CHAPTER 311

CHAPTER 311
ALEXANDER

I took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the twinge in my leg, the folder from Rogers clutched so tightly I'd already bent the corner.

I hadn't let him finish the full explanation before I started moving. The second he'd said stable, everything else had turned into background noise.

Stable. Strong heartbeat. Baby okay. Those were the only words my brain had bothered to retain.

“Thank you,” I muttered under my breath, not entirely sure whether I was addressing God, Rogers, or medical science in general.

“Seriously. Thank you, God.”

I quickened my pace. “Excellent response time. Five stars. Would recommend.”

I glanced toward the ceiling as though God might be personally monitoring customer satisfaction.

“Could've done without the five-day anxiety package, though. Bit excessive. Maybe look into shortening that part of the customer experience next time.”

I took the next few steps faster, barely noticing the ache in my leg.

“And I haven't forgotten our deal. Church. Charity. Occasional good behaviour.
Mostly occasional.”

My mouth twitched. “I'm not going to become a completely different man overnight. Let's not get carried away.”

I glanced upward again. “And before you get any ideas, I'm still not singing in a choir. I have limits.”

I pushed through the door and headed down the corridor.

“See? I'm already compromising.”
Another beat. “Honestly, God, you're getting a pretty good deal here...and ah Amen”

I nearly took the bedroom door off its hinges pushing it open.

And found my wife — my pregnant, supposedly bedridden, strictly-under-doctor's-orders wife — standing by the window.

Not sitting. Not reclining. Standing, laughing so hard she could barely breathe, one hand braced against the sill while the other held an entire chocolate bar halfway to her mouth.

Alexis stood beside her, apparently having decided that aiding and abetting my wife's criminal behavior fell squarely under sister-in-law duties.

Alina was barefoot, hair a complete mess, nightgown crooked, looking far too pleased with herself for a woman explicitly instructed to remain horizontal at all times.

She took another bite of chocolate. Then laughed again.

Something in my brain short-circuited. "Wife!"

Her head snapped toward me. I stared at her. She stared at me.

Alexis took a very sensible step backward, the way smart women do right before an explosion.

"What the fuck—"

Her eyes went wide, and then, remembering her legs weren't supposed to be participating in today's activities, she wobbled, free hand flying to the windowsill.

The chocolate stayed firmly in the other hand, priorities apparently intact even mid-crisis.

Guilt flooded her face in real time. "This isn't what it looks like."

I looked slowly around the room, then back at her. "Really."

"Yes."

"You're standing."

"I can explain."

"By the window."

"Yes."

"While on complete bed rest."

"Okay, when you list it out loud like that, it does sound bad."

"Wife."

“Fine.” She lifted the chocolate in surrender. “It’s exactly what it looks like. But in my defense, my back was killing me from lying down for hours, I needed to stretch, I needed some fresh air, and Alexis said going to the window wouldn’t kill me.”

“I did not say that.” Alexis crossed her arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“I said you could look out the window. There’s a very important legal distinction.”

Alina pointed accusingly at her. “You said, and I quote, ‘It’s only a few steps.’”

“Because it was.”

“You knew I was going to stand.”

“I had faith in your ability to make your own terrible decisions.”

I stared at both of them.

“You're sister said I could stand.”

Alexis immediately shook her head. “I said you could look.”

“You implied standing.”

“I implied absolutely nothing.” She lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m taking the fifth. Effective immediately.”

Alina gave me a tiny, apologetic smile. "Technically I'm standing very safely."

My eye twitched. "You are supposed to be on bed rest." My voice climbed an octave I hadn't used since the warehouse.

"Bed. Rest. Do either of those words mean anything to either of you, or are they just decorative at this point?"

Neither answered. I pointed at the bed like it was a crime scene diagram.

"You had a hemorrhage five days ago. You are supposed to be lying down. Horizontally. Unmoving. Like a very beautiful, very stubborn Greek statue that occasionally demands chocolate under duress."

Alina's lips twitched. I caught it immediately. "Don't laugh."

"I wasn't."

I turned on Alexis instead. "And you. You're supposed to be the responsible."

"I am responsible."

"You helped my wife escape her bed."

"I helped her reach the window. There is a meaningful legal distinction between escape and relocation."

"That's the same sentence with a better publicist."

Alina giggled. I looked back at her. "And you."

She straightened immediately. "Yes?"

"Back in bed. Now."

She sighed, dramatic as a dying stage actress, sliding away from the window with the reluctance of a woman being escorted off a throne mid-reign. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Don't you Magesty me!"

“Sorry. Your Extremely Worried, Deeply Unhinged, overbearing Majesty.”

I closed my eyes. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

"But still...You love us," Alexis said cheerfully.

I opened my eyes and looked at my wife. "Unfortunately."

Her smile widened. "Very unfortunately."

Alexis rolled her eyes hard enough I was fairly certain she strained something.

"Seriously, bro. She was standing for maybe ninety seconds, tops, and I was right there the entire time, ready to catch her if she so much as swayed. I'm almost a medical professional."

