Epilogue
Epilogue
Arian
For a long while, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched so thin it hurt to breathe. Then Gabi sighed, breaking it first.
“I’m sorry for everything I did to you, Gabriel,” she said in a trembling voice. “I really tried to look out for you, but I went about it the wrong way. Dad was right—I should have supported you, because you always had my back even when I didn’t ask for it. I hurt you and made you more miserable than Lucille ever did.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly. “You have every right to hate me, every right not to forgive me. But… I’m really happy for you, Gabriel. You stayed true to your heart and didn’t waver in your love for her. You knew what you wanted, and you went for it anyway. I miss my brother—and I want him back.”
My throat tightened at her words. I hadn’t realized how deep their wounds ran until that moment.
Gabriel said nothing for a beat, his jaw working as he fought something inside him. Then he lifted his hand and flicked her forehead, a gesture so childlike and tender it made me gasp.
Gabi blinked, startled, then laughed through her tears and flicked him back. The corner of his lips twitched.
“Dollophead,” he muttered, pulling her into his arms. “I missed you too.”
They held each other for what felt like forever, and I felt tears sting my own eyes. Family—it was fragile, flawed, but still worth saving.
When Gabi extended a hand toward me, I rose from the sofa and joined their embrace.
“Thank you, Arian,” she sniffled. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said, shaking my head. “Thank you for accepting me.”
Gabriel slipped an arm around my neck, pulling me close as he pressed a kiss to my temple. His voice was low, meant only for me. “I love you,” he whispered.
My heart fluttered as I looked up at him, feeling every ounce of his sincerity. “I love you too,” I breathed.
And in that moment—surrounded by love, forgiveness, and family—I finally felt like I belonged.
Two years later
“This can’t be right,” I muttered under my breath, my voice trembling. “It’s impossible.”
In my hands were two pregnancy tests—both positive. My stomach churned, and for a long moment, I just sat there staring at the pink lines as if they’d morph into something else if I looked long enough. I had been feeling nauseous, tired, and light-headed for weeks, but I had blamed it on stress—from juggling schoolwork and being a wife. It seemed logical at the time. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Gabriel had insisted I take some entrance exams, and to my own surprise, I’d passed with flying colors. He’d enrolled me in the same university he’d graduated from, believing it would help me grow, challenge me. I was studying Business Administration—his world, his dream for us—to someday join Emerson Cruz Group or Cruz Tech. But it hadn’t been easy. Between coursework, exams, and maintaining a home, I’d been stretched thin. And now… this?
“Just great,” I muttered, my heart thudding painfully. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Babe, I’m home!” Gabriel’s voice floated from the bedroom, warm and familiar. I froze, panic clawing at my throat. “Babe?” he called again when I didn’t respond.
“In here!” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The bathroom door swung open a second later, and Gabriel stepped in. His eyes softened when he saw me sitting on the edge of the bathtub, but the moment he noticed how pale I looked, his expression shifted to concern. He crossed the room quickly and crouched in front of me.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” His voice was gentle but edged with worry.
He followed my gaze down to the items in my trembling hands, and I saw the moment recognition hit him. His brow furrowed. “Is that…?” His voice trailed off.
I swallowed hard. “I’ve been feeling off lately,” I admitted. “And I noticed I’d missed my periods, so a friend of mine got me these tests and…” I looked down again, tears stinging my eyes. “Two lines.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then he straightened abruptly and pulled me up by the hand. “Let’s go to the hospital,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
My thoughts were a whirlwind as we drove there. I wanted to believe it, but I couldn’t forget the words of the doctors who had told me—twice—that I would never carry a child. Part of me had already made peace with that. I had learned to smile through the ache, to love Gabriel enough for both of us, to pretend that not being able to give him children didn’t make me feel broken. But now… could fate have changed its mind?
