well obviously the children matter now though.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly.

Of course.

There it was.

The babies.

The next generation.

The future heirs.

Gia smirked faintly.

“Grandfather’s definitely going to prioritize the grandchildren born into direct bloodlines first.”

Rafael groaned instantly.

“Oh my God, here she go.”

Selene sighed.

“Gia…”

But Gia kept going.

“I’m just saying people should stop acting like this isn’t important because it is.”

Johnathan’s expression darkened slightly now.

“You really think our children need to compete before they’re even born?”

Gia shrugged carelessly.

“That’s how powerful families work.”

Malia suddenly spoke quietly for the first time in a while.

“That sounds sad.”

The limo went silent.

Everybody looked at her.

Malia kept her eyes lowered softly.

“Our baby isn’t even here yet,” she murmured quietly. “I don’t want them growing up feeling like love depends on money.”

The words hit unexpectedly hard.

Even Montez looked at her differently for a second.

Gia scoffed.

“Well that’s easy to say when you’re already everybody’s favorite.”

The statement made several people physically cringe.

Because the irony was almost laughable.

Favorite?

Malia?

The woman everybody overlooked constantly?

Johnathan’s face hardened instantly.

“Gia, enough.”

“No, seriously,” Gia snapped. “Everybody babies her—”

“Because she’s actually kind,” Montez interrupted sharply.

Gia whipped toward him.

“You always got some shit to say when it comes to her!”

“And you always got some weird ass jealousy problem when it comes to your sister.”

The limo became dead silent.

Gia’s face flushed instantly.

“I am NOT jealous of Malia!”

Montez gave her a long look.

Then flatly—

“Bullshit.”

Johnathan leaned back beside Malia slowly.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders tighter.

And for the first time that morning…

He noticed something painful.

While Gia fought desperately to become the center of attention…

Malia looked like someone trying to disappear quietly into the seat beside him.

The luxury mall was completely shut down for the Westlend family.

Security guards stood near every entrance. Employees practically bowed while guiding them through the marble halls. Designer stores opened privately one after another while regular shoppers were forced to remain outside behind velvet ropes.

The entire place smelled like expensive perfume, polished floors, and money.

Malia already looked tired.

The oxygen tubing still rested beneath her nose as she walked slowly beside the others, one hand supporting beneath her stomach while Johnathan stayed close protectively.

At least…

He had been close.

Until Gia started acting up again.

“Oh my God, Johnathan, come with me for a second,” Gia whined dramatically while tugging his sleeve. “Montez keeps saying no to everything.”

Montez didn’t even look up from his phone.

“Because you don’t need six fucking bassinets, Gianna.”

“They’re decorative!”

“They’re for sleeping babies!”

Gia rolled her eyes.

“You have absolutely no vision.”

Montez muttered something in Italian under his breath that definitely wasn’t nice.

Gia ignored him completely and turned toward Johnathan instead.

“Come onnnn. You actually know how to shop.”

Johnathan glanced between Gia and Malia uncertainly.

“Gia—”

“It’ll only take a minute.”

Malia already knew that tone.

Gia didn’t actually need help shopping.

She just wanted attention.

And worse—

She wanted Malia standing alone while she played happy family with Johnathan in public.

Again.

Malia lowered her eyes quietly.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You can go.”

Johnathan frowned immediately.

“You sure?”

Malia nodded once.

“I’ll be fine.”

Montez looked over at Johnathan slowly.

The older brother already knew exactly what Gia was doing.

Unfortunately…

Johnathan still fell for it sometimes.

Johnathan sighed.

“Aight. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Malia gave another small nod.

Then just like that—

Gia looped her arm dramatically through Johnathan’s and walked off with a smug smile on her face.

Montez watched them disappear into another luxury boutique.

Then he groaned loudly and dragged a hand down his face.

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Malia looked down quietly.

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Montez replied flatly. “That manipulative shit gets on my damn nerves.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket roughly.

“Come on.”

Malia blinked softly.

“Where?”

“You look like you about to pass out standing in this loud ass hallway. We’re going somewhere quiet.”

Before she could protest, Montez carefully guided her away from the crowded center of the mall.

Unlike everyone else in the family, Montez walked slower for her automatically.

Never rushing her. Never making her feel like a burden.

Eventually they reached a quieter part of the mall filled with smaller luxury boutiques and antique shops.

One little storefront immediately caught Malia’s attention.

A vintage children’s store.

Soft golden lights glowed through the windows, illuminating old-fashioned toys, hand-sewn blankets, rocking horses, and antique cribs.

Montez noticed her slowing.

“You wanna go in?”

Malia hesitated.

Then nodded slightly.

The bell chimed softly overhead as they entered.

The store felt warm.

Peaceful.

Nothing like the loud chaos surrounding their families constantly.

An older woman behind the register smiled kindly.

“Well aren’t you just precious,” she said warmly toward Malia. “How far along are you, sweetheart?”

“Almost due,” Malia answered quietly.

The woman’s face softened instantly.

“Oh honey…”

Montez wandered nearby silently while Malia moved slowly through the store.

Her fingers brushed over tiny knitted blankets. Soft baby clothes. Handmade mobiles.

Then she saw it.

A teddy bear sitting quietly on the highest shelf.

Simple. Brown. Soft-looking.

And wrapped around its neck was a large yellow bow.

Malia stopped completely.

Something about it hurt her chest suddenly.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

The bear looked loved already somehow.

Like something a child would hold onto forever.

Montez noticed her staring.

Without a word, he reached up and grabbed it carefully from the shelf before handing it to her.

Malia held it gently against her chest.

Her fingers pressed softly into the fur.

Montez watched her quietly.

Then after a moment—

“You like it that much?”

Malia nodded faintly.

“It feels… comforting.”

Montez’s expression softened slightly.

Most people didn’t know much about Malia’s childhood.

Not really.

Because the Chensworth family worked overtime pretending everything had always been perfect.

But Montez knew.

Malia wasn’t truly treated like a daughter growing up.

Not after Gia was born.

Gia—the affair child born from their father’s mistress.

And somehow despite that?

Gia became the center of the family anyway.

While Malia slowly became…

An obligation.

The “good girl.” The understanding one. The quiet one who accepted less without complaint.

Montez had watched it happen for years.

Watched Malia thank people for crumbs of affection while Gia demanded entire worlds.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“You should get it.”

Malia looked up.

“It’s expensive.”

Montez almost laughed.

“You married into the Westlends, princess. Everything in this damn mall expensive.”

Malia’s lips twitched faintly.

Montez paid for the teddy bear before she could argue.

When they stepped back outside the store—

They immediately spotted Johnathan and Gia nearby.

And Montez’s mood instantly soured again.

Johnathan stood surrounded by shopping bags.

Massive shopping bags.

Designer baby carriers. Custom blankets. Imported toys. Gold-trimmed baby furniture catalogs.

Enough ridiculous expensive shit to fill an entire nursery already.

Gia stood beside him looking extremely pleased with herself.

Meanwhile Johnathan looked tired as hell.

The second Montez saw all those bags—

He groaned loudly.

“Oh my fucking God.”

Johnathan looked over.

Relief immediately crossed his face when he saw Malia.

“Baby.”

Gia instantly noticed the teddy bear in Malia’s arms.

Her face tightened subtly.

“That’s what y’all bought?”

Malia nodded softly.

“It’s cute.”

Gia blinked.

“That little thing?”

Montez looked one second away from snapping.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “Because normal people buy shit they actually like instead of trying to impress strangers on the internet.”

Gia rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Oh please.”

Montez suddenly snatched several shopping bags from Johnathan’s hands aggressively.

Johnathan blinked.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your marriage.”

Gia looked offended immediately.

Montez grabbed her wrist lightly.

“Come on.”

“I’m not done shopping!”

“You done now.”

“Montez—”

“You got enough baby shit to open a damn daycare.”

Gia huffed loudly while Montez practically dragged her toward another store.

As they disappeared, Johnathan finally exhaled heavily.

“Jesus Christ…”

Then he looked toward Malia properly.

His entire expression softened instantly.

She stood there quietly cradling the teddy bear against her chest, her long hair blowing softly from the mall entrance breeze.

Beautiful.

Always beautiful.

Johnathan smiled softly.

“What’s that?”

Malia looked down at the bear.

“Our baby’s first toy.”

Something emotional flickered across Johnathan’s face immediately.

Four years.

Four years waiting for this moment.

Carefully, he reached out and took the teddy bear from her hands gently.

The yellow bow rested against his fingers.

Johnathan smiled unexpectedly wider.

“That’s actually cute as hell.”

Malia looked up at him softly.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

He turned the bear over thoughtfully.

“This feels more… us.”

Malia’s chest tightened painfully at those words.

Us.

Simple. Quiet. Meaningful.

Not loud performances like Gia wanted.

Johnathan wrapped an arm carefully around Malia’s shoulders again while holding the bear in his other hand.

Then he leaned down near her ear quietly.

“Sorry I left you earlier.”

Malia looked away softly.

“It’s okay.”

But this time…

Johnathan noticed something.

She answered too fast.

Like she was used to saying it now.

By late afternoon, the shopping trip had somehow become even more exhausting.

The mall employees looked traumatized. Security guards were whispering among themselves. And several luxury stores had quietly started limiting how many Westlends could enter at once after Gia nearly started an argument with a designer over imported lace samples.

Malia’s chest hurt.

Badly.

But she didn’t say anything.

She simply walked quietly beside Johnathan while holding onto his arm for balance, the oxygen tubing still beneath her nose.

Johnathan noticed her slowing every few minutes.

“You need to sit down?”

“I’m okay.”

“You said that an hour ago too.”

“I know.”

His brows furrowed.

“You breathing harder again?”

“A little.”

Johnathan instantly looked concerned.

“We can leave.”

Malia shook her head softly.

“No. I still wanna shop for the baby.”

That answer alone made his expression soften immediately.

God.

Even exhausted, she still cared more about making memories than complaining.

Meanwhile—

Several stores ahead—

Gia was loudly arguing with Montez again.

“You are ruining this experience for me!”

Montez looked dead inside.

“Gianna, you’ve spent almost two hundred thousand dollars today.”

“And?”

“You bought a fucking diamond pacifier.”

“It’s decorative!”

“It’s stupid!”

“It’s luxury!”

“It’s for a BABY!”

People openly stared now.

Rafael walked past holding coffee and muttered:

“I need alcohol.”

Selene sighed tiredly beside him.

“Honestly? Same.”

Eventually the families entered another large luxury baby boutique.

This one was quieter.

Elegant.

Cream-colored walls. Soft music. Vintage-inspired decor.

The atmosphere immediately relaxed Malia slightly.

She wandered slowly through the displays while Johnathan stayed close behind her.

Then she saw it.

A beautiful handmade crib mobile hanging near the nursery displays.

