Chapter 66 Chapter 22.3
Desmond froze the moment he heard Heaven’s cries. The sound, raw, breaking, trembling, cut through the entire house. He rushed to the living room, but she wasn’t there. Panic shot through him. His eyes darted up the stairs, where the door to the nursery stood open.
His heart dropped.
He sprinted up the steps, two at a time.
When he reached the doorway, he found Heaven sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around one of their baby’s tiny shirts. She was shaking, her tears soaking through the fabric. Desmond felt something inside him tear apart. He had been bracing himself for this moment but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of her breaking.
He approached her slowly, terrified she might injure herself again.
“Heaven… please. Please stop crying,” he whispered, his voice cracking despite his efforts to stay calm. “It’s not good for you.”
He had held everything in for three days, every scream, every sob, every ounce of grief, but seeing her like this shattered whatever fragile strength he had left.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Heaven cried, her voice hoarse, trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me right away? Where is our baby? Where is Daryl?! Why am I the only one who came home? Where is my son, Desmond?!”
She tried to shout, but the pain in her abdomen held her voice back. Still, she hit him, weak but desperate, her fists falling against his chest, her grief pouring out with every strike.
Desmond didn’t move. He accepted every hit, every tremble of her hands. She wasn’t hurting him, she was drowning, and he would rather take the blows than let her drown alone.
“Where is my baby?” she choked out. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is he still at the hospital? Even if I forgot everything, you should have told me I gave birth! We could’ve visited him if… if he was in another room—”
Her tears were endless. Her voice shook with every word, as if her heart was shattering syllable by syllable. Desmond wanted to explain, to tell her the truth but how could he say it? How could he destroy her completely when she was already falling apart?
He finally gathered her into his arms, trying to still her movements. Her stitches wouldn’t survive this, he could feel her body trembling violently, her breathing ragged.
“I’m sorry,” Desmond whispered over and over, burying his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry, Heaven.”
But she was inconsolable.
“Tell me my baby is alive… please,” she begged. The plea was faint, exhausted, fading with every breath. “Please, Desmond… tell me he’s alive…”
Her strength slipped away with her tears. And before he could say anything else, Heaven’s body went limp, collapsing against him. She had fainted, her face buried in his chest, her fingers still clutching the tiny shirt.
Desmond held her tightly, his own tears finally breaking loose. For three days he had forced himself not to fall apart. Now, there was no stopping it.
He carried Heaven to their room and gently laid her on the bed. Her face was wet with tears. Desmond wiped them away with trembling hands.
“I’m sorry, Heaven,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I couldn’t protect our baby. I failed you both. If only I had gone with you… I should never have let you go alone.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, his heart twisting painfully. Their home, once filled with preparations, laughter, and excitement, felt cold now, hollow.
One month more. One more month and they would’ve held their son.
But life had ripped that future from them in an instant.
Desmond bowed his head, shaking as he cried.
Was he asking for too much? He only wanted a family. He only wanted to be a father. And just when he had finally embraced that desire, when he had finally let go of the past, life had snatched it away.
With a frustrated cry, he hit his own chest. Again and again. The pain didn’t lessen. It only grew heavier.
He thought of the hospital’s CCTV, the video he never watched. Zachary had only told him that nothing was captured. Heaven’s fall down the stairs wasn’t seen by anyone. Desmond had forgotten all about it because he had been focused on taking care of her.
Downstairs, he returned to the kitchen. The food he was cooking sat untouched, simmering quietly. He stared at it blankly.
The source of their happiness was gone.
“Why?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Why did you take him from me? I accepted him. I cared for them both. I did everything I could… wasn’t that enough? Why?!”
His shout echoed through the silent house before fading into a strangled sob.
Hours passed in a suffocating quiet. Heaven didn’t speak to him. She barely looked at him. She didn’t eat. She didn’t move.
And Desmond, already hollow, was terrified of pushing her deeper into grief.
The house felt different now. Heavy. Empty. A place that should’ve been filled with baby cries, with soft lullabies, with two excited parents preparing for their son.
Instead, it was filled with silence.
Desmond kept replaying everything in his mind, desperate to understand where he went wrong. He had been so ready, more than ready, to be a father. He had been excited, counting the days until he could finally hold his son in his arms. Was Daryl really not meant for them? He never once turned his back on his responsibility. Even if his marriage to Heaven had begun as something forced, he had slowly, genuinely embraced the idea of being a husband…and a father. He had wanted this. He had wanted them. So why did fate take his child away the moment he finally learned to cherish him?
Heaven eventually asked to go home to her parents’ house. She couldn’t stay here. The walls felt too heavy, every corner haunted with reminders of what had been lost.
Desmond didn’t want her to leave. He was terrified to let her go, terrified to be alone again. But he wanted her to heal more than he wanted anything else. If going home would help her breathe again, then he would endure it.
Heaven’s family still knew nothing. They rode in silence, both staring out the window, lost in their separate storms.
They were both broken.
And their happiness, the one they had waited for, fought for, hoped for, had disappeared before they even had the chance to hold it in their arms.