[Jay's POV]
The words "he's gone" didn't feel like information. They felt like a physical amputation.
For five months, I had felt that rhythm. I had felt the "Powerhouse" building his world inside mine. And now, looking at Keifer's shattered face, the grief didn't come out as sadness—it came out as a violent, white-hot explosion of agony.
"You promised!" I shrieked, my voice cracking into a jagged mess. "You said the perimeter was safe! You said you were the Shield!"
I reached out and began to strike his chest. My fists were weak from the coma, but I threw every ounce of my soul into the blows. Thud. Thud. Thud. "Why didn't you catch me?!" I sobbed, my vision blurring until he was just a charcoal-colored shadow in front of me. "You're the CEO! You're supposed to control everything! Why couldn't you control this?!"
I beat against his shoulders, his chest, my hands stinging, my heart screaming. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. I wanted him to roar back, to defend himself, to give me something to fight against other than this hollow, empty silence in my womb.
But he didn't move. He didn't flinch. He just stood there and took it, his body as solid as a stone wall, letting me exhaust my rage against him.
[Keifer's POV]
Every blow she landed felt like it was rightfully deserved. Her small fists hitting my chest were nothing compared to the sledgehammer of guilt swinging inside my ribs.
I watched her—my Empress, my Constant—falling apart in front of me. Her hair was matted, her eyes were wild with a pain I couldn't bribe or negotiate away.
"I'm sorry, Wiefy," I whispered, my voice sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. "I failed the system. Strike me. 1,000% of the blame is mine. Just don't stop breathing."
I let her beat me until her movements slowed, until her fists turned into palms, and her screams turned into shallow, hitching gasps. The anger was draining out of her, leaving only the raw, bleeding core of a mother who had lost her child.
[Jay's POV]
My strength finally evaporated. My hands slid down his silk tie, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as I felt my knees give way.
The rage was gone, replaced by a cold, terrifying loneliness. I looked up at him—at the man I had just tried to break—and saw that he was already broken. His eyes were twin pools of absolute despair, reflecting my own loss back at me.
"Keif..." I choked out.
I lunged forward, not to strike him this time, but to bury myself in him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him with a desperation that felt like drowning. I sobbed into the crook of his neck, the sound echoing through the sterile ICU room—a high, thin wail of a broken woman.
"He's gone, Keif... our baby... he's really gone," I wailed, my entire body shaking so hard the hospital bed rattled.
[Keifer's POV]
The moment she touched me, the last of my "CEO" armor shattered. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her so close there wasn't a millimeter of air between us. I buried my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of antiseptic and her, and I finally let go.
I sobbed with her. The "Cold Prince" was dead. There was only a father mourning his son and a husband trying to hold the pieces of his wife together.
"I have you," I choked out, my tears soaking into her hospital gown. "I still have you, Jay. I'll never let you go. We'll carry the silence together. 1,000% together."
I swayed with her, rocking her back and forth as the rest of the family—Mamma, Pappa, and the boys—watched from the shadows of the doorway, their own tears falling in a silent, collective grief for the Watson heir who never got to see the sun.