Soft ivory clouds. Tiny golden stars. Little moon charms suspended delicately on thin threads.

Simple.

Peaceful.

Beautiful.

Malia stopped completely.

Johnathan noticed instantly.

“You like that one?”

Malia nodded faintly.

“It’s pretty.”

“It matches the nursery idea too.”

Malia smiled softly.

Their nursery plans were intentionally simple.

Warm neutral colors. Soft lighting. Bookshelves. Comfort.

Not social media perfection. Not gold-plated insanity.

Just love.

Johnathan reached toward the mobile—

Then suddenly—

“OHHH MY GOD THIS IS PERFECT.”

Gia.

Of fucking course.

She appeared out of nowhere and immediately grabbed the mobile dramatically before Johnathan could touch it.

“I’ve been looking for something like this!”

Malia’s expression immediately dimmed slightly.

Not dramatically.

Not visibly enough for most people to notice.

But Johnathan noticed.

And Montez definitely noticed.

The Mafia king stared at his wife like she had personally offended him spiritually.

“Gianna.”

Gia ignored him completely while examining the mobile.

“This is sooo much cuter than the ugly crystal one we bought earlier.”

Montez blinked slowly.

“You bought four crystal mobiles.”

“Those were backup options.”

“You also bought two custom ones from Paris.”

“Well now I like this one better.”

Montez dragged a hand down his face violently.

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

Gia clutched the mobile tighter.

“This one’s mine.”

Silence.

Malia immediately stepped back quietly.

Of course she did.

Like always.

“No it’s okay,” she murmured softly. “She can have it.”

Johnathan looked at her sharply.

“Malia—”

“It’s fine.”

Montez looked furious now.

“No the fuck it’s not.”

Gia rolled her eyes instantly.

“Why are you acting like I stole her life savings? It’s literally a mobile.”

“No,” Montez said coldly. “You saw she liked it and grabbed it because you can’t stand not being the center of attention for five damn minutes.”

Gia gasped dramatically.

“You are unbelievable!”

“And you are annoying as shit.”

“Montez!”

“I mean damn, Gianna,” he snapped. “You already bought enough nursery decorations to furnish a small country.”

People nearby started pretending not to listen.

Johnathan’s jaw tightened.

Malia just stood there quietly between them.

Hands folded softly over her stomach.

Not fighting. Not arguing. Not even asking for the mobile anymore.

That somehow made everything worse.

Because she looked used to disappointment.

Johnathan stared at her for a long moment.

Then suddenly turned toward the employee nearby.

“We’ll take that mobile.”

Gia whipped around instantly.

“Excuse me?!”

Johnathan didn’t even look at her.

“The display one too if necessary.”

The employee looked nervous.

“Uh—yes sir.”

Gia looked outraged.

“I literally said I wanted it first!”

Johnathan finally looked at her.

“And Malia saw it first.”

Gia blinked in disbelief.

The room got quiet.

Because Johnathan almost never directly opposed Gia publicly.

Montez looked impressed for half a second.

Gia folded her arms angrily.

“You always take her side.”

Johnathan answered flatly:

“She’s my wife.”

That shut everybody up.

Even Malia looked surprised.

Johnathan carefully took the mobile from the employee once it was boxed.

Then handed it gently toward Malia.

“There.”

Malia looked down at it quietly.

“…thank you.”

Johnathan leaned down slightly.

“You don’t gotta give up every damn thing just to keep peace.”

The words hit harder than he realized.

Because deep down?

That was exactly what Malia had spent years doing.

Giving things up quietly. Staying silent quietly. Hurting quietly.

Just to avoid conflict.

Before the moment could settle—

Gia suddenly sighed dramatically again.

“Well since we’re apparently doing everything together now,” she said loudly, “we should just share doctor appointments too.”

Malia blinked slowly.

Johnathan frowned immediately.

“What?”

Gia shrugged carelessly.

“We already go to the same OB anyway.”

Montez instantly looked irritated again.

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Gia glared.

“Why not?”

“Because I refuse to spend four hours listening to you compare pregnancies like it’s the damn Olympics.”

Gia scoffed loudly.

“I’m just trying to bond!”

“No you not.”

“Yes I am!”

“No,” Montez replied flatly. “You trying to compete.”

The tension exploded again instantly.

Gia looked furious.

“You think everything I do is malicious!”

“Because most of it is!”

“I cannot believe you!”

“You stole your sister’s damn mobile five minutes ago!”

“It was cute!”

“YOU GOT TEN OF THEM!”

People in the store openly stared now.

Johnathan rubbed his forehead tiredly.

“Can y’all not do this here?”

Gia suddenly grabbed her stomach dramatically.

“Oh my God…”

Montez froze.

Then immediately looked irritated instead of concerned.

“No.”

Gia inhaled sharply.

“Oh my God, something’s wrong—”

Montez pointed instantly.

“Don’t start this shit again.”

“I’m serious!”

“You said that three times already today!”

Gia let out another loud gasp.

Everyone rushed toward her immediately anyway.

“Gia?!” “What happened?!” “Sit down!” “Get water!” “Call somebody!”

The chaos erupted instantly.

Again.

Always fucking again.

And in the middle of all that noise—

Nobody noticed Malia stepping away quietly.

Her vision had started blurring.

Her chest tightened painfully beneath her ribs.

Too much noise. Too much stress. Too much standing.

She suddenly felt horribly hot.

Malia slowly lowered herself onto a nearby bench area near the fitting rooms.

The oxygen machine hummed softly beside her.

She tried breathing slowly.

In. Out. In—

Her hearing started fading.

Voices blurred together.

Gia’s dramatic crying echoed somewhere in the background.

Johnathan’s voice. Montez yelling. People panicking.

But none of it sounded clear anymore.

Malia pressed a shaky hand against her chest.

Everything hurt.

Her breathing became thinner. Weaker.

Her eyes fluttered slightly.

And while the entire family focused on Gia yet again—

Malia quietly slumped sideways against the bench.

Then passed out completely.

The luxury baby store had completely dissolved into chaos.

Gia was still carrying on dramatically in the center of the aisle while employees rushed around nervously with water bottles and chairs nobody asked for.

“I can’t breathe!” “My stomach hurts!” “Why is nobody helping me?!”

Montez looked two seconds away from losing his damn mind.

“Gianna, if you scream one more damn—”

Then suddenly—

Johnathan glanced toward the bench area.

And froze.

His entire body went cold instantly.

“Malia?”

No response.

Johnathan’s eyes widened violently.

“MALIA.”

Everything around him disappeared.

The noise. The arguing. The people.

All he saw was his wife slumped sideways against the bench unnaturally still, her oxygen tubing slightly crooked against her cheek.

The color drained from his face immediately.

“Oh fuck.”

He rushed toward her so fast he nearly knocked over a display shelf.

“Malia!”

Her body didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Nothing.

Fear hit him so hard it almost made him sick.

Johnathan dropped to his knees in front of her instantly, hands shaking as he touched her face gently.

“Malia, baby—”

Still nothing.

Her breathing was shallow.

Too shallow.

Johnathan’s panic exploded immediately.

“MALIA.”

Around them, the family finally noticed.

“Oh my God—” “She passed out!” “Call emergency services!” “Move!”

Gia’s dramatic act immediately got overshadowed.

And for once…

Nobody was looking at her anymore.

Montez turned sharply toward the scene.

The second he saw Malia unconscious—

His expression changed completely.

Cold. Deadly. Focused.

Unlike the others, Montez didn’t panic outwardly.

But internally?

Rage exploded inside him.

Because he knew exactly why this happened.

Stress. Overexertion. Constant emotional exhaustion.

All while everybody kept revolving around Gia’s bullshit.

Montez walked over quickly.

Johnathan was already checking Malia frantically.

“Baby, wake up…come on…please…”

His voice cracked badly near the end.

That terrified everybody.

Because Johnathan Westlend almost never sounded afraid.

Montez crouched beside them.

“She breathing?”

“Barely.”

“Fuck.”

Malia remained limp in Johnathan’s arms, completely unconscious now, her head resting against his shoulder weakly.

And somehow…

She looked peaceful.

Like her body had simply shut down to escape everything around her.

Johnathan looked devastated.

“What the fuck happened?!”

Montez gave him a hard look.

“She’s exhausted.”

The statement carried deeper meaning than anybody wanted to acknowledge.

Behind them, Gia suddenly spoke weakly:

“My stomach still hurts…”

Montez stood immediately.

“Rafael,” he barked sharply. “Get the damn cars ready.”

Everything moved instantly after that.

Security swarmed the area. Employees panicked. Family members shouted over each other.

Montez pointed toward Johnathan.

“You go with Malia.”

Johnathan looked up sharply.

“What about Gia?”

Montez’s jaw tightened.

“I said I’ll handle my wife.”

The wording hit differently this time.

My wife.

Not yours to manage. Not yours to rescue. Not yours to prioritize.

Johnathan looked back down at Malia unconscious in his arms.

And suddenly…

Guilt slammed into him so hard he could barely breathe himself.

Because while Gia screamed dramatically for attention…

Malia had literally collapsed quietly in the background.

Again.

Montez motioned toward the exit sharply.

“Move.”

Johnathan didn’t waste another second.

He carefully lifted Malia fully into his arms and rushed out of the store with the family surrounding them.

Her long hair spilled down his arm like silk. One hand rested weakly against her stomach. The oxygen tubing shifted softly as she breathed faintly.

Too faintly.

Johnathan’s heart pounded harder with every second.

“Baby, wake up…”

Nothing.

No response.

The sight alone terrified him.

Because Malia always responded.

Even quietly. Even weakly.

She always answered him.

Now she just laid there completely still.

Outside the mall, security hurriedly opened the limo doors while paparazzi across the street immediately started taking pictures.

“What happened?!” “Is Mrs. Westlend okay?!” “Is someone in labor?!”

“MOVE THE FUCK BACK!” Damien roared instantly.

Security shoved the crowd away aggressively while Johnathan climbed into the limo carefully holding Malia against his chest protectively.

Montez climbed into another vehicle with Gia, who immediately started complaining again.

“I think something’s seriously wrong with me—”

Montez looked at her blankly.

“Girl, read the damn room.”

The door slammed shut.

Inside Johnathan’s limo, silence settled heavily.

The only sounds were the engine and Malia’s faint breathing.

Johnathan sat frozen beside her.

Still holding her.

Still staring at her face in complete disbelief.

She looked exhausted even unconscious.

Dark circles beneath her eyes. Lips pale. Body limp against him.

Johnathan’s chest tightened painfully.

“How the fuck did I miss this…”

Nobody answered him.

Because honestly?

Everybody knew.

Malia had been quietly deteriorating for a while now.

And somehow nobody fully stopped long enough to see how bad it had gotten.

Johnathan brushed shaky fingers through her hair carefully.