"You stitched my leg with a sewing kit."

"And did a phenomenal job, might I remind you, given the tools available."

"That's not the point—"

"Wait a minute — Alexander." Alina's voice cut through, her eyes dropping to the folder under my arm, cheeks still flushed from laughing.

Despite everything — despite the small heart attack I'd just survived — some of the fury in my chest melted the instant she looked at me like that.

"You have news. I can see it on your face. Tell me before I actually die of suspense instead of standing."

I crossed the room in three strides, folder tucked under my arm, and swept her up off her feet before she could get a single syllable of protest out, one arm braced under her knees, the other supporting her back.

"Alexander—" A startled laugh, arms flying around my neck on instinct. "I can walk."

"I want you fully horizontal before I say another word."

"I'm not made of glass, Alexander."

"I'm aware. Glass doesn't argue this much."

"I can't believe you want me flat on my back for a medical update, like I'm—"

"Humor me." I carried her the three steps to the bed, lowered her down with far more care than the short distance required, then fluffed the pillow behind her with more force than strictly necessary.

She huffed but let me arrange her — back supported, legs elevated, blanket to her waist.

"There." I sat carefully beside her. "Fully horizontal. Fully safe. Fully—"

"Fully done being managed, if you don't tell me the news in the next five seconds." She reached for the folder. I pulled it just out of range, earning an offended gasp. "Alexander."

Alexis, still hovering near the window like she hadn't just been caught red-handed, cleared her throat. "Should I leave, or—"

“No. Stay. If he's about to give me another lecture, I want someone here to confirm I'm being emotionally oppressed.”
I gave her a flat look.

“Emotionally oppressed?”

“Yes.”

“I'm trying to keep you in bed.”

“Exactly. Oppression. Now tell me..”

"Rogers reviewed the latest scan this morning." I cleared my throat. "The bleeding's fully resolved. No signs of ongoing complications. Heart rate's strong, development's tracking exactly where it should be for how far along you are."

Her breath caught. "And?"

"And—" My own voice broke slightly, and I didn't bother hiding it this time. "He said the pregnancy's stable, Alina. Not just viable anymore. Stable."

For a full second she just stared, like she needed to hear it twice before her brain allowed it to be real.

Then she burst into tears and threw both arms around my neck so fast I nearly toppled backward off the bed.

"Oh my God." Muffled against my shoulder, wet with crying and laughing tangled together in a way that made no logical sense and somehow made perfect sense given the last five days. "Oh my God, Alexander—"

"I know."

"The baby's okay."

"The baby's okay."

Alexis, by the window, let out a small, watery sound of her own, swiping quickly at her eyes like she could pretend she hadn't just gotten emotional over someone else's ultrasound.

"Okay, I'm just going to — give you two a minute." She slipped toward the door, pausing to add, "Congratulations, by the way. Both of you. Truly." Then, because she apparently couldn't resist ruining a tender moment,

"Also, Alexander — for the record, she only stood for ninety seconds. I want that in the official file, in case this comes up in future arguments."

"Out," I said, without any real heat behind it.

She grinned and slipped out, leaving us alone, Alina still half-collapsed against my chest, tears soaking through my shirt, both of us shaking with relief neither of us had let ourselves fully feel until now.

"Stable," she whispered again, like she needed to say it a third time to make it land.

"Stable," I confirmed, voice rougher than intended.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes red and swollen and absolutely radiant despite it.

"I need to—" She tried swinging her legs off the bed already. "I need to move, celebrate, do something, I've been furniture for five days and now I finally get to—"

"No." I caught her shoulders, easing her back before she could launch a second escape attempt in one afternoon.

"You need to stay exactly where you are."

"What? You just said stable."

"Stable. Not cleared." I kept my voice gentle but immovable, because I already knew exactly how this next part went.

"Rogers wants you on modified rest a few more days. Light movement only. No excitement, no exertion, no—" I glanced pointedly toward the door.

"No more reconnaissance missions to the window."

"Fine." She flopped back against the pillows with the exact weight of a woman conceding under protest. "But I want it on record I'm extremely displeased."

"Noted."

"Extremely."

"I heard you."

"And I want more chocolate. The good kind. Not whatever sad rationed square Alexis keeps handing me like she's running a black market out of the pantry."

I laughed — unguarded, rough, scraping out of me with everything I'd been holding onto for five days. "Chocolate. Fine. Whatever you want."

She smiled, exhaustion and joy tangled together, and guided my hand down to rest over her stomach, the way it had every day since we'd found out.

"Both of you did the hard part," I murmured, pressing my lips to her temple. "The rest is easy."

"You've clearly never met yourself," she said, laughing weakly. "Nothing about you has ever been easy, Alexander."

"Fair point."

Her fingers tightened around mine. "But I'm glad it's you. Doing this with me. Whatever comes next."

I looked at her — exhausted, relieved, radiant, mine — and felt something settle fully into place in my chest for the first time in five long, terrifying days.

"Always," I said. "Both of you. For the rest of my life."