You wake to the soft beeping of machines, the faint hum of air vents, and the sterile bite of hospital air. Everything feels heavy. Your body, your eyelids, your thoughts, but you’re alive. You know it the moment you feel the warmth of a hand holding yours.

Stefano.

You blink slowly, your vision clearing just enough to see him sitting beside you. His eyes are red-rimmed, his hair a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it all night. When he notices you’re awake, he forces a small smile.

“Hey, amore,” he says, voice quiet, a little broken around the edges. “How do you feel?”

Your lips are dry, your throat scratchy, but you manage a faint smile back. Your fingers squeeze his weakly. “Tired,” you murmur. “But okay… I think.”

And then it hits you. The baby.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. You look up at him, hope flaring sharp and desperate. “Was he okay?”

Stefano freezes. Just for a heartbeat, but it’s enough. His smile falters, his gaze drops to the floor. His lips part like he’s going to speak, but no sound comes out. The silence between you swells, thick and unbearable.

You see it then in his eyes when he finally looks back at you. The pain. The devastation he’s been trying to hide.

And you already know.

But still, your voice trembles out. “Stef?”

He swallows hard, his hand finding its way to your hair. His touch is tender, but it shakes. “I chose you,” he says, and the words break apart as they leave him. “They… they could only save one. And I chose you.”

The world tilts, then goes unbearably still. Your breath catches. Stefano leans forward, pressing his forehead to your hand as silent tears slip free.

You stare at the ceiling, the sharp white light blurring in your vision, your chest hollow and aching. And in that crushing, ringing silence… your heart breaks in two.