“Malia…”

No response.

His throat tightened hard.

For the first time in years…

He genuinely looked terrified.

Not stressed. Not frustrated.

Terrified.

Because suddenly all he could think about was every single moment he dismissed her exhaustion.

Every: “I’m okay.” “It’s fine.” “Don’t worry about me.”

Every moment he let Gia pull his attention away. Every time he assumed Malia would understand. Every damn time he left her emotionally standing alone.

And now she was unconscious in his arms.

Montez’s earlier words replayed in his head violently:

Go get your fucking wife.

Johnathan shut his eyes briefly.

“Fuck…”

Across from him, Evelyn Chensworth dabbed at tears nervously.

“She’s always been too quiet when she’s hurting…”

Damien looked out the window darkly.

“Yeah. That’s kinda the damn problem.”

Nobody argued.

Because they all knew it was true.

Malia suffered silently.

Always had.

And people got too comfortable with that silence.

Meanwhile—

Deep inside her unconscious mind—

Malia felt nothing.

No noise. No arguing. No Gia. No pressure.

Just quiet darkness.

Peaceful.

For the first time in a long time…

Nobody needed anything from her there.

No expectations. No competition. No pretending everything was okay.

Just silence.

And honestly?

Some small broken part of her didn’t want to wake up yet.

The first thing Malia heard was noise.

Loud. Sharp. Annoying.

Somebody complaining.

“…I said I don’t WANT the strawberry gelatin, I want the lemon one—”

A nurse sounded exhausted.

“Mrs. Westlend, please lower your voice—”

“I AM lowering my voice!”

Malia’s brows twitched faintly.

God.

Even half unconscious…

She knew that voice.

Gia.

Of course.

Malia slowly opened her eyes.

The hospital room lights were dimmed low, soft afternoon sunlight slipping through the large windows beside the bed. Machines beeped steadily around her while oxygen flowed softly beneath her nose again.

Everything felt heavy.

Her body. Her chest. Her stomach.

Especially her stomach.

Malia inhaled weakly.

Pain immediately spread through her ribs.

The sound made someone jerk upright beside the bed instantly.

“Malia?”

Johnathan.

His voice sounded wrecked.

Malia slowly turned her head.

And nearly startled.

Johnathan looked horrible.

Not physically hurt.

But exhausted.

His eyes were bloodshot. Dark circles sat beneath them heavily. His hair was messy like he’d been dragging his hands through it nonstop.

He looked like he hadn’t properly slept in days.

The second he realized she was awake—

Relief completely shattered across his face.

“Oh thank God…”

Before Malia could even speak, Johnathan immediately leaned over and pulled her carefully against him.

“Malia…”

His arms wrapped around her almost desperately.

Like he needed physical proof she was alive.

“You scared the fuck outta me.”

Malia blinked slowly against his chest.

Everything still felt foggy.

Her voice came out weak.

“…what happened?”

Johnathan pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You passed out at the mall.”

Malia frowned faintly.

“The mall…”

“You were unconscious for two days.”

Silence.

Malia stared at him.

Two days?

Johnathan rubbed a shaky hand over his face.

“You just…wouldn’t wake up.”

Something in his voice cracked badly again.

That was what finally broke her.

Malia’s face crumpled instantly.

Then suddenly—

She started crying.

Not loud dramatic crying.

Not screaming.

Just quiet, painful tears spilling endlessly down her cheeks.

Johnathan’s panic immediately returned.

“Baby—”

Malia covered part of her face weakly.

Everything hurt emotionally now.

The exhaustion. The pressure. The constant chaos. Her body failing her. The baby. The families.

Everything.

Johnathan held her face gently.

“Malia, hey…hey…”

She shook her head while crying harder.

“I’m tired…”

The sentence destroyed him.

Not physically tired.

Life tired.

Johnathan could hear it immediately.

“Malia…”

“I just wanted quiet for one second…”

Her voice trembled painfully.

“One second…”

Johnathan swallowed hard.

Guilt hit him so violently it made his stomach twist.

Because he knew.

He fucking knew.

His wife had been drowning quietly right in front of him.

And somehow he kept letting other people pull his attention away from her.

The noise outside interrupted again.

Gia yelling somewhere down the hall.

“WHY IS EVERYBODY TREATING ME LIKE THE VILLAIN?!”

Montez’s deep voice immediately followed.

“Because you act like one.”

“I AM PREGNANT TOO!”

“And somehow she still ended up unconscious instead of you!”

A loud crash echoed.

Probably Gia throwing something.

Malia shut her eyes tiredly.

Even here.

Even in the hospital.

Still chaos.

Johnathan noticed immediately.

His jaw tightened.

“I’ll tell security to remove them.”

Malia shook her head weakly.

“No…”

“Baby—”

“I don’t wanna hear arguing…”

Johnathan immediately softened again.

“Aight.”

He gently wiped tears from her face with his thumb.

Then quieter—

“You gotta stop scaring me like this.”

Malia looked away softly.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know.”

And somehow that made it worse.

Because Malia never meant to hurt anybody.

She just kept silently hurting herself instead.

A knock came at the door.

Then a doctor entered alongside a nurse carrying a clipboard.

Dr. Elaine Harper.

Their OB doctor.

Her expression immediately softened seeing Malia awake.

“Well finally.”

Malia managed a weak little smile.

The doctor walked closer.

“You gave us a scare, sweetheart.”

Johnathan straightened beside the bed instantly.

“How bad is it?”

The doctor sighed carefully.

“Malia’s body is under extreme stress right now.”

Malia lowered her eyes.

“We’ve stabilized her oxygen levels,” the doctor continued gently, “but with her chest condition and how far along she is, we really don’t want to risk waiting much longer.”

Johnathan’s expression darkened immediately.

“What are you saying?”

The doctor looked directly at Malia.

“I think we need to schedule the C-section as soon as possible.”

Silence filled the room instantly.

Malia’s hand slowly moved over her stomach protectively.

The baby shifted beneath her touch.

Johnathan immediately grabbed her other hand.

“Is the baby okay?”

“Yes,” the doctor reassured quickly. “Baby’s heartbeat is strong.”

Johnathan exhaled shakily.

“But,” the doctor continued carefully, “Malia’s body is struggling now. If we continue waiting naturally, there’s a risk her heart and lungs won’t tolerate labor well.”

Malia’s breathing hitched softly.

Fear crept into her eyes instantly.

Johnathan squeezed her hand tighter.

“Hey.”

She looked at him.

“You hear me?” he said softly. “You not doing this alone.”

The nurse stepped forward carefully holding paperwork.

“These are the surgical consent forms.”

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

Too serious.

Malia stared at the clipboard for a long moment.

C-section.

Surgery.

Birth.

Everything suddenly became real all at once.

Her eyes immediately filled with tears again.

Johnathan’s face softened painfully.

“Baby…”

Malia looked toward him slowly.

Then quietly—

She nodded toward the papers.

Giving him permission to sign.

Johnathan froze for half a second.

Because somehow…

That small nod carried so much trust behind it.

Trusting him with her body. Her safety. Their baby.

Even after everything.

Johnathan took the clipboard slowly.

His hand actually shook while signing.

The nurse quietly left afterward while the doctor explained surgery details softly in the background.

But Johnathan barely heard any of it.

Because the entire time…

He kept staring at Malia.

At how small she suddenly looked in that hospital bed. How exhausted her eyes were. How she kept rubbing her belly like she was apologizing to the baby silently.

And for the first time in years…

Johnathan felt truly terrified of losing her.

The first thing Malia heard was noise.

Loud. Sharp. Annoying.

Somebody complaining.

“…I said I don’t WANT the strawberry gelatin, I want the lemon one—”

A nurse sounded exhausted.

“Mrs. Westlend, please lower your voice—”

“I AM lowering my voice!”

Malia’s brows twitched faintly.

God.

Even half unconscious…

She knew that voice.

Gia.

Of course.

Malia slowly opened her eyes.

The hospital room lights were dimmed low, soft afternoon sunlight slipping through the large windows beside the bed. Machines beeped steadily around her while oxygen flowed softly beneath her nose again.

Everything felt heavy.

Her body. Her chest. Her stomach.

Especially her stomach.

Malia inhaled weakly.

Pain immediately spread through her ribs.

The sound made someone jerk upright beside the bed instantly.

“Malia?”

Johnathan.

His voice sounded wrecked.

Malia slowly turned her head.

And nearly startled.

Johnathan looked horrible.

Not physically hurt.

But exhausted.

His eyes were bloodshot. Dark circles sat beneath them heavily. His hair was messy like he’d been dragging his hands through it nonstop.

He looked like he hadn’t properly slept in days.

The second he realized she was awake—

Relief completely shattered across his face.

“Oh thank God…”

Before Malia could even speak, Johnathan immediately leaned over and pulled her carefully against him.

“Malia…”

His arms wrapped around her almost desperately.

Like he needed physical proof she was alive.

“You scared the fuck outta me.”

Malia blinked slowly against his chest.

Everything still felt foggy.

Her voice came out weak.

“…what happened?”

Johnathan pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You passed out at the mall.”

Malia frowned faintly.

“The mall…”

“You were unconscious for two days.”

Silence.

Malia stared at him.

Two days?

Johnathan rubbed a shaky hand over his face.

“You just…wouldn’t wake up.”

Something in his voice cracked badly again.

That was what finally broke her.

Malia’s face crumpled instantly.

Then suddenly—

She started crying.

Not loud dramatic crying.

Not screaming.

Just quiet, painful tears spilling endlessly down her cheeks.

Johnathan’s panic immediately returned.

“Baby—”

Malia covered part of her face weakly.

Everything hurt emotionally now.

The exhaustion. The pressure. The constant chaos. Her body failing her. The baby. The families.

Everything.

Johnathan held her face gently.

“Malia, hey…hey…”

She shook her head while crying harder.

“I’m tired…”

The sentence destroyed him.

Not physically tired.

Life tired.

Johnathan could hear it immediately.

“Malia…”

“I just wanted quiet for one second…”

Her voice trembled painfully.

“One second…”

Johnathan swallowed hard.

Guilt hit him so violently it made his stomach twist.

Because he knew.

He fucking knew.

His wife had been drowning quietly right in front of him.

And somehow he kept letting other people pull his attention away from her.

The noise outside interrupted again.

Gia yelling somewhere down the hall.

“WHY IS EVERYBODY TREATING ME LIKE THE VILLAIN?!”

Montez’s deep voice immediately followed.

“Because you act like one.”

“I AM PREGNANT TOO!”

“And somehow she still ended up unconscious instead of you!”

A loud crash echoed.

Probably Gia throwing something.

Malia shut her eyes tiredly.

Even here.

Even in the hospital.

Still chaos.

Johnathan noticed immediately.

His jaw tightened.

“I’ll tell security to remove them.”

Malia shook her head weakly.

