Chapter 208 My Angel | 101

Chapter 208 My Angel | 101
NOELLE

I surface like I've been dragged up from the bottom of the deep blue sea. My body feels... heavy and wrong. Like it doesn't belong to me. There's a warm, familiar weight on my hand.

"...Noelle?"

The voice is close. It's warm and motherly. Something soft brushes my face. A damp cloth.

"Sweetheart... come on. Wake up for me."

My lashes flutter. The light stings my eyes.

I groan softly, my throat dry. "Mmm..."

"There you go," she breathes, relief flooding her tone. "That's it—open your eyes, darling."

I force them open. Everything is blurry at first. Then it sharpens.

Danika is hovering over me, her eyes bright and wet at the same time, her smile trembling as she dabs my face again with the cloth.

"You're awake," she whispers. "Oh, thank the gods—you're awake."

My head feels heavy and my thoughts are sluggish.

"Mum?" I rasp.

Her smile widens instantly. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm right here."

I swallow, wincing slightly. Everything feels... off.

"How long..." My voice cracks. I try again. "How long was I out?"

She smiles painfully.

"...a little while."

A little while? My stomach drops. A strange, cold panic curls in my chest.

"...what does that mean?" I whisper, my voice rising slightly. "Like—days? Weeks?"

She hesitates. And that's all it takes for my heart to start racing.

"Oh my God—" I push up slightly, my head spinning. "Mum—how long? A year? Two? Why do I feel like this—something's wrong—"

"No, no—hey—" She presses a steady hand to my shoulder, easing me back gently. "Not that long. Breathe, sweetheart. Just—breathe."

"I feel weird," I whisper, panic rising quickly now. "My body feels—off…"

"It's been five months," she says softly.

"...what?"

"Five months," she repeats softly. "You've been asleep. Healing. We—we didn't know when you'd wake up."

Five months.

Five—

"That's not possible," I whisper. "That's—no, I—"

"Especially with your condition," she adds gently, and I frown.

"...what condition?"

She goes still. My heart skips a beat. And then I feel it. That heaviness again. My gaze lowers slowly.

I freeze at the sight of my stomach. It's...very round.

My brain glitches.

"What—" My voice jumps an octave. "WHAT—?!"

I bolt upright.

"WHAT IS THAT—?!"

My hands fly to my swollen belly.

"Oh my god—OH MY GOD—"

I stare at it, refusing to believe it's attached to me. This has to be some kind of hallucination.

"I—mum—WHY AM I—?!" I gesture wildly. "WHY AM I LIKE THIS?!"

Danika immediately dabs my face again, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

"I'm sorry—I'm so sorry," she says quickly. "We didn't know what to do either—we were just as shocked—"

"SHOCKED?!" I squeak. "I WAKE UP AND I'M—THIS—"

She takes a breath, steadying herself.

"You're seven months pregnant."

My brain just... stops. Seven. Months.

"...no," I whisper.

My hand presses more firmly against my stomach. It's real.

"...no way," I breathe, horrified and amazed.

My fingers tremble as they spread over the curve. Seven months.

I—

My throat tightens, and then something tugs gently at my hand. That weight from earlier.

I turn and everything else fades. Azren Lakewood is lying beside me. He's still... unconscious.

His hair is longer now, falling past his shoulders in soft dark waves. His face is peaceful, even in sleep, beautiful, and unchanged in all the ways that matter.

And our hands... my breath catches in my throat.

Our pinkies are hooked together. A tiny, stubborn promise.

My chest aches.

"...Azren," I whisper.

Danika exhales softly behind me. "He wouldn't let go," she smiles. "Not even when he was out cold."

My lips tremble. I tighten my pinky instinctively around his.

Dani lets out a soft, amused huff. "You two and that pinky promise," she teases gently.

I barely hear her. My focus is on him. On us.

My free hand drifts back to my stomach.

"...seven months," I whisper again.

My baby. Our baby.

Tears well up in my eyes. I shift closer, carefully, until I'm curled against his side. My head rests lightly against his shoulder, mindful of everything.

He's so warm. Thank goodness. But he feels... so fragile.

"...why isn't he waking up?" I ask softly, fear creeping back in.

"He's deeply depleted," Mum tells me. "More than we've ever seen. What he did that night... it drained him completely."

My fingers tighten around his.

"...is he going to be okay?" I whisper.

"Yes," she says, firmly this time. "He will be. He just needs time."

Time. Five months is already gone.

My throat tightens again.

