Chapter Two Hundred And Twenty Six

Chapter Two Hundred And Twenty Six
Camille’s POV

The house was quiet when Theo left for a meeting, the kind of silence that followed you like a blanket. I sat by the window with my hands folded gently over my stomach, letting the soft morning light rest on my skin.

Six weeks.

It still didn’t feel real.

My thoughts drifted, uninvited but familiar. Memories moved through me like shadows, not painful, just distant echoes of a life I once lived.

I remembered Miles shouting, calling me worthless, dragging me into a love that was built on conditions and dominance.
I remembered Sonia smirking as she whispered lies into every corner of my life.
I remembered the humiliation, the loneliness, the nights I cried in silence because I had no one.

I breathed out slowly.

That girl… the one who begged for scraps of affection… she didn’t live here anymore.

My mind shifted to Theo, the man who picked me up from the ruins I didn’t know how to escape.
The man who stood in front of bullets for me.
The man I almost lost when Miles fired at the altar.
The man who held my hand through every fear, every night terror, every tear.

And then… the day I became Mrs. Black.

My chest warmed at the memory.

I looked down again, gently cupping my stomach.

“I’ve been through fire,” I whispered softly, “but I survived. And now… you’re my light.”

A tender smile touched my lips before I could stop it.

That was when I heard the faint click of the bedroom door.

I didn’t look up immediately. I could feel him before I saw him, the calm in the air, the quiet strength that always walked with him.

Theo came toward me and knelt, placing his palm gently over mine.
Then he leaned forward and kissed my stomach, lingering there.

“How are my two doing today?” he murmured, voice low and full of affection. “I love you both… more than you’ll ever understand.”

I smiled, unable to stop it. “She’s fine.”

Theo’s head snapped up so fast I almost laughed.

“She?” His brows rose. “No, no… Camille, we are having a boy. Strong. Handsome. Just like me.”

I raised a brow. “We’re having a girl. Beautiful and brilliant. Just like her mother.”

Theo placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “You want to bet?”

“I never lose,” I teased.

He slid a hand behind my neck and kissed me, slow, deep, possessive, like he was claiming both laughter and breath at once.

“Neither do I,” he whispered against my lips.

I exhaled, leaning into him, feeling a sweet warmth spread through my chest. Our first gentle argument as parents… and somehow, it felt perfect.

“Camille,” he said softly.

I looked up.

His eyes held the same expression they always had when he looked at me, warm, steady, protective. But today there was something else… a kind of awe.

He stepped closer instead of sitting, sinking to his knees in front of me until his face aligned with my stomach, like he needed to be as near to us as possible.

I swallowed, emotion swelling in my throat.

He placed a hand over my belly, gentle, almost reverent, his thumb moving in small circles like he was soothing the baby through my skin.

“How are my two favorite people doing today?” he asked, voice low, threaded with tenderness.

The words wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

“We’re… okay,” I whispered.

Theo looked up at me, as if searching my expression for anything I wasn’t saying. Then he leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my stomach.

My breath hitched.

His lips moved slowly, like he was memorizing something.
Claiming something.
Loving something.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t speak. He just held my stomach with one hand and kissed it again, slower this time, deeper.

My eyes stung.

Theo lifted his face and rested his forehead against my belly. “I love you,” he whispered. “Both of you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

My hand slid into his hair, holding him close. I felt the weight of his words settle into my heart, quiet but powerful.

“Theo…” My voice broke softly.

He looked up again and rose to his feet slowly, placing both hands on either side of my face. His thumbs brushed my cheeks, wiping away tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

He leaned forward, his forehead touching mine.

“Whatever they tried to take from you,” he murmured, “they failed. You’re here. With me. And now we’re building something they can never destroy.”

My heart throbbed painfully, full of love.

He kissed me, slow, sure, and full of promises we didn’t have to speak.

I kissed him back, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. Theo deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to cup my waist, holding me as if the entire world was centered on that single moment.

When we finally pulled apart, he lifted my hand and pressed it to his chest, right over his heartbeat.

“This,” he whispered, “beats for you and for our baby.”

I felt heat rise in my chest, not passion or fear, but something deeper… softer.

Belonging.

Theo brushed a final kiss against my forehead and then knelt again, resting both hands on my stomach.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered to our baby. “You and your mother. Always.”

Emotion rose so fast I felt dizzy. I leaned forward and placed my hand over his.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For choosing me. For staying. For loving me.”

He looked up at me, eyes warm, almost shining. “There was never a world where I wouldn’t choose you again and again.”

We stayed like that, my hand over his, his hand over our child, wrapped in a quiet that didn’t hurt.

A quiet that healed.

The past had taken so much from me.
But this moment… this man… this child…
They were giving me everything back.