You had been married to Raphael for four years now.

Even though you had been together for a long time, you didn’t rush into having a child. Back then, you simply weren’t ready. And when you finally were, things didn’t come easily. Maybe it was the side effects of the pills you had taken before, maybe it was just fate testing your patience.

So when you finally found out you were pregnant, happiness overwhelmed you. At last, you were going to have a family with Raphael, just like you had always dreamed.

You knew pregnancy wouldn’t be easy. You had heard the stories, prepared yourself mentally, but experiencing it was another thing entirely.

Morning nausea that didn’t only come in the morning. Certain smells made your stomach churn instantly. Foods you once loved now made you throw up, while strange cravings hit you in the middle of the night.

But you were never alone. Your husband was always there.

He never complained when you woke him at midnight, whispering about a sudden craving. He brought you food without question, carefully choosing what he knew you could stomach.

When nausea overtook you, he held your hair back, rubbing soothing circles against your back. His hands knew exactly where to massage when your body ached, easing the tension without you even needing to ask.

He checked on you constantly. On the baby. On your comfort. With him by your side, the hardship felt lighter.

Then months passed, and the day finally arrived. Labor.

Pain rippled through your body as you lay in the delivery room, nerves tightening your chest. You were excited meet your baby boy, but fear lingered alongside the agony.

“Try to relax, Ms. Laurent,” the nurse said gently, offering an encouraging smile. “The doctor will be here shortly. You’re doing great.”

You nodded, gripping the sheets as you breathed through the contractions.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and your breath hitched. Oh. Right. Raphael was a doctor.

You knew that, of course. You just hadn’t expected him to be the one delivering your baby.

“Alright,” Raphael said calmly as he pulled on his gloves, his expression professional despite the familiar warmth in his eyes. “Let’s begin.”

The nurse moved into position, and he stepped between your legs.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed.

You hesitated, instinctively closing them, embarrassment rushing to your face despite everything.

He noticed immediately, one eyebrow lifting as a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he teased softly. “You’ve been spreading them for me for four years. Now you’re shy?”

“Raphael!” you protested, mortified.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t be. I’ve seen it all. Honestly, I’ve already memorized what it looks like.”

“Ahem.” The nurse cleared her throat sharply, cheeks flushed. “Mr. Laurent, can we focus and save the flirting for later?”

He straightened instantly. “Ah, right. My apologies.”

The teasing vanished, replaced by calm professionalism as he turned back to you, his voice gentle now.

“Alright,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. “Let me help you, so we can finally meet our little one.”