I press closer to him, one hand still linked with his, the other resting protectively over my belly. Everything feels unreal. Too much.

"I'm here," I whisper against him, my voice trembling but steady enough. "I'm right here, baby."

My thumb brushes faintly against his hand.

"Wake up," I murmur softly. "You're missing everything."

....

I don't recognize my own body. For a second, I just stand there under the spray, frozen, breathing heavily as steam curls around me. My hands hover at my sides, afraid to touch anything.

It's all different. My gaze drops slowly, my breath catching as I take it in properly this time.

My...baby bump.

I let out a shaky breath, one trembling hand resting against the curve. The heat from the water slides over it, tracing every new line, every change I don't remember earning.

"I..." My voice cracks softly. "I don't even know you."

I swallow hard, dragging my hand up over my ribs and my chest. Everything feels fuller and more sensitive. My body isn't just mine anymore—it's shared.

A sob slips out before I can stiffle it.

I brace one hand against the tile, my head bowing under the water as it runs down my face, mixing with my tears.

"I always wanted this," I whisper. "I did..."

The words shake as they leave me.

"I wanted a mini me. I wanted—" My breath hitches. "I wanted us."

Another sob comes out.

"But I wasn't ready," I cry softly. "I didn't get to be ready."

I press both hands over my belly now.

"I didn't get to feel it start," I whisper. "Didn't get to watch it grow... didn't get to tell you..." My voice breaks completely. "You didn't even get to see it."

Azren.

My chest aches so hard it almost knocks the air out of me.

"I hope you wake up," I whisper, my eyes squeezing shut as tears fall harder. "You have to wake up. You have to see this. You'd love this. You'd—"

My voice dissolves into more sobs because I know he would. The way he talked about kids. The way his voice softened, as though the idea alone meant everything to him.

I drag in a shaky breath, forcing myself to stay steady.

"You can't miss this," I mutter stubbornly. "Do you hear me? You can't."

.....

By the time I step out, I feel like I've lived ten different lives in one shower. The robe is soft when I wrap it around myself, but even that feels different. It doesn't sit the same. It doesn't close the same.

Everything has shifted.

I move slowly as I pad out of the bathroom, one hand instinctively supporting my belly now. My balance feels off. My centre of gravity... wrong.

"Okay," I mutter under my breath. "This is going to take a while getting used to."

I make it back to the bed and sink down beside him with a soft exhale.

He hasn't moved.

My gaze softens immediately as I look at him.

"Hey," I whisper.

My hand reaches out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. I study his face for a moment, huffing softly.

"You know..." I start, narrowing my eyes at him. "This is your fault."

My lips twitch.

"I mean it," I continue, poking lightly at him. "You did this to me."

I gesture down at myself.

"Look at me. I'm—" I glance at my stomach. "I'm swollen, Azren. Swollen."

A tiny, incredulous laugh escapes me.

"I know we talked about it. I know," I mumble. "But this is very different from talking about it."

I carefully lean over to press a kiss to his forehead.

"It's unexpected," I whisper. "Very, very unexpected."

I keep stroking his hair, slower now, my thumb brushing against his temple. Then I feel a tiny, distinct kick against my ribs. Then two more.

My hand flies to my stomach instantly, my eyes widening.

"Oh my god," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Did you feel that? That was—"

I laugh weakly through them, shaking my head through my tears.

"That's not fair," I choke softly. "That's so not fair."

My voice cracks as I lean closer to him.

"You're supposed to be here for that," I whisper, pressing my forehead against his arm. "You're supposed to feel that. You're supposed to see this."

My hand grips his shirt lightly.

"It's not fair," I whisper again, smaller this time.

Suddenly, my husband lets out a faint groan. I freeze.

"...Azren?"

My heart starts racing. His fingers twitch.

"Oh heavens—" I lean closer instantly, one hand grabbing his. "Azren—?"

His breathing deepens and my pulse spikes so hard it feels like my veins might burst.

"Come on," I whisper urgently, tears still clinging to my lashes. "Come on, baby—"

His brows pull together faintly as he lets out a small, strained sound.

My grip tightens.

"That's it," I breathe. "That's it—stay with me—"

His chest rises a little more, his head shifting slightly against the pillow.

Time slows.

"Azren..." I whisper desperately. "Please—"

His long lashes tremble. Then they lift.

For a moment, his eyes are unfocused, lost somewhere between sleep and somewhere far away. Then they land on me. And he gasps as though the air has just been knocked out of him.

"...Noelle...?" he chokes out.