THE UNIVERSE AND REWARDS

THE UNIVERSE AND REWARDS

Lena’s POV

The world didn’t stop spinning after I said yes.

If anything, it spun faster.

Damien’s arms wrapped around me, solid and warm and real, and the room exploded into sound—applause, cheers, whistles, people shouting our names.

Cameras flashed. Someone cried loudly. Someone else laughed. I think Mia screamed something incoherent. I couldn’t tell.

All I knew was that my chest felt too full.

Too much happiness.

Too much shock.

Too much everything.

Damien pressed his forehead to mine, smiling like a man who had just won the entire world.

“You said yes,” he breathed, like he needed to hear it again to believe it.

“I said yes,” I whispered back, laughing and crying at the same time.

My knees went weak.

At first, I thought it was just emotion. Adrenaline. The kind of joy that makes your body forget how gravity works. I tightened my grip on his jacket, smiling up at him.

Then the room tilted.

Hard.

My smile faltered. “Damien,” I murmured, my voice suddenly distant even to my own ears.

He felt it instantly. His hands tightened around my waist. “Lena?”

The lights overhead blurred. The chandelier fractured into a thousand glowing pieces. The applause turned into noise—too loud, too sharp, pressing against my skull.

“I think…” I swallowed, my mouth dry. “I think I need to sit down.”

Someone was suddenly at my side. Marcus. His hand hovering near my elbow. “Whoa—Lena, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically. “I’m just—”

The word never finished.

My vision tunneled.

Black crept in from the edges, slow and insistent, like the world gently shutting its eyes. My head pounded. My stomach twisted. My heart raced like it was trying to escape my chest.

“I’m dizzy,” I whispered.

Damien’s face drained of color. “Hey. Hey, look at me.”

I tried.

The room lurched again.

And then I wasn’t standing anymore.

Strong hands caught me before I hit the floor. Someone shouted my name. Someone else cursed. I felt myself lifted, cradled, the sensation strange and distant, like it was happening to someone else.

“Lena?” Damien’s voice was panicked now. “Lena, baby, stay with me.”

I wanted to tell him I was fine.

I wanted to reassure him.

But the noise was too loud. The lights too bright. My body felt heavy and light at the same time, like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.

“I can’t hear,” I whispered, even though I could. “Everything’s too loud.”

That was when the darkness took me completely.

I came back in pieces.

Voices first.

Urgent. Overlapping.

Then movement—being wheeled, rushed, the air colder, cleaner.

“Blood pressure’s low.”

“She fainted at the event.”

“Is she pregnant?”

The word pregnant drifted past me like smoke, not fully registering.

My eyes fluttered open just as we reached bright white doors.

Damien was right there, his face hovering above me, terrified and fierce and utterly undone. “She’s right here,” he said sharply to someone. “I’m not leaving her.”

“I’m okay,” I tried to say, but it came out slurred.

A nurse smiled gently. “We need to take her from here, sir.”

Damien shook his head immediately. “No. I’m staying.”

Another nurse stepped in, calm but firm. “We’ll take good care of her. You can see her soon, I promise.”

His hands tightened in mine like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

I looked past him and saw Noah.

Marcus was holding him, one arm wrapped protectively around his small body. Noah’s eyes were wide, scared, searching.

“Mom?” he called softly.

My heart cracked.

“I’m here,” I said weakly. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”

Damien leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you,” he said fiercely. “You hear me? I love you. I’m right here.”

“I love you too,” I whispered.

Then they were pulling me away.

The doors swung shut, and the last thing I saw was Damien standing there, helpless, watching me disappear.

The hospital room was quiet in a way that felt unreal after the chaos.

Monitors beeped softly.

A nurse adjusted something at my arm.

My head still ached, a dull, throbbing pressure that made it hard to focus.

“Do you feel nauseous?” the nurse asked.

“A little,” I admitted. “And dizzy. And… tired.”

She nodded like it made perfect sense. “We’re just going to run a few tests, okay?”

Time blurred.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened. Had I not eaten enough? Was it stress? Too much excitement?

The door opened.

A doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, smiling.

“Well,” she said gently, “that explains it.”

My stomach dropped. “Explains what?”

She looked at me over the top of the clipboard, her smile widening. “You’re pregnant.”

The words landed softly.

Too softly.

“Oh,” I said dumbly.

“And,” she continued, flipping a page, “it appears you’re having twins.”

The room went completely still.

Twins.

I laughed. I think I laughed. A breathless, disbelieving sound tore out of me before I could stop it.

“Twins?” I repeated.

“Yes,” the doctor said warmly. “Early, but very clear. The fainting was likely due to a combination of low blood pressure, stress, and excitement.”

My hands flew to my stomach.

Pregnant.

Again.

Twins.

The door burst open.

Damien.

His eyes were wild, searching, terrified—until they landed on my face.

I smiled at him.

A shaky, stunned, joyful smile.

“What?” he demanded, already at my side.

“What did they say? Are you okay?”

I nodded, tears spilling over. “I’m okay.”

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“Because,” I whispered, laughing through tears, “apparently the universe decided to reward me.”

He frowned. “Reward you how?”

I took a breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

He froze.

“And,” I added softly, “we’re having twins.”

For one second, Damien looked like his brain completely shut down.

Then his face transformed.

Shock.

Joy.

Disbelief.

Love—so much love it was almost painful to witness.

“Twins?” he breathed.

I nodded.

He laughed—a broken, breathless sound—and pulled me into his arms, careful but desperate, kissing my hair, my temple, my cheeks.

“Oh my God,” he whispered over and over. “Oh my God.”

I pressed my face into his chest, crying freely now. “I fainted right after you proposed,” I sniffed.

“I’m so sorry.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes shining. “You could have fainted, screamed, set the building on fire,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t care.”

He kissed me again, slow and reverent. “You’re carrying our babies.”

I laughed softly, overwhelmed. “Babies,” I repeated. “Plural.”

He rested his forehead against mine, smiling like the happiest man alive. “We’re going to be okay,” he said. “Better than okay.”

I closed my eyes, letting the moment settle into my bones.

Was the universe really this kind?

I didn’t know.

But for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.