Chapter 377

[ 1,008 words ]

Julian’s POV

Katia’s hand slipped from mine the moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind us. She pressed a palm to her stomach and took a shaky step toward the bathroom.

“I thought the sickness had ended,” I said, concern already tightening my voice.

Katia didn’t answer. She took another step and swayed. I moved fast, catching her before she could fall. I scooped her up into my arms without a word and carried her straight into the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she started throwing up. I held her hair back with one hand and rubbed slow circles on her back with the other, my jaw clenched tight.

When the wave passed, she slumped against the side of the tub, breathing hard. I wet a towel and wiped her face gently. “Easy,” I murmured. “I’ve got you p>

She tried to stand, but her legs gave out. I caught her again. This time she didn’t stay conscious. Her eyes rolled back and her body went limp in my arms.

“Katia.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. I lowered her carefully to the cool tile floor, checking her pulse and her breathing. She was still breathing. That was something. But she wasn’t waking up.

Panic started to rise in my chest, fast and ugly. We were in a foreign country. I didn’t know the hospitals here. I didn’t know the language well enough to navigate an emergency on my own. The only person I had any contact with was the woman we had hired to watch Aiden during our outings—a kind middle-aged lady the hotel had recommended. I didn’t even have her number saved under a real name, just “Aiden’s sitter p>

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and called her. She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s Katia. She’s sick. She threw up and then she fainted. I need help. I don’t know the hospitals here. I don’t know who to call p>

The woman listened quietly, then spoke in calm, accented English. “Don’t go to the hospital yet, Mr. Windsor. My daughter is a doctor. She can come to the hotel. It will be faster and less stressful. I will call her now p>

I exhaled, some of the tightness in my chest easing. “Thank you. Please. As fast as she can p>

I stayed on the floor with Katia, cradling her head in my lap, until the doctor arrived twenty minutes later. She was a calm, efficient woman in her late thirties who introduced herself simply as Dr. Park. She checked Katia’s vitals, asked a few quick questions about symptoms and medical history, then helped me move her to the bed.

After a thorough examination, Dr. Park looked up at me with a small, knowing smile.

“She is pregnant,” she said gently. “Six weeks, I would guess. The nausea and fainting are common in the first trimester, especially after a long, active day. She needs rest. No stress. Plenty of fluids and light food when she wakes. I will give her something mild for the nausea and the tiredness. She should stay in bed tomorrow p>

I nodded slowly. I already knew. I had known for weeks, even though Katia had never said the words out loud. I had seen the changes in her body, the way she avoided certain smells, the exhaustion she tried to hide. But hearing it from a doctor still hit me in the chest.

“I know,” I said quietly. “Thank you p>

Dr. Park left instructions and a small supply of medicine, then slipped out as quietly as she had arrived. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Katia’s face in the low light. She looked pale but peaceful now. I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and stayed there, just breathing, until the door to our room creaked open.

Aiden stood in the doorway in his pajamas, eyes wide and wet with tears.

“Daddy,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Is Mommy going to be okay p>

My heart twisted. I stood up and crossed the room, crouching in front of my son.

“Come here, buddy.” I lifted Aiden gently and carried him to the bed, settling him carefully beside Katia without waking her. “Mommy is going to be fine. She just needs some rest p>

Aiden climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged, staring at his mother’s still face. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“Then why is she not waking up?” he asked, his voice small.

“Because Mommy needs to rest, buddy. She will be fine. I promise p>

Aiden wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, but more tears came. “Is Mommy like this because of climbing the tower? Or watching me ride the roller coaster? Did I make her sick p>

I felt the words like a punch. I hadn’t expected that. I reached out and gently turned Aiden’s face toward me so the boy would look at me instead of at Katia.

“No, buddy. It is not your fault. Not even a little. Mommy loves every second she spends with you. The tower and the roller coaster made her happy because they made you happy. This is not because of you p>

Aiden sniffled, still looking doubtful. I thought for a moment, then decided the only thing that might truly help right now was the truth—or at least part of it.

“So, Mommy is sick because she is tired,” I said carefully, “and probably because your little sister or your little brother is making her feel tired right now p>

Aiden blinked, confusion cutting through the tears. “Sister p>

I smiled softly and nodded. “You are going to be a big brother, buddy p>

For a second Aiden just stared at me. Then his whole face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. The tears stopped. His eyes went wide and bright.

“A baby?” he whispered, like it was the best secret in the world.

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