The trip back from the NICU was slower.
The nurses moved with careful precision, pausing every few ters to let Willow catch her breath. The adrenaline that had pushed her through the visit drained out of her bloodstream like a slow leak, leaving her pale and shaking in the transport chair.
Her body felt hollow now, like sothing essential had been spent and not yet replaced. Every muscle trembled with the effort of staying upright, and her head lolled slightly to one side before she caught herself. She hated how weak she felt, hated that joy had such a steep cost.
Zane walked half a step behind her, his hands hovering near her shoulders without touching, as if he were fighting the urge to lift her into his arms and carry her himself.
He matched his steps to the pace of the wheels, alert to every shift in her breathing and every small sound she made. His jaw stayed tight, not from anger but from restraint. It took effort not to act on instinct, not to take control when her body was clearly finished.
Victor remained quieter than before. Not tense. Not hostile. Simply inward.
He watched Willow’s head dip and lift again. He watched Zane’s shadow follow closely behind the chair. He said nothing because any words now would only expose what he was still trying to contain.
Willow tried to keep her eyes open, but exhaustion clung to her like a heavy blanket. She drifted in and out, replaying Zana’s tiny breaths against her skin and the soft weight of her daughter’s fragile body curled against her chest.
The mory was bright and piercing all at once. Zana’s warmth had settled into her bones, deeper than pain and deeper than fear. Willow clung to that sensation now. It was the only thing keeping her upright while her strength drained away.
When they reached her room, the nurses lifted her gently back into bed. Even that small movent pulled a sound from Willow, half whimper and half breath, and Zane reacted imdiately.
"Hey, slow down. Do not raise her that high," he said, his voice low but edged with concern.
The nurse adjusted the angle of the bed calmly. "Post surgical pain worsens after exertion. She did quite a lot today."
Willow let out a weak laugh that wavered at the edges. "I just sat in a chair."
"You held your baby for the first ti," the nurse replied gently. "In your condition that counts as a marathon."
Zane’s expression softened. "She is right."
He reached for the bed rail and gripped it tightly, as if grounding himself there. Pride and fear tangled in his chest in ways he could not easily separate.
Willow leaned back into the pillows, her eyes fluttering closed. Her chest rose and fell too quickly, her body overwheld and raw while it struggled to balance joy and pain.
She felt split in two. One part of her was still in the NICU beside Grace. The other part remained trapped in a body that refused to keep pace with her heart.
Victor stepped forward quietly. "Water?"
Willow nodded faintly. He lifted the cup with both hands and guided the straw toward her lips with careful steadiness. She drank slowly before resting her head back against the pillows.
Victor watched the movent of her throat as she swallowed. Providing care was familiar territory for him. It was sothing he could do without crossing boundaries.
When Willow opened her eyes again, they drifted to Zane first.
Not deliberately.
Not dramatically.
Simply instinct.
Victor saw it.
He noticed the way her gaze settled and the subtle shift in her breathing as it eased. It was not a conscious choice. It was reflex.
This ti he did not stiffen or turn away abruptly. He blinked once, acknowledging a truth he had already accepted hours earlier.
The nurse finished checking Willow’s vitals and dimd the lights.
"You need rest," she said gently. "Your body is still catching up. Press the call button if the pain increases."
Willow nodded softly and murmured her thanks as the nurse slipped out of the room.
The door clicked shut.
Silence settled in.
The room felt smaller without the nurses present. The quiet made every emotion louder.
Willow’s breathing hitched again and she pressed a hand against her abdon with a small wince. Zane moved closer imdiately.
"Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere," she whispered.
A tear slid down the side of her face before she could stop it.
"But seeing her. God, Zane. Seeing her."
Her voice cracked in a way that shattered sothing inside him.
Without thinking, Zane reached out and brushed her hair back from her face.
"You were incredible."
The words were simple and unadorned.
That honesty made them land harder than anything dramatic ever could.
Her breath unspooled slowly, uneven but calming. She leaned slightly toward his hand, only a fraction of movent but unmistakable.
Zane froze.
His heart thudded heavily in his chest.
Victor saw it.
He remained completely still, his shoulders lifting with a quiet breath no one else noticed.
This ti the ache did not surprise him. It settled inside him with a heavy sense of finality.
Willow whispered softly, "Do not leave."
Zane hesitated only long enough to look at her face. She was not asking out of weakness. It was the instinctive fear of a new mother whose body had betrayed her too many tis.
"I am not going anywhere," he said gently.
She exhaled shakily and allowed her eyes to close.
For a few seconds the room softened into a quiet lull filled with the gentle beeping of monitors, faint hallway sounds, and Willow’s shallow breathing.
Victor stepped closer.
"Willow, if you need anything."
She opened her eyes again, heavy with exhaustion, and looked at him.
Her expression was kind.
Grateful.
But distant in a way that had not existed three days earlier.
The distance was not cruel. It was simply honest.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Nothing more.
Just gratitude.
Victor understood.
He nodded slowly. "I will give you two so ti."
He picked up his coat from the chair with asured movents. At the door he paused for a mont and looked back.
Willow was already drifting into sleep, her body tilting unconsciously toward Zane’s side of the bed, her hand curling lightly toward the sound of his breathing.
Victor swallowed once, quietly.
"I will co back in the morning to check on you," he said.
Willow managed a faint smile. "Okay."
The door closed behind him.
Zane stepped closer to the bed and pulled the blanket higher over her abdon.
"Sleep," he murmured. "I am here."
Her eyelashes fluttered slightly. "Stay?"
"I am not leaving."
Her fingers reached slowly toward his, searching.
He t them halfway.
She fell asleep like that, her breathing finally steady, anchored by a presence her body recognized before her mind had the chance to say it aloud.
Zane watched her for a long mont, emotion tightening his throat.
Then, quietly, he whispered to the room.
"I am going to spend my whole life proving you were right to reach for ."
And for the first ti in days, Willow slept without fear.
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