“No…”

“Baby—”

“I don’t wanna hear arguing…”

Johnathan immediately softened again.

“Aight.”

He gently wiped tears from her face with his thumb.

Then quieter—

“You gotta stop scaring me like this.”

Malia looked away softly.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know.”

And somehow that made it worse.

Because Malia never meant to hurt anybody.

She just kept silently hurting herself instead.

A knock came at the door.

Then a doctor entered alongside a nurse carrying a clipboard.

Dr. Elaine Harper.

Their OB doctor.

Her expression immediately softened seeing Malia awake.

“Well finally.”

Malia managed a weak little smile.

The doctor walked closer.

“You gave us a scare, sweetheart.”

Johnathan straightened beside the bed instantly.

“How bad is it?”

The doctor sighed carefully.

“Malia’s body is under extreme stress right now.”

Malia lowered her eyes.

“We’ve stabilized her oxygen levels,” the doctor continued gently, “but with her chest condition and how far along she is, we really don’t want to risk waiting much longer.”

Johnathan’s expression darkened immediately.

“What are you saying?”

The doctor looked directly at Malia.

“I think we need to schedule the C-section as soon as possible.”

Silence filled the room instantly.

Malia’s hand slowly moved over her stomach protectively.

The baby shifted beneath her touch.

Johnathan immediately grabbed her other hand.

“Is the baby okay?”

“Yes,” the doctor reassured quickly. “Baby’s heartbeat is strong.”

Johnathan exhaled shakily.

“But,” the doctor continued carefully, “Malia’s body is struggling now. If we continue waiting naturally, there’s a risk her heart and lungs won’t tolerate labor well.”

Malia’s breathing hitched softly.

Fear crept into her eyes instantly.

Johnathan squeezed her hand tighter.

“Hey.”

She looked at him.

“You hear me?” he said softly. “You not doing this alone.”

The nurse stepped forward carefully holding paperwork.

“These are the surgical consent forms.”

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

Too serious.

Malia stared at the clipboard for a long moment.

C-section.

Surgery.

Birth.

Everything suddenly became real all at once.

Her eyes immediately filled with tears again.

Johnathan’s face softened painfully.

“Baby…”

Malia looked toward him slowly.

Then quietly—

She nodded toward the papers.

Giving him permission to sign.

Johnathan froze for half a second.

Because somehow…

That small nod carried so much trust behind it.

Trusting him with her body. Her safety. Their baby.

Even after everything.

Johnathan took the clipboard slowly.

His hand actually shook while signing.

The nurse quietly left afterward while the doctor explained surgery details softly in the background.

But Johnathan barely heard any of it.

Because the entire time…

He kept staring at Malia.

At how small she suddenly looked in that hospital bed. How exhausted her eyes were. How she kept rubbing her belly like she was apologizing to the baby silently.

And for the first time in years…

Johnathan felt truly terrified of losing her.

The hospital hallways were quieter at night.

Not silent.

Never silent.

Machines beeped faintly in nearby rooms. Nurses walked briskly past with charts and medicine trays. Distant voices echoed from the maternity wing.

But compared to the chaos of the Westlend family?

It felt peaceful.

Johnathan stepped out of Malia’s hospital room slowly, gently closing the door behind him.

For a moment he just stood there.

Still.

Emotionally numb.

His hand stayed on the doorknob longer than necessary while he stared blankly at the floor.

Two days.

Malia had been unconscious for two fucking days.

And he still couldn’t fully process it.

Every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing her collapsed against that mall bench.

Limp. Silent. Too still.

Johnathan exhaled shakily and dragged both hands over his face.

“Fuck…”

His chest still felt tight.

Not panic anymore.

Something worse.

Guilt.

The kind that crawled under your skin and stayed there.

Eventually he forced himself to move, walking down the hallway toward the private hospital lounge area.

The Westlends practically owned half the damn hospital, so naturally they had access to the executive family suites and lounges.

Johnathan stopped at the coffee station and grabbed two drinks automatically.

One black coffee for himself.

One warm vanilla tea for Malia.

Because even unconscious…

He still thought about what she liked first.

That realization almost hurt.

As he stood there waiting quietly, a deep familiar voice spoke behind him.

“She awake?”

Montez.

Johnathan glanced back.

His older brother looked exhausted too.

Dark dress shirt sleeves rolled up. Tie loosened. Expression permanently irritated.

But underneath all that?

Montez looked worried.

Johnathan nodded once.

“Yeah.”

Montez visibly relaxed slightly.

“How she doing?”

Johnathan leaned heavily against the counter.

“She cried.”

That answer alone said everything.

Montez went quiet.

Because Malia almost never cried openly.

Not in front of people.

Not even when she was hurting badly.

Johnathan laughed bitterly under his breath.

“She woke up apologizing.”

Montez’s face hardened instantly.

“Of course she did.”

Johnathan shook his head slowly.

“She kept saying she was tired.”

“That girl been tired for years.”

The statement sat heavily between them.

A nurse passed nearby pushing equipment while the brothers stood in silence for a moment.

Then Johnathan finally asked:

“What about Gia?”

Montez immediately looked annoyed again.

“False fucking alarm.”

Johnathan sighed.

“Seriously?”

Montez nodded once.

“Heartburn. Gas. Drama. Pick one.”

Despite himself, Johnathan snorted tiredly.

Montez rubbed his forehead.

“She damn near had three nurses crying just for the doctor to tell her ass she ate too much spicy seafood.”

Johnathan muttered:

“That sounds about right.”

Montez looked completely drained now.

“I swear to God, John… I walked into that hospital room ready for bad news, and this woman talking about her ‘energy feeling off.’”

Johnathan laughed weakly despite everything.

Then the laughter faded quickly.

Because suddenly all he could think about was Malia unconscious again.

Montez noticed instantly.

His expression shifted slightly.

“You almost lost her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Johnathan looked down at the coffee cup in his hands.

“…yeah.”

The word came out rough.

For the first time since the mall…

He actually admitted it aloud.

Montez leaned against the wall beside him quietly.

“I’ve never seen you look scared before.”

Johnathan swallowed hard.

“I was terrified.”

His voice cracked again slightly.

Montez stayed quiet.

Johnathan stared ahead blankly.

“She was just laying there, Montez.”

His grip tightened around the cup.

“She wouldn’t wake up. Doctors rushing around. Machines going off. Everybody yelling…”

He laughed bitterly again.

“And all I could think about was every single time she told me she was fine when she fucking wasn’t.”

Montez looked away briefly.

Because honestly?

He’d been thinking the same thing.

Johnathan rubbed his jaw hard.

“I kept leaving her standing alone.”

“No,” Montez corrected flatly. “You kept assuming she’d wait for you emotionally while everybody else took pieces outta her.”

That hit harder than a punch.

Johnathan shut his eyes briefly.

“…damn.”

Montez crossed his arms.

“Malia don’t complain enough for people to realize when she reaching her limit.”

Johnathan nodded slowly.

“I know.”

“No,” Montez replied more sharply this time. “I don’t think you did.”

Silence.

Heavy silence.

Then quieter—

“You know what the fucked up part is?”

Johnathan looked over.

Montez stared ahead coldly.

“She still trusts you.”

Johnathan froze slightly.

Montez laughed once under his breath.

“That girl woke up scared and still nodded for YOU to sign those surgery papers.”

Johnathan looked down instantly.

His chest tightened again.

Because Montez was right.

After everything…

Malia still trusted him completely.

Montez suddenly looked irritated again.

“You better not fuck this up.”

Johnathan glanced up.

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

Montez’s tone deepened.

“You got a wife that genuinely loves your ass. That’s rare in families like ours.”

Johnathan frowned slightly.

“You talking about Gia?”

Montez looked dead inside immediately.

“Who else the fuck would I be talking about?”

Johnathan almost laughed again.

Almost.

Montez shoved his hands into his pockets roughly.

“At this point I don’t even know what my marriage is anymore.”

The statement surprised Johnathan.

Because Montez almost never opened up emotionally.

Ever.

“You regret marrying her?” Johnathan asked carefully.

Montez went silent for a long moment.

Then finally—

“…yeah.”

No hesitation.

No pretending.

Just honesty.

Johnathan looked stunned.

Montez exhaled slowly.

“I thought maybe she’d mature eventually. Thought maybe becoming a wife, becoming a mother…maybe something would change.”

He laughed humorlessly.

“Instead it got worse.”

Johnathan leaned against the counter quietly listening.

Montez looked exhausted now.

“She competes with Malia constantly and Malia don’t even be competing back.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Johnathan muttered.

Montez scoffed.

“Gia’s been jealous since childhood.”

Johnathan frowned slightly.

“Jealous of what?”

That actually made Montez laugh.

“You serious?”

“Yes.”

Montez stared at him like he was slow.

“John… Malia got the one thing Gia never managed to keep.”

“What?”

“Peace.”

The word hung heavily.

Montez looked toward Malia’s hospital room direction.

“Your wife don’t need attention every damn second to feel important.”

Johnathan went quiet.

“She’s soft,” Montez continued. “Real soft. The kind of woman people either protect…or destroy.”

Johnathan’s stomach twisted painfully.

Because lately?

It felt like everybody—including him—had slowly been destroying her without realizing it.

Montez pushed off the wall finally.

“Anyway,” he muttered, “I’m going back before Gia accuses the nurses of conspiracy again.”

Johnathan snorted weakly.

Montez started walking off.

Then stopped.

Without turning around, he said one last thing quietly:

“If Malia disappears emotionally for real one day… don’t act surprised.”

Johnathan’s entire body stilled.

Montez walked away after that.

Leaving Johnathan standing alone in the hallway.

Still holding Malia’s tea.

And suddenly realizing something horrifying.

His brother might’ve been right.

Montez already had a headache before he even reached Gia’s hospital room.

The private maternity hallway was calm for once.

Too calm.

Which usually meant Gianna was about to destroy the peace somehow.

A few exhausted nurses walked past him looking emotionally defeated already. One of them visibly relaxed when she saw Montez approaching.

“Mr. Westlend,” the nurse said carefully, “your wife has been…upset.”

Montez kept walking.

“She alive?”

“…yes.”

“She bleeding?”

“No.”

“Then she fine.”

The nurse blinked awkwardly.

Montez continued toward the room carrying two drinks in one massive hand: An iced coffee for himself. A stupidly expensive fruit smoothie Gia had demanded twenty minutes ago.

Before he even opened the door—

He heard yelling.

“I SAID I DON’T WANT THOSE PILLOWS!”

A nurse sounded strained.

“Mrs. Westlend, those are the only maternity support cushions available right now—”

“Well they’re ugly!”

Montez shut his eyes briefly.

“Lord give me strength…”

Then he opened the door.

Chaos.

Gia stood near the hospital bed wearing a silk maternity robe while angrily pointing at three nurses like a rich dictator about to fire an entire kingdom.

