Chapter 25 – Celine
Six Months Later
Everything had returned to the way it used to be. We were back at the mansion again, picking up the pieces of our lives shattered by the war. Our enemies had been dealt with, and at last, peace was gradually returning.
My belly was growing at a steady pace, and I was happy for how far we’d come as a couple. It had been tough, and the journey wasn’t at all smooth. Yet, against all odds, we still refused to be shaken by the storm.
That was until my health issues started.
At first, I didn’t think much of it: weight loss, aching joints, and the recurring dizziness. I believed it was just the side effects of my pregnancy. But with each passing day, I felt weaker, and the pains in my body grew worse.
I barely ate, hardly slept at night, and my head felt heavy all the time. I didn’t tell Artur about this until I could no longer bear the pain. Instantly, he suggested we see a doctor.
The results were inconclusive for some reason, but I was given some drugs to help with the pain. And for a while, it worked. Although we had to keep visiting the hospital almost all the time for regular check-ups.
I never missed an appointment, and no matter how tight his schedule was, Artur always went with me. He was becoming the ideal man for me, the perfect father for our unborn child.
Unlike before, he no longer hid how much he cared about me. Everyone could tell that the baby and I had become his top priority.
He became my shadow, following me wherever I went—every doctor’s appointment. His presence alone was enough to keep me going. Whenever it was time to rest, he was always there to put me to sleep.
As much as he tried to hide it, I could see the worry in his eyes. He was afraid for the baby and me. On several occasions, I teased him for worrying too much, even though, deep down, I was worried too.
I was more afraid than he was because lately, the baby had been moving less each day. And that was concerning to me.
Also, all my dreams were negative. Whenever I closed my eyes to sleep, I saw the same thing: a river of blood and a body covered in snow.
It was becoming unsettling, considering that it was the only dream I’d been having for weeks now. Although I had no idea what it meant, I knew for sure that it wasn’t anything good.
Blood.
A body buried in snow.
That had got to be a bad omen.
A part of me wanted to believe that it was nothing serious. That it was just the trauma of all the violence and chaos I’d witnessed in the last few months.
But that didn’t explain why I kept having the same dream almost every night for weeks. Was it some kind of spiritual message? Was it a warning? Or was it just a side effect of the drugs I was taking?
Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. At all.
One night, I was fast asleep when a sharp pain in my belly woke me up. It felt like my intestines were being stabbed with a knife.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Artur jolted awake, eyes flashing with concern. “What is it? What’s happening?”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t describe the feeling. But the pain was unbearable.
“Konstantin, get the car!” he yelled, carrying me in his strong arms.
“What’s going on?!” Hilda barged in, worried.
“I don’t know. I’m taking her to the hospital.” The urgency in his tone was clear as crystal.
I began gasping, struggling to breathe as the voices around me started fading away.
“Hold on!” he yelled, racing down the hallway.
My vision became hazy, my head pounding loudly as he sprinted through the corridor.
“Stay with me, Celine!”
His voice echoed, anchoring me to reality. However, with each passing second, it became harder to stay awake. My eyelids were heavy, my vision was blurry, and my mind was drifting away.
Then blank.
Nothing.
Absolute darkness.
***
By the time I woke up, I was in the hospital, the EKG beeping steadily beside me. My vision was still blurry, but after a few seconds, it cleared. And that’s when I saw my husband and the doctor discussing in a corner.
“Your wife is showing signs of severe preeclampsia,” the doctor explained, his voice low and even. “Her blood pressure is dangerously high, and it’s starting to affect her internal organs. Because of that, blood flow to the placenta is limited.”
“In English,” Artur said, looking right at the doctor.
“Both her life and the baby’s are at risk if this worsens.”
Artur lowered his head, fingers rubbing his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the diagnosis, too. Fear was creeping in again because I couldn’t afford to lose this baby.
“Can you fix it?”
