Damian’s POV

The recovery room was quiet in a way the rest of the hospital felt non existent. Not sterile quiet or frightening quiet, just soft calm. The lights were lowered, the curtains half-drawn, machines hummed gently in the corner, steady and rhythmic, as though they were breathing with her.

Damian sat in the chair right beside Evelyn’s bed, one arm curled securely around their newborn son.

He still couldn’t believe the weight in his arms.

Not heavy, not demanding, just warm, ...