KISS'S POV
Hospitals had a way of stealing your breath before you even stepped inside.
The automatic doors slid open, and the sharp scent of antiseptic hit me instantly. Bright lights. Rushing feet. Voices layered over voices. Everything moved too fast and not fast enough at the same time.
"Emergency labor!" a nurse shouted as they wheeled Augustina in on a stretcher.
Her face was pale, sweat beading at her temples, her fingers clenched tightly around Isaac's sleeve.
"I'm here," Isaac kept saying, voice shaking despite the steel in his posture. "I'm right here, Gus. Look at me."
She tried to smile, but another contraction hit, and she cried out, the sound slicing straight through my chest.
The doors to the labor ward swung open.
"That's as far as you go," a doctor said sharply, stepping in front of Isaac.
"What?" Isaac snapped. "Move."
"Sir, only medical personnel—"
"I am her husband."
The words thundered through the hallway.
Everyone froze.
Doctor. Nurse. Me. Adrian.
Isaac stepped forward, eyes blazing. "That woman is carrying my child. You're not keeping me out."
The doctor hesitated, scanning his face like he was weighing something invisible.
Augustina whimpered. "Isaac… please…"
That did it.
"Let him in," the doctor finally said. "But you stay out of the way."
Isaac didn't even nod. He followed the stretcher instantly, gripping Augustina's hand as the doors slammed shut behind them.
And just like that—
We were left outside.
The silence felt cruel.
I sank onto the nearest chair, my knees weak. Adrian sat beside me immediately, pulling me into his arms without a word.
"She'll be okay," he murmured against my hair.
I nodded, though my throat was tight. "She has to be."
Minutes stretched into eternity.
I clasped my hands together, whispering prayers I didn't even know I remembered.
"God… please," I breathed. "Whoever is listening. Please protect her. Protect the baby. I'll trade anything—anything."
Adrian pressed a kiss to my temple. "She's strong. So is Isaac."
"But strength doesn't stop pain," I whispered.
The first scream echoed from behind the doors.
I jolted.
"That was her," I said shakily.
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Yes."
Another scream followed.
Longer.
Raw.
My hands trembled. "I hate this part. The waiting. The not knowing."
He squeezed me gently. "You won't be alone when it's your turn."
I looked up at him, tears pooling. "Promise?"
"I swear it," he said without hesitation. "I won't leave your side for a second."
Footsteps rushed toward us.
"Adrian!"
I turned just as his father strode into the hallway, his expression hard but worried. Behind him came Isaac's father and mother, faces pale, eyes anxious.
"Where is she?" Isaac's mother asked breathlessly.
"In labor," Adrian replied. "Isaac's with her."
She clasped her hands together. "Thank God."
The men exchanged a tense glance before sitting opposite us.
"How long has she been in?" Isaac's father asked.
"Not long," I answered softly. "But… it's intense."
Another scream tore through the hallway.
Isaac's mother gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh my God…"
Adrian's father cleared his throat. "Childbirth isn't gentle."
"No," I said quietly. "But it's powerful."
Time blurred.
Hours felt like minutes. Minutes felt like years.
Doctors moved in and out. Nurses whispered. Machines beeped steadily, mocking our impatience.
Then—
A door opened.
A doctor stepped out, mask lowered.
Everyone stood at once.
"How is she?" Isaac's mother demanded.
The doctor smiled faintly. "She's doing well. Your son hasn't left her side for a second."
Relief crashed through me so hard my knees almost buckled.
"But labor is progressing," he added. "We'll keep you updated."
When the door closed again, Adrian exhaled slowly. "That's good."
Another scream followed — this one fierce, angry, powerful.
"That's not pain," Isaac's father said quietly.
I blinked. "What is it?"
"That's fight."
More waiting.
More prayers.
My back ached. My heart raced. Every scream twisted deeper into my chest.
Then suddenly—
Silence.
Too much silence.
I stood abruptly. "Why did it stop?"
Before anyone could answer—
A cry pierced the air.
Sharp.
Small.
Perfect.
A baby's cry.
My breath caught.
Isaac's mother burst into tears. "That's— that's the baby…"
Another cry followed, stronger this time.
Adrian grabbed my hand tightly. "They did it."
The doors opened again.
This time, the doctor was smiling broadly.
"Congratulations," he announced. "It's a healthy baby girl."
The hallway erupted.
"Oh thank God!" Isaac's mother sobbed, clinging to her husband.
Adrian's father let out a breath I didn't know he was holding.
"And the mother?" I asked urgently.
"She's exhausted," the doctor said gently. "But she's smiling. And asking for her husband."
I laughed through tears. "That sounds like her."
Minutes later, we were allowed in.
Augustina lay in the hospital bed, hair damp, face pale—but glowing.
Isaac sat beside her, forehead pressed to hers, tears running freely down his face.
"You did it," he whispered. "You're incredible."
She smiled weakly. "You cried."
"I'll cry again," he said hoarsely. "Don't test me."
The nurse placed the baby gently into Augustina's arms.
I covered my mouth.
She was perfect.
Tiny fingers. Soft cheeks. A quiet strength already etched into her presence.
Augustina looked at her daughter, eyes shining. "She's beautiful."
"She looks like you," Isaac said proudly.
I stepped closer, heart full. "Welcome to the world, little one."
Adrian wrapped his arm around me, his voice low. "This will be us soon."
I rested my head against his chest.
"Yes," I whispered. "Soon."
And in that moment—surrounded by family, love, exhaustion, and life—I realized something with absolute certainty:
No matter what storms waited ahead…
This was what we were fighting for.