Flowers covered every available surface in the room. Designer bags littered the couch. A television played quietly in the background.

And Gia herself looked perfectly healthy.

Montez instantly looked annoyed.

“What the fuck is going on now?”

All three nurses visibly looked relieved seeing him.

Gia whipped around dramatically.

“There you are!”

Montez walked further inside slowly.

“You screaming loud enough for the whole damn hospital to hear you.”

Gia crossed her arms.

“Because nobody in this place listens!”

One nurse looked deeply offended.

“We have done everything you requested, Mrs. Westlend.”

Gia pointed dramatically at the pillows.

“Those are hideous.”

Montez stared blankly.

“…you terrorizing medical staff over pillows?”

“They’re making me uncomfortable!”

“You know what making ME uncomfortable?” Montez snapped. “The fact I can hear your ass yelling from two hallways away.”

Gia rolled her eyes.

“You’re being dramatic.”

Montez almost laughed.

“ME?”

He handed her smoothie over roughly.

“Here. Drink this and stop cussing people out.”

Gia snatched it instantly.

“I don’t even want this anymore.”

Montez looked toward the ceiling slowly.

“God testing me today…”

One of the nurses quietly slipped out while she had the chance.

Smart woman.

Gia sat down dramatically on the edge of the hospital bed.

“I still think something’s wrong.”

Montez grabbed his coffee calmly.

“The doctor literally told you nothing wrong.”

“Well I don’t FEEL right.”

“You pregnant.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Montez took a slow sip.

Then noticed something immediately.

“Where your monitor?”

Gia blinked.

“What?”

“The fetal monitor.”

Gia looked away for half a second too long.

Montez narrowed his eyes instantly.

“…Gianna.”

She looked defensive immediately.

“I took it off!”

Montez stared at her in disbelief.

“You did WHAT?”

“It was irritating my stomach!”

“SO YOU REMOVED MEDICAL EQUIPMENT?!”

Gia stood right back up angrily.

“Oh my God stop yelling at me!”

“I SHOULD yell at you!”

“You’re always mean to me lately!”

Montez laughed harshly.

“Because you act fucking ridiculous lately!”

Gia’s face twisted emotionally.

“I just wanted Johnathan to stay with me…”

There it was.

Montez went completely still.

The room suddenly felt colder.

“Excuse me?”

Gia folded her arms tightly.

“He actually pays attention to people!”

Montez stared at her hard.

“You wanted my brother sitting in here while HIS wife was unconscious?”

Gia immediately got defensive.

“Well she woke up already!”

Montez stepped closer slowly.

Dangerously slowly.

“And?”

Gia’s confidence visibly started shrinking now.

“Montez—”

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “Say that shit again.”

Gia swallowed.

Montez’s voice deepened low enough to make the room feel heavy.

“My brother’s wife collapsed while carrying his child and your selfish ass worried about attention.”

Gia stepped back slightly.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Yes the fuck you did.”

His voice thundered now.

“And let me make something real clear to you, Gianna.”

Gia visibly flinched.

“When you married me, you stopped looking at Johnathan for emotional validation. I am your husband.”

The room fell dead silent.

Even the machines seemed quieter.

Gia’s breathing quickened slightly now.

Montez almost never raised his voice directly at her like this.

Not truly.

And honestly?

It scared the hell out of her.

Montez pointed toward the hallway sharply.

“That man sitting beside his wife right now terrified she might die during surgery while you in here acting like a spoiled damn child over pillows and attention.”

Gia’s eyes watered instantly.

“You hate me…”

Montez laughed coldly.

“No. I’m tired.”

Gia opened her mouth again—

Then suddenly froze.

Her expression shifted completely.

Montez immediately noticed.

“What?”

Gia grabbed the edge of the bed.

“…Montez…”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What now?”

Then he heard it.

A soft drip.

Both of them looked down simultaneously.

Clear fluid spread slowly onto the hospital floor beneath Gia.

Silence.

Gia’s eyes widened violently.

“…oh my God.”

Montez blinked once.

Then muttered:

“…ain’t this some shit.”

Gia panicked instantly.

“MONTEZ!”

Her water continued rushing suddenly.

“I THINK THE BABY’S COMING!”

Montez immediately snapped into action.

All annoyance vanished instantly.

“Sit your ass down.”

Gia started crying immediately.

“IT HURTS!”

“Because your water broke!”

“OH MY GOD!”

Montez slammed the emergency call button hard.

“NURSE!”

Everything exploded into motion instantly.

Nurses rushed inside. Machines beeped louder. Doctors began shouting instructions.

Gia cried dramatically while clutching her stomach.

Montez moved quickly toward her, holding her steady before she could panic herself into falling.

“Look at me.”

Gia cried harder.

“Montez—”

“LOOK at me.”

She did instantly.

His tone was commanding now. Sharp. Controlled.

“You breathe and stop screaming long enough to listen.”

Gia nodded shakily.

Montez turned toward the nurses immediately.

“She was full term. Water just broke.”

“How long ago?”

“Thirty seconds.”

A doctor rushed in quickly.

“We need monitors now.”

Gia whimpered loudly.

“I don’t wanna do this…”

Montez sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead once.

Then quieter—

“Well…too damn late now.”

Gia’s labor became a complete fucking disaster almost immediately.

The entire maternity wing sounded like a warzone.

Nurses rushed in and out of her room carrying equipment while Gia screamed loud enough to wake half the hospital.

“IT HURTS!” “WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE THIS?!” “MONTEZ DO SOMETHING!”

Montez stood near the wall looking emotionally exhausted already.

“You are literally in labor, Gianna.”

“WELL MAKE IT STOP!”

“I can’t stop childbirth!”

Gia gripped the hospital rails dramatically.

“I DON’T WANNA PUSH!”

A nurse tried remaining professional.

“Mrs. Westlend, your contractions are progressing normally—”

“NORMAL?!” Gia looked horrified. “THIS IS NORMAL?!”

Another contraction slammed into her.

Gia screamed so loudly someone outside dropped a tray.

Montez shut his eyes briefly.

“Jesus Christ…”

The doctor checked the monitors calmly despite the chaos.

“She’s progressing quickly.”

Gia immediately pointed at the doctor accusingly.

“DON’T SAY THAT LIKE IT’S GOOD NEWS!”

Another contraction hit.

Gia started cussing everybody out all over again.

“AHH—FUCK! I HATE THIS!” “WHY DID NOBODY WARN ME?!” “MONTEZ THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

Montez blinked slowly.

“…my fault?”

“YOU GOT ME PREGNANT!”

Montez looked toward the ceiling.

“Lord…”

Outside in the hallway—

Johnathan immediately heard the screaming from Malia’s room next door.

At first he ignored it.

Until—

“JOHNATHAN!”

His body froze.

Again—

“JOHNATHANNNN!”

Malia looked up weakly from the hospital bed as nurses adjusted her IV carefully.

Johnathan hesitated.

The screaming continued.

“WHERE IS HE?!” “JOHNATHAN!”

Malia lowered her eyes quietly.

That tiny movement alone made Johnathan’s stomach twist.

One nurse spoke gently.

“Sir, we’re preparing your wife for surgery.”

Johnathan looked torn for half a second.

Then finally muttered:

“…I’ll be right back.”

And walked out.

The second he entered Gia’s room—

Montez looked ready to commit murder.

The older brother stared at Johnathan in disbelief.

“You serious right now?”

Gia instantly reached toward Johnathan dramatically.

“There you are!”

Johnathan looked overwhelmed immediately.

“What’s happening?”

“I’M DYING!”

“The fuck you are,” Montez muttered.

Gia glared at him through tears.

“STOP BEING MEAN TO ME!”

Another contraction hit hard.

Gia screamed loudly and grabbed Johnathan’s arm instantly.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!”

Johnathan looked deeply uncomfortable now.

“Gia—”

Montez stepped forward sharply.

“John.”

His tone was cold now.

“Go back to your wife.”

Gia immediately snapped:

“NO!”

The room went quiet.

Gia looked genuinely panicked.

“Please don’t leave…”

Montez stared at her slowly.

And suddenly?

Something in him just looked…done.

Completely done.

“Gianna,” he said flatly, “your sister is about to be cut open in surgery.”

Gia cried harder immediately.

“And I’m in labor!”

“And I’m your husband.”

The statement hit the room hard.

Gia’s face twisted emotionally.

“But he calms me down!”

Montez laughed once.

Not amused.

Not warm.

Just tired.

“Tough shit.”

Johnathan rubbed his face stressed.

“Gia, relax—”

“DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX!”

Another contraction ripped through her.

Gia screamed and nearly doubled over.

Nurses rushed around quickly adjusting monitors.

Montez stared at the scene for a long moment.

Then finally groaned deeply and dragged a hand down his face.

“You know what?” he muttered tiredly. “Do whatever the fuck y’all want.”

“Montez—”

“No.”

His voice deepened sharply.

“I’m done arguing tonight.”

And before anyone could stop him—

Montez turned and walked out.

The hallway suddenly felt strangely quiet compared to Gia’s room.

Montez exhaled heavily once.

Then headed next door.

Toward Malia.

Inside her hospital room—

The atmosphere was completely different.

Quiet.

Soft.

Tense in a painful way.

Machines beeped steadily while nurses prepared surgical equipment nearby. Malia laid against the hospital bed weakly, one hand resting protectively over her stomach while contractions rolled through her body silently.

Unlike Gia…

Malia barely made noise.

Even hurting.

Her breathing simply trembled faintly every time another contraction hit.

The oxygen tubing rested beneath her nose while tears quietly gathered at the corners of her eyes from pain and exhaustion.

The second Montez entered—

Malia looked toward the door automatically.

For a moment…

Hope flickered across her face.

Then faded slightly.

“…where’s Johnathan?”

The question came out soft.

Too soft.

Montez’s jaw tightened instantly.

He hated that damn look on her face.

That quiet disappointment she always tried hiding.

“He with Gia.”

Silence.

Malia lowered her eyes slowly.

Then sighed softly.

Not angry.

Not shocked.

Just…tired.

Again.

Montez felt something ugly twist in his chest.

Because she expected this now.

Expected to come second.

A contraction hit suddenly.

Malia’s fingers gripped the blanket weakly while her breathing stuttered.

Montez moved instantly toward the bed.

“You okay?”

Malia nodded faintly despite obvious pain.

“Mhm.”

“Bullshit.”

He pulled a chair beside her bed and sat down heavily.

A nurse glanced over nervously.

“Sir, we’re preparing her for surgery now.”

Montez nodded once.

“I know.”

Malia stared quietly at the ceiling while another contraction rolled through her body.

Tears slid silently down the side of her face.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just quiet suffering.

Montez grabbed a clean cloth nearby and gently wiped her forehead.

His large hand moved surprisingly carefully.

“You shouldn’t be in here alone.”

Malia looked toward him weakly.

“I’m not alone.”

That somehow made it worse.

Because she sounded grateful for scraps again.

Montez looked away briefly.

From next door, Gia screamed again:

“JOHNATHAN!”

The sound echoed through the wall.

Malia shut her eyes.

Montez immediately noticed.

His expression darkened dangerously.

“You want me to drag his ass back in here?”

Malia shook her head softly.

“No…”

“You sure?”

Malia nodded once.

Another contraction hit.

Her face tightened painfully while she inhaled sharply through trembling breaths.

Montez grabbed her hand instinctively.

“Breathe through it.”

Malia squeezed his hand weakly.

And for the first time all night…

Someone stayed beside her without being pulled away.

The surgical delivery room was cold.

Too cold.

Bright white lights reflected harshly off silver surgical tools while machines beeped steadily around the room. Nurses moved carefully between stations preparing equipment while doctors quietly discussed final surgical details nearby.

Everything smelled sterile.

Sharp.

Clean.

Malia hated hospitals.

Not because she feared them.

But because hospitals always reminded her how fragile her body truly was.

She laid flat against the operating table now, dressed in a pale blue surgical gown while warm blankets rested over parts of her body. The epidural had already been placed, leaving the lower half of her body numb and heavy.

The oxygen tubing still rested beneath her nose.

Her long hair had been braided loosely to keep it away from the surgical area, though strands still framed her exhausted face.

And God…

She looked tired.

Not just physically.

Soul tired.

Montez stood beside her dressed in black surgical scrubs with his hands sanitized and gloved. The massive Mafia king looked strangely out of place in a medical room.

Too dangerous. Too intense.

Yet somehow…

He was the calmest thing there.

Malia looked toward the doorway again.

Still.

Even now.

Still looking for Johnathan.

Montez noticed immediately.

His jaw tightened.

“He ain’t coming in here.”

The words came out flatter than intended.

Malia looked away slowly.

“…okay.”

That soft acceptance nearly pissed him off more than if she’d cried.

The anesthesiologist adjusted her IV gently.

“You may feel pressure during delivery, sweetheart, but you shouldn’t feel pain.”

Malia nodded faintly.

The doctor looked over the surgical drape.

“We’re beginning now.”

Everything suddenly became very real.

Malia’s breathing trembled slightly beneath the oxygen.

Montez looked down at her quietly.

“You scared?”

Malia swallowed.

“A little.”

“That’s normal.”

Silence settled briefly while the doctors began the procedure behind the curtain.

Malia stared blankly upward at the surgical lights.

Then quietly—

“…I thought he’d be here.”

Montez shut his eyes briefly.

Because honestly?

So did he.

The fact Johnathan still hadn’t come made something dark twist in his chest.

He knew Gia was dramatic. Knew she was laboring loudly. Knew she manipulated situations constantly.

But this?

Missing your wife’s C-section after she almost died?

That shit crossed a line.

Montez looked down at Malia again.

She looked so heartbreakingly small laying there alone.

And suddenly…

Years of regret hit him all at once.

Years.

Years of watching her silently endure things she never deserved.

Years of wondering what would've happened if the arranged engagement had never changed.

If Gia had never inserted herself between everything.

If he had simply fought harder for Malia back then.

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

“…I wish I would’ve married you instead.”

Silence.

Even the machines seemed quieter.

Malia’s eyes widened slowly.

She turned toward him fully now.

Montez stared ahead at the surgical curtain while speaking low.

“That’s how it was supposed to happen.”

Malia blinked weakly.

Years ago…

The original arrangement between the families had been clear.

Montez and Malia. Johnathan and someone else entirely.

That had been the plan.

Until Gia.

Gia flirted. Manipulated. Cried. Inserted herself constantly until the family arrangement shifted around her wants.

And Malia…

Malia quietly stepped aside.

Like always.

Montez laughed bitterly under his breath.

“You know what the fucked up part is?”

Malia stared at him silently.

“You would’ve actually been happy with me.”

The statement hit hard.

Because deep down?

Malia knew it might’ve been true.

Not because she didn’t love Johnathan.

She did.

God, she did.

But Montez…

Montez noticed her.

Always.

Even when nobody else did.

A tear slipped down Malia’s face quietly.

Montez immediately noticed.

“…damn.”

Carefully, he wiped it away with his gloved hand.

“You crying before the baby even here?”

Malia let out the tiniest shaky laugh through tears.

Then suddenly—

The doctor spoke up.

“We’re almost there.”

Everything in the room shifted instantly.

Nurses moved quicker. Monitors beeped steadily. The pressure against Malia’s stomach intensified.

Malia winced softly.

Montez grabbed her hand immediately.

“Breathe.”

Her fingers squeezed his tightly.

Then—

A sound filled the room.

A loud newborn cry.

Sharp. Beautiful. Alive.

The entire room paused for one perfect second.

Then the doctor smiled.

“It’s a boy.”

Malia’s breath caught instantly.

A boy.

Their baby.

After four years. After all the pressure. All the waiting. All the pain.

Their son was finally here.

The baby cried loudly while nurses carefully cleaned him nearby beneath the warmer lights.

Tiny. Beautiful. Perfect.

Montez stared for a second.

Then quietly muttered:

“…damn.”

Even he looked emotional.

The nurse smiled warmly.

“He’s gorgeous.”

The baby had thick dark hair already. Tiny curled fists. Strong lungs judging by the volume of his crying.

And despite everything…

He looked healthy.

Strong.

Malia started crying immediately.

Harder this time.

Not quiet tears anymore.

Real tears.

Emotional. Overwhelming. Broken.

Montez looked alarmed instantly.

“Malia—”

“He’s here…”

Her voice cracked violently.

“He’s finally here…”

The nurse wrapped the baby carefully in a soft blanket before handing him toward Montez briefly so Malia could see him easier.

The massive Mafia king suddenly looked absurdly gentle holding the newborn.

Montez carefully walked beside her bed.

“Aight little man,” he murmured quietly. “Meet your mama.”

Malia looked down at her son.

And completely shattered emotionally.

Because he was real.

Actually real.

Her baby.

The little life she protected for months while slowly falling apart emotionally herself.

Malia sobbed quietly now.

Montez carefully lowered the baby closer so she could touch him.

Her trembling fingers brushed against the baby’s tiny cheek softly.

And suddenly—

Everything started pouring out.

All the hurt. All the exhaustion. All the loneliness.

All the times she silently accepted less.

Malia cried harder.

“He missed it…”

The sentence came out broken.

Montez’s expression darkened instantly.

Because despite everything happening…

That was still what hurt her most.

Johnathan wasn’t there.

Not for the birth. Not for the first cry. Not for this moment.

Malia looked at her baby again through tears.

“He waited four years for him…”

Her voice cracked harder.

“And he’s not here…”

Montez looked away sharply.

Because suddenly he was angry too.

Not just irritated.

Angry.

At his brother. At Gia. At the families. At every moment that brought Malia to this point emotionally.

The newborn squirmed softly while crying again.

Montez adjusted him carefully.

Then quieter—

“He gon’ know you was here though.”

Malia looked up weakly.

Montez’s expression softened slightly.

“That baby gon’ know who stayed.”

The maternity floor was absolute chaos by the time Malia was wheeled out of surgery.

Nurses moved quickly through the hallways while security tried keeping both families from overwhelming the staff completely.

And somewhere nearby—

People were yelling.

Loudly.

“Oh my God, she had a girl?!” “The inheritance changes now!” “Westlend girls are rare!” “Mr. Harold’s gonna lose his damn mind—”

Malia slowly blinked awake beneath the soft hospital lights while her bed rolled through the hallway.

Her body hurt.

Everything hurt.

The numbness from surgery still lingered beneath the pain medication, leaving her feeling heavy and detached. The oxygen remained beneath her nose while the newborn bassinet rolled carefully beside her bed.

Inside it—

Her son slept peacefully wrapped in a soft cream blanket.

Tiny. Perfect. Completely unaware of the emotional disaster he’d been born into already.

Malia looked at him weakly.

Her chest tightened softly.

Her baby.

Their baby.

Yet the loud screaming coming from Gia’s recovery suite nearby made the moment feel almost stolen somehow.

The closer they rolled past the hallway—

The louder the arguing became.

“Why is everybody acting weird?!” “Because the old man wanted another male heir!” “Oh shut the fuck up!” “She literally JUST gave birth!”

Malia shut her eyes tiredly.

Even now.

Even after everything.

Still chaos.

Still family drama.

Still competition.

The nurses quickly wheeled her toward her private recovery room while Montez stepped out into the hallway nearby.

And immediately spotted Johnathan.

Johnathan stood outside Gia’s recovery suite looking emotionally wrecked.

Absolutely wrecked.

His dress shirt sleeves were rolled unevenly. His hair looked disheveled. His face pale from stress and exhaustion.

And honestly?

He looked miserable.

Montez glared at him instantly.

A long. Cold. Dangerous glare.

Johnathan noticed immediately.

The brothers stared at each other silently across the hallway.

Montez’s expression practically screamed:

You missed it.

Johnathan looked away first.

“…it’s a girl.”

Montez blinked once.

Inside the suite behind Johnathan, yelling exploded again.

Gia’s voice rang loudest.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT GRANDFATHER THINKS!” “SHE’S STILL A WESTLEND!”

Some older relatives argued loudly back.

“It changes the inheritance structure!” “Oh my God, can y’all shut the fuck up?!” “Not in front of the baby!”

Montez groaned deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

Johnathan rubbed both hands over his face.

“Everybody’s losing their damn minds in there.”

Montez looked toward the recovery room door with visible disgust.

“A child got born ten damn minutes ago and they already talking about money.”

Johnathan laughed bitterly.

“That’s this family.”

Montez looked back toward him sharply.

“Nah. That’s YOUR problem.”

Johnathan froze slightly.

Montez stepped closer now.

“You missed your son being born.”

The statement hit hard.

Johnathan visibly flinched.

“I know.”

“You weren’t there for your wife.”

“I KNOW.”

His voice cracked louder this time.

The hallway briefly fell silent.

Johnathan looked like he hated himself now.

Because deep down?

He did.

He looked toward Malia’s recovery room door.

“…how is she?”

Montez stared at him for a long moment.

Then answered flatly:

“She cried.”

Johnathan shut his eyes immediately.

Fuck.

Montez’s voice lowered dangerously.

“She kept looking at the damn door waiting for you.”

That almost physically knocked the breath from Johnathan’s chest.

Because he could picture it too easily.

Malia laying there scared and exhausted while still expecting him to come back.

Montez looked disgusted now.

“That girl gave you every piece of herself and you still left her sitting alone.”

Johnathan swallowed hard.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant.”

The brothers stared at each other tensely.

Then finally Montez sighed heavily.

“…I’m going back in there before Gia throws another damn IV pole.”

He walked past Johnathan toward the recovery suite.

The second he opened the door—

Gia was already yelling again.

“I DON’T WANT THOSE FLOWERS IN HERE!” “Mrs. Westlend, please calm down—” “NO!”

Montez immediately closed the door behind him.

Peace at last.

At least temporarily.

Meanwhile—

Down the hallway—

Malia rested quietly in her recovery bed.

The room lights were dimmed softly now while the baby slept beside her peacefully in the bassinet.

Everything finally felt still.

Too still.

Malia looked exhausted emotionally.

Not crying anymore.

Not angry.

Just empty.

Like she no longer had energy left for disappointment.

The door opened quietly.

Johnathan stepped inside slowly.

The second he saw the bassinet—

He froze.

Completely.

Their son.

Actually here.

For a moment he just stared.

The baby had thick dark hair already. Tiny fists curled beside his cheeks. A peaceful sleeping face.

And instantly—

Emotion hit Johnathan like a truck.

“Oh my God…”

His voice broke immediately.

He walked closer slowly like he couldn’t believe the baby was real.

“That’s my son…”

Malia looked over weakly from the hospital bed.

Her expression stayed soft.

But not happy.

Not the way he expected.

And that hurt worse somehow.

Johnathan looked between her and the baby again.

Then finally whispered:

“…he’s beautiful.”

Malia nodded faintly.

“He looks like you.”

Johnathan looked at her carefully now.

Really looked at her.

And finally saw it.

The sadness.

Not dramatic. Not loud.

Just quiet heartbreak sitting behind her eyes.

Because he hadn’t come back.

Johnathan’s chest tightened painfully.

“Malia…”

She looked away softly toward the bassinet.

“It’s okay.”

There it was again.

Those two words.

The same damn words she always used when she was hurting most.

Johnathan walked toward the bed slowly.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

Malia stayed silent.

Johnathan sat carefully beside her bed.

His eyes looked glossy now.

“I’m sorry.”

Malia’s fingers tightened slightly against the blanket.

“I didn’t wanna leave you.”

“But you did.”

The sentence came out soft.

Barely above a whisper.

And somehow?

The next morning, sunlight poured softly through the hospital windows.

For the first time in days…

The room looked peaceful.

Malia rested quietly against the raised hospital bed dressed in a beautiful cream silk nightgown the nurses had helped her into earlier that morning. Her long wavy hair spilled over her shoulders and down the bed in soft waves, freshly brushed and braided loosely away from her face.

She looked beautiful.

Fragile.

Like something that had cracked too many times but still somehow remained standing.

Their newborn son slept peacefully beside her in the bassinet, tiny fingers curled beneath his chin while soft breathing filled the quiet room.

Johnathan sat beside Malia carefully cutting fresh fruit into smaller pieces for her.

He hadn’t left her room all morning.

Not once.

Every few minutes he checked: Her oxygen. Her pain levels. Her water. The baby.

Like he was terrified to look away now.

“Open your mouth.”

Malia blinked slowly at him.

“Johnathan…”

“You gotta eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You just had surgery.”

Malia sighed softly but still opened her mouth slightly while he fed her another piece of fruit carefully.

Johnathan watched her closely.

“You still hurting?”

“A little.”

“You need more medicine?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

Malia looked down quietly.

“John…”

His face softened immediately.

“What?”

“…stop hovering.”

Johnathan actually looked offended.

“You scared the shit outta me for two days and now I’m hovering?”

Malia’s lips twitched faintly.

The smallest almost-smile.

Johnathan instantly relaxed seeing it.

“There she go.”

Before Malia could answer—

The hospital room door suddenly burst open.

Chaos entered immediately.

“Oh my GOD let me see him!” “Move!” “That baby got Westlend eyes already!” “He look rich!”

The families flooded inside all at once.

Westlends. Chensworths. Cousins. Aunts. Everybody.

The room instantly became loud.

Rafael immediately leaned over the bassinet.

“DAMN, that’s a handsome little dude.”

Selene laughed.

“He literally just got here.”

Damien looked emotional already.

“That boy finna own half the city one day.”

Evelyn Chensworth wiped tears from her eyes dramatically.

“My first grandson…”

Even old Mr. Harold Westlend looked satisfied standing near the back of the room.

“A male heir.”

The statement made several people visibly straighten up.

Because unfortunately?

In families like this…

That mattered.

A lot.

The atmosphere became celebratory almost instantly.

People passed the baby carefully. Took pictures. Talked loudly over each other.

And through all of it—

Malia sat quietly in bed.

Smiling softly when expected.

But emotionally…

She looked far away.

Johnathan noticed.

Of course he noticed now.

Every time someone congratulated him, his eyes drifted back toward Malia.

And every time—

She looked sadder.

Not angry.

Not bitter.

Just…done.

At one point Gia herself appeared briefly in the doorway holding her own newborn daughter dramatically while several nurses hovered nearby nervously.

“Everybody’s acting like boys are more important,” Gia complained instantly.

Montez appeared behind her looking dead inside.

“Girl, not today.”

Gia rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious!”

Nobody answered.

Because honestly?

The room tension already felt weird enough.

Malia looked away quietly.

Montez noticed instantly.

So did Johnathan.

Eventually after nearly an hour of overwhelming noise, nurses finally forced everybody out so Malia could rest.

The room slowly emptied.

Voices faded into the hallway.

Then finally—

Silence again.

Only Johnathan remained.

He closed the door gently behind the last family member before turning back toward Malia.

Their son slept quietly nearby.

Johnathan exhaled softly.

“You okay?”

Malia looked down at her hands.

Then after a long silence—

“…I want a divorce.”

The room froze.

Johnathan stared at her.

Completely stunned.

“What?”

Malia didn’t look at him.

“I think we should divorce.”

Johnathan’s entire face changed instantly.

Confusion. Shock. Fear.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Malia inhaled shakily.

“I’m serious.”

Johnathan stood up immediately.

“No.”

Malia finally looked at him.

Tears already filled her eyes again.

“Johnathan—”

“No.”

His voice cracked sharply.

“Why the hell would you even say that right now?”

Malia laughed weakly through tears.

“Because I should’ve said it a long time ago.”

Johnathan stared at her in disbelief.

“Malia, we literally just had our son.”

“And you missed his birth.”

Silence.

That hit immediately.

Johnathan swallowed hard.

“Malia—”

“You missed it.”

Her voice trembled harder now.

“Our baby waited four years to get here…”

Tears slid down her face quietly.

“And you still left me alone.”

Johnathan rubbed both hands over his face roughly.

“Baby, Gia was screaming and everybody—”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

The sentence came out sharper than usual.

Johnathan froze slightly.

Because Malia almost never interrupted people.

Never raised her voice.

But now?

Everything she’d buried emotionally for years was finally cracking open.

Malia wiped tears from her face shakily.

“It’s always Gia.”

Johnathan opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

Because deep down?

He knew she was right.

Malia looked at him weakly.

“I spent four years understanding everything.”

Her breathing trembled.

“Every time you left me sitting alone because Gia needed attention.” “Every dinner.” “Every family event.” “Every appointment.” “Every moment.”

Johnathan looked destroyed already.

“Malia—”

“I kept telling myself you loved me enough for it to be okay.”

Her voice broke badly.

“But I don’t wanna feel second in my own marriage anymore.”

Johnathan’s eyes widened instantly.

“Second?”

“Yes.”

The word came out painfully soft.

“Your wife should never feel like she’s competing with her own sister for your attention.”

Johnathan looked genuinely horrified now.

“Malia, that is NOT what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence.

Heavy silence.

Because he didn’t know how to answer.

Malia looked exhausted now.

Emotionally stripped bare.

“I think us getting married was a mistake.”

That one almost physically hurt him.

“No.”

Johnathan moved closer instantly.

“No the fuck it wasn’t.”

Malia shook her head weakly.

“You love me, Johnathan…” “…but not enough to choose me first.”

The tears in his eyes became visible immediately.

“Malia please…”

For the first time in years—

Johnathan looked terrified of losing her for real.

Meanwhile—

Next door—

Another marriage was collapsing too.

Gia sat dramatically in bed holding her newborn daughter while Montez stood near the window silently.

The tension in the room felt toxic.

Gia glared at him.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since Malia had that baby.”

Montez looked over slowly.

Then flatly said:

“I want a divorce.”

Gia’s face went completely blank.

“…what?”

Montez didn’t hesitate.

“I’m done.”

And suddenly—

The entire Westlend family was beginning to fall apart at the exact same time.

A few days later, the Westlend estate looked like it was preparing for war.

Again.

Luxury vehicles lined the massive driveway while security guards stood tense near every entrance. Servants moved nervously through the mansion carrying trays nobody was touching because the atmosphere inside had become too hostile for anybody to comfortably eat.

The grand family sitting room was filled wall to wall with tension.

Both families had gathered.

Westlends. Chensworths. Lawyers. Older relatives.

And everybody was arguing.

At the center of all the chaos—

Malia sat quietly on one of the cream-colored sofas holding her newborn son against her chest.

She looked heartbreakingly calm.

Her long wavy hair fell around her body like silk while the baby rested peacefully in her arms completely unbothered by the screaming surrounding him.

Unlike everybody else in the room…

He was quiet.

Still.

Observant.

Tiny dark eyes stared up at Malia peacefully while one tiny hand rested against her night robe.

Malia gently rubbed his back automatically.

No expression on her face.

Just exhaustion.

Across the room—

Gia sat dramatically on another sofa holding her newborn daughter while chaos exploded around her.

And unlike Malia’s son?

Gia’s baby screamed endlessly.

Loud. Sharp. Demanding.

Every few seconds Gia bounced her dramatically while complaining louder than the child.

“She won’t stop crying!” “Somebody do something!” “Why does she only scream when I hold her?!”

One exhausted nanny quietly muttered under her breath:

“…because babies feel energy.”

Montez almost laughed.

Instead he leaned heavily against the fireplace looking like he’d reached his absolute limit with life itself.

Meanwhile the older relatives argued nonstop.

“This divorce talk is ridiculous!” “They JUST had children!” “What will people say?!” “The press already knows something’s wrong!” “Think about the family reputation!”

Rafael groaned loudly from the armchair.

“Man fuck the family reputation.”

Selene nodded instantly.

“Seriously. Everybody in here more worried about appearances than the actual marriages.”

That shut several people up briefly.

Johnathan stood near Malia protectively while tension radiated off him heavily.

He hadn’t slept properly in days.

And now?

He looked angry.

Not explosive angry.

Desperate angry.

Because Malia had not taken back the divorce request.

Not once.

Every time he tried talking privately, she became quiet again.

Not cold.

Not cruel.

Just emotionally distant.

And that scared him worse than yelling ever could.

