Audrey's POV
When you lose something… that's when you finally realize how much you needed it.
I used to think I was strong and untouchable. But now, sitting here on the cold hospital floor, knees pulled to my chest, I felt nothing but hollow.
"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered into the silence, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry I lost you before I even had the chance to know you. I thought I had time…"
My hands trembled as they pressed against my stomach—flat now, empty. The words caught in my throat as fresh tears burned my eyes. I tried to stop them, but they came anyway, wave after wave, until I couldn't breathe.
I hid in the corner of the hospital room, away from the light, away from the world. I didn't want anyone to see me like this—broken, fragile, human.
Then I felt it.
A hand, warm and steady, slid around me from behind. Strong arms pulling me in, wrapping around my shaking body.
He didn't say a word.
He just held me.
And that silence—his silence—broke me even more than any comforting words could have. Because he didn't need to speak, he understood.
I tried to push him away once, weakly. "Simon… please," I whispered through my tears. But he didn't let go.
He just stayed there, letting me cry against his chest, his breath steady against my hair, anchoring me when my world had fallen apart.
So I stopped fighting. I stopped pretending. I just cried—cried for my baby, for everything I had lost, for everything I would never get back.
I let myself be held.
Simon's POV
I've never felt so useless in my life.
Watching her break like that—folding into herself on the hospital floor, her tears soaking into her hands—something in me just… snapped. There was nothing I could say that would make it better. Words felt too small, too cheap for the kind of pain she was in.
So I did the only thing I could. I reached out and held her.
At first, she fought it. Weakly. Her fingers pressed against my chest like she wanted to push me away, but there was no strength in them. Then she whispered, "Simon… please," and my heart nearly gave out.
Please what? Please go? Please stay? Please make it stop?
I didn't know. I just knew I couldn't leave her—not like this.
Her body trembled against mine, every breath uneven, every sob cutting through me like a blade. I could feel her pain, sharp and real, sinking under my skin until it became my own.
She had lost something I could never replace. And I hated myself for not being able to protect her—from Adel, from Jeremy, from everything.
All I could do was hold her tighter, hoping somehow my arms could keep her from falling apart completely.
I pressed my chin gently against her hair. "You're not alone," I whispered, barely trusting my voice. She didn't answer, but her hands clutched my shirt, holding on like she was drowning.
And maybe she was.
The room was quiet except for her quiet crying and the sound of the rain tapping against the window. Outside, the world went on as if nothing had happened. But for me—for her—everything had changed.
I didn't care about the rules or her family trying to throw me out of the hospital. Let them try. I'd come back a thousand times if I had to.
Because somewhere between protecting her and losing her, I realized—I didn't just care about Audrey.
I loved her.
And I wasn't going anywhere.