seventy five
The hospital room was wrapped in a hush so soft that even the steady beeping of the monitor seemed distant. Pale sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over Delia’s face as she gazed down at the tiny bundle in her arms. Her daughter’s breathing was slow, rhythmic, perfect — each sigh a reminder that everything she had endured had finally led her here.
Mandy stood near the foot of the bed, tears in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter holding her newborn. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice trembling with awe. “Absolutely beautiful, Delia.”
Delia looked up, exhaustion etched into her features, but her eyes shone with quiet joy. “She’s everything I didn’t know I needed,” she murmured. “She makes all of it worth it.”
Mandy smiled, brushing a hand gently over Delia’s hair, just as she used to when Delia was a child. “You’ve been through hell and back, love. But look at you now — stronger, softer, and a mum to this precious little miracle.”
Delia let out a small laugh, though it cracked under the weight of emotion. “It doesn’t feel real yet. I keep waiting to wake up and have it all fall apart again.”
“It’s real,” Mandy assured her firmly. “And it’s yours to keep this time.”
Her gaze drifted to the baby’s face. “Have you told Thomas yet?”
Delia hesitated, her expression softening. “No,” she admitted. “But he should know. For everything he’s done, and everything we’ve been through… he still deserves to know he’s a father again. I don’t want anger or resentment to be the first thing our daughter grows up around.”
Mandy nodded, emotion swelling in her chest. “You’re doing the right thing, sweetheart.”
She leaned down, kissing Delia’s forehead before straightening. “I’ll go find him. He’s probably pacing the corridors by now.”
“Be gentle,” Delia whispered. “He’s had his share of pain too.”
“I know.” Mandy smiled, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “Rest, my love. I’ll bring him back to you.”
As the door clicked softly behind her mother, Delia exhaled, her body sinking deeper into the hospital bed. Her heart felt full — not just with love, but with something steadier, something peaceful.
Frank had been standing quietly by the window, watching the two of them, his arms folded loosely across his chest. As the silence settled again, he turned toward her, a small, genuine smile breaking through the seriousness in his eyes.
“She’s perfect,” he said softly, stepping closer.
Delia smiled faintly. “She is. I still can’t believe she’s mine.”
Frank chuckled under his breath, his voice low and warm. “I can. You’ve fought harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You deserve her — both of you deserve a calm life for once.”
Delia’s gaze lingered on him, a quiet fondness passing between them. “You’ve been here through everything, Frank. You didn’t have to be. You could’ve walked away so many times.”
“I didn’t want to,” he said simply, pulling a chair closer and sitting beside her. “You and that little one… you’ve become my reason to stay grounded.”
She blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. “Frank…”
He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing over the baby’s tiny hand, then up to Delia’s. “Listen,” he began, his voice steady, “I know she’s not mine by blood. But that doesn’t change what I feel. I want to be here, for both of you — not to replace anyone, not to claim something that isn’t mine, but because I care. Because I love you. And because I want to protect you both from whatever comes next.”
Delia’s breath caught, her heart aching in the best possible way. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted gently, his thumb tracing soft circles over her knuckles. “I don’t want you to face anything alone ever again.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned forward slightly, their foreheads almost touching. “You’ve already given me more peace than I ever thought I’d have again.”
He smiled — small, genuine, and full of feeling. “Then let me keep doing that.”
Frank leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It was slow and tender, filled with all the emotion they hadn’t yet put into words. When he pulled away, his eyes flicked down to the baby between them.
“She’s got your smile,” he murmured.
Delia laughed quietly, brushing her fingers over the baby’s cheek. “And her father’s stubbornness, I bet.”
Frank grinned. “Then she’s going to give us both trouble.”
“Good,” Delia said softly. “She deserves a little fire.”
As the light shifted across the room, Frank stayed by her side, one arm around her shoulders, the other resting gently over her daughter’s small form. For the first time in a long time, Delia didn’t feel haunted by the past — only hopeful for the future.