Across the room, Evelyn Chensworth dabbed her eyes dramatically.

“Malia sweetheart… marriage is hard sometimes.”

Malia looked down at her baby quietly.

No answer.

Evelyn continued nervously.

“You can’t just throw away four years together.”

Still silence.

Then suddenly—

Gia snapped loudly.

“Well maybe if everybody stopped babying Malia, she wouldn’t think divorce solves everything!”

The room instantly froze.

Montez looked at his wife slowly.

Dangerously slowly.

“Gianna…”

Gia rolled her eyes while bouncing her screaming daughter.

“What?! I’m just saying she acts like she’s the only woman who’s struggled in marriage!”

Malia’s fingers tightened slightly around her son.

Johnathan immediately noticed.

His face hardened instantly.

“Gia shut the fuck up.”

Gia looked offended immediately.

“Oh wow, so now everybody hates me because I had emotions too?”

“Your emotions ain’t the issue,” Montez snapped sharply. “Your selfish ass behavior is.”

Gia stood up angrily despite holding the baby.

“I am so sick of everybody blaming me for THEIR marriage problems!”

Montez laughed harshly.

“The fuck you mean THEIR problems?”

Gia glared at him.

“You act like I forced Johnathan to pay attention to me!”

“No,” Montez replied coldly. “You just made damn sure Malia never got peace.”

The room became dead silent.

Because everybody knew it was true.

Every event. Every dinner. Every crisis.

Gia always somehow became the center.

And Malia always quietly disappeared into the background.

Johnathan rubbed his forehead roughly.

“This shit ain’t all on Gia.”

Montez immediately looked toward him sharply.

“Oh now you defending her?”

“I’m taking accountability.”

“The fuck you are.”

Johnathan’s jaw tightened instantly.

Montez pushed off the fireplace now.

“You know what accountability would’ve been?”

His voice deepened dangerously.

“Being beside your wife when she was emotionally drowning instead of running every time Gia screamed.”

Johnathan stepped forward too now.

“You think I don’t know I fucked up?!”

“Apparently not enough!”

The room erupted again.

“Enough!” “Calm down!” “Not in front of the babies!”

But Montez wasn’t stopping now.

“That woman almost died and you STILL let somebody pull you away from her!”

Johnathan looked furious.

“I WAS TRYING TO HELP EVERYBODY!”

“And that’s the damn problem!”

Montez pointed directly toward Malia.

“Your wife needed YOU.”

The room fell silent again.

Montez’s voice lowered.

“But somehow she always came second.”

Malia slowly lowered her eyes.

Her son remained calm against her chest.

Quiet.

Just like her.

Montez looked back at Johnathan coldly.

“You should’ve took care of her like you was supposed to.”

Johnathan’s expression cracked slightly.

Because hearing it aloud hurt.

Especially because it was true.

Malia had always taken care of everybody else emotionally.

And nobody noticed how badly she needed somebody protecting her too.

Johnathan looked toward her finally.

Really looked.

She looked disconnected from everything happening around her.

Not dramatic.

Not hysterical.

Just emotionally gone somewhere else already.

That terrified him.

“Baby…”

Malia didn’t answer immediately.

Her fingers gently stroked the baby’s tiny back while he blinked sleepily up at her.

Then finally—

Without looking at him—

“I don’t hate you, John.”

The sentence sounded soft.

Painfully soft.

“But I’m tired of hurting quietly.”

Johnathan’s throat tightened instantly.

Across the room, Gia scoffed loudly again.

“Oh my God she talks like she’s dying in a romance movie.”

Montez snapped instantly.

“Gianna, shut your dumb ass up before I forget we got children in this room.”

Gia looked horrified.

“You’re threatening me now?!”

“No,” Montez said flatly. “That was me being polite.”

The baby in Gia’s arms immediately started screaming harder.

Meanwhile Malia’s son remained completely peaceful against her chest.

Damien looked between both babies slowly.

“…damn.”

Selene muttered under her breath:

“One baby got peace from his mama.” “The other inherited stress immediately.”

Gia gasped dramatically.

“I HEARD THAT!”

Nobody cared.

At the center of the room—

Malia quietly held her son while both families continued tearing themselves apart around her.

And for the first time…

She no longer looked emotionally attached to the outcome.

A few days later, both couples sat inside one of the most expensive pediatric clinics in the city.

And somehow…

The atmosphere was still chaotic as hell.

The private waiting room had been completely reserved for the Westlend family, complete with soft cream furniture, refreshments, gold-trimmed walls, and quiet instrumental music playing overhead.

But none of that mattered because—

Gia and Montez’s daughter was screaming.

Again.

Loudly.

The newborn’s cries echoed through the entire clinic while nurses hurried around trying to calm both mother and baby simultaneously.

Gia looked completely overwhelmed.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS!”

The baby screamed louder.

Gia nearly started crying herself.

“I FED HER!” “I CHANGED HER!” “WHY DOES SHE KEEP YELLING?!”

Montez sat nearby looking deeply exhausted while rubbing both hands over his face.

“She’s a damn baby, Gianna.”

“WELL YOUR SON NEPHEW DOESN’T CRY THIS MUCH!”

At the other side of the room—

Malia quietly held Junior against her chest.

And honestly?

The difference between the babies was almost unsettling.

Junior barely fussed.

Barely moved.

He simply rested calmly against Malia’s body with sleepy dark eyes quietly observing the room around him.

Too calm.

Even the nurses had noticed earlier.

“He’s very observant,” one nurse had commented softly.

Now Johnathan sat beside Malia watching their son carefully.

His expression looked worried.

Because despite everything…

Something felt off.

Junior slept deeply. Rarely startled. Rarely reacted to loud noises.

Even now, Gia’s daughter screamed loud enough to wake the dead—

And Junior barely blinked.

Johnathan frowned slightly.

“You think he’s too quiet?”

Malia looked down at the baby softly.

“He’s been like this since birth.”

Johnathan rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“He don’t react to sound much.”

Malia’s chest tightened slightly.

Because she’d noticed too.

But after everything with her own health, surgery, and emotional stress…

She kept convincing herself maybe she was overthinking.

Eventually the pediatric specialist entered the room.

Dr. Leonard Hayes.

A calm older doctor with glasses and a reassuring voice.

He smiled warmly.

“Well let’s meet the famous Westlend babies.”

Gia immediately stood up with her crying daughter.

“She has not stopped screaming for two hours.”

The doctor looked completely unbothered.

“That’s actually pretty normal.”

Gia looked personally offended.

“Well I don’t like it.”

Montez muttered under his breath:

“None of us do.”

The doctor began examining Gia’s daughter first.

The newborn screamed through the entire process.

Temperature checks. Heartbeat. Reflexes.

Everything.

Gia panicked dramatically every five seconds.

“Is she okay?!” “Why she crying like that?!” “She hate doctors already!”

The doctor finally smiled.

“She’s perfectly healthy.”

Gia visibly relaxed instantly.

“Thank God.”

Montez looked emotionally detached.

“Wonderful.”

Then the doctor turned toward Malia and Johnathan.

“And this must be Junior.”

Johnathan’s face softened slightly hearing the name aloud.

Junior Westlend.

Named after him.

Their long-awaited son.

Malia carefully handed the baby over to the doctor.

Junior remained calm in his arms.

Almost too calm.

The doctor examined him quietly.

Heartbeat. Eyes. Reflexes. Muscle tone.

Everything looked normal at first.

Then the doctor grabbed a small auditory response device and tested sound reactions gently near the baby’s ears.

A soft clicking sound played near Junior’s right ear.

Junior blinked faintly.

Then the doctor tested the left side.

Nothing.

The doctor paused.

Johnathan immediately noticed.

“What?”

The doctor repeated the test carefully.

Still almost no reaction.

Malia’s fingers tightened together nervously.

The room suddenly felt colder.

The doctor remained calm.

“Let’s try one more thing.”

He tested several different sound levels quietly while watching Junior’s reactions carefully.

Johnathan’s face slowly paled.

“Doctor?”

Dr. Hayes finally lowered the device gently.

Then looked toward both parents carefully.

“Junior appears to have hearing loss affecting the left side.”

Silence.

Malia blinked slowly.

“What?”

The doctor softened his voice.

“It’s a hearing disorder involving reduced auditory response.”

Johnathan stared at him.

“…how bad?”

The doctor quickly reassured them.

“First, let me say this is NOT life threatening.”

Both parents visibly exhaled immediately.

Especially Malia.

Because after her complicated pregnancy…

That was her biggest fear.

The doctor continued gently.

“Right now, we believe he still has partial hearing function, but he’ll likely need hearing aids on both sides to support balanced development and auditory processing as he grows.”

Malia looked down at Junior instantly.

Her eyes watered immediately.

Not from rejection.

Not from disappointment.

Just fear.

Fear of the unknown.

Johnathan leaned forward quickly.

“So he’ll still be able to hear us?”

“Yes,” the doctor reassured immediately. “And with early intervention, hearing aids, and monitoring, many children develop beautifully.”

Malia looked emotional now.

“He’s gonna be okay?”

The doctor smiled softly.

“I genuinely believe so.”

Johnathan finally exhaled deeply.

His shoulders visibly relaxed for the first time all appointment.

“Fuck…”

He rubbed his face hard.

“I thought y’all were about to tell us something terrible.”

Malia quietly reached over and touched Junior’s tiny fingers.

The baby simply blinked sleepily up at her.

Calm as ever.

The doctor continued explaining carefully.

“We caught it early, which is very important. We’ll arrange fittings for infant hearing aids and continue monitoring him closely.”

Gia suddenly spoke up from nearby while bouncing her now-quiet daughter.

“So he’s deaf?”

The room instantly became tense.

Malia’s face fell slightly.

The doctor answered professionally.

“He has hearing impairment affecting one side more significantly than the other.”

Gia blinked.

“Oh.”

Montez immediately looked toward her sharply.

“Don’t.”

Gia frowned.

“What?”

Montez’s voice lowered dangerously.

“Don’t start no weird shit.”

Gia rolled her eyes slightly.

“I wasn’t even saying anything.”

But the damage already lingered in the room.

Because Malia immediately pulled Junior closer protectively.

Instinctively.

Like she already felt the need to shield him from people.

Johnathan noticed instantly.

And something about it hurt him deeply.

Because suddenly he realized—

Their son might grow up feeling overlooked too.

Misunderstood. Different. Quiet.

Just like Malia.

Johnathan moved closer beside her.

Then gently kissed the side of Junior’s tiny head.

“He’s perfect.”

Malia looked over at him quietly.

Johnathan repeated it more firmly this time.

“I mean it.”

His eyes stayed on their son.

“We’ll figure everything else out.”

For the first time in days…

Malia’s expression softened slightly.

Not fully.

But enough for Johnathan to notice.

And honestly?

That tiny shift meant everything to him now.