At the hospital, my blood and urine samples were taken, and soon after, we were ushered into Dr. Sandra’s office. When she entered, she greeted us with a kind smile and settled behind her desk.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said. “Your test result is out and… congratulations, Mrs. Cruz. You’re pregnant.”
The words hung in the air like a melody too beautiful to believe. I blinked twice, certain I’d misheard. Pregnant? I turned to Gabriel, who looked just as shocked, his eyes wide and glistening.
I remembered sitting in this same position years ago, hearing a doctor tell me my womb would never sustain life. I had watched Gabriel’s hope crumble then, and mine had gone with it. Now, hearing the same word—pregnant—from another doctor felt like an impossible miracle.
“How’s this possible?” Gabriel managed to ask. “Are you one hundred percent sure, doctor?”
“Yes, Mr. Cruz,” Dr. Sandra replied, smiling. “Your wife is very much pregnant. Her HCG levels are extremely high, and given her symptoms—dizziness, nausea, missed periods—it’s consistent with pregnancy. Let’s do a scan to determine how far along she is.”
Gabriel nodded, his hand finding mine and squeezing it. His grip was firm, but his hands trembled slightly. I could feel his heart racing through his fingertips.
When I lay back on the bed, Dr. Sandra spread a cool gel across my abdomen and turned on the ultrasound machine. The rhythmic hum filled the air, and I held my breath as she moved the probe slowly over my skin.
“There’s your baby,” she said softly, pointing at a tiny speck on the monitor.
Then came a sound so pure, so alive—it took my breath away. A steady, rapid heartbeat filled the room. Tears pooled in my eyes before I even realized I was crying.
“Oh, God,” Gabriel gasped beside me. He gripped my hand tighter, his own tears falling freely now. “Finally.”
“Finally,” I echoed, smiling through the blur of my tears. My miracle. Our miracle.
\~~~~~~
Months Later
“Just a little more, Arian, and it’ll be over,” Dr. Sandra encouraged, her voice both kind and commanding.
I wanted to scream that it wasn’t “just a little more.” I’d been in labor for ten excruciating hours, and I could no longer feel my legs. My throat was raw from screaming, my vision blurry with exhaustion. Every muscle in my body burned, but the thought of giving up wasn’t an option—not when Gabriel’s hand was in mine, his voice anchoring me to this moment.
“You’re almost there, my love,” he whispered into my ear. I barely heard him through the fog of pain, but I felt him—the warmth of his breath, the tremor in his voice.
Another contraction hit, sharp and consuming, and I screamed again, my body arching involuntarily.
“That’s it! I can see the head! You can do it, Arian!” Dr. Sandra called out.
Somewhere deep within me, I found the last ounce of strength I didn’t know I still had. I pushed with everything left in me, and then—like music—came the cry of my baby.
My head fell back against the bed, and I let out a broken sob.
“You did it, my love,” Gabriel whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.
“Congratulations, mommy and daddy,” Dr. Sandra said warmly. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”
The nurse brought the swaddled infant over, and Gabriel took him into his arms with a reverence that made my heart ache. The look on his face—pure awe, pure love—was something I would never forget.
“He’s so beautiful,” he murmured, brushing a tear from his cheek. Then he placed our son gently on my chest, and I felt the weight of him—soft, warm, real.
“You were wonderful, Arian,” Gabriel said softly. “You’re wonderful. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the universe.”
“Ditto,” I whispered, my heart overflowing.
“I love you,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to my sweaty forehead, then another on our baby’s. “I love you both so much.”
After much deliberation, we settled on Giovanni Michelangelo Brillantes Cruz for our baby boy—a name that carried grace, strength, and meaning.
Two years later, our home was filled with even more laughter and chaos when I was blessed with two miracles—our daughters, Giovanna Sofia Brillantes Cruz and Giulia Isabella Brillantes Cruz.
And though life would never be perfect, in the quiet moments between their giggles and Gabriel’s whispered “I love you,” I knew one truth with absolute certainty—we had, indeed, found our happily ever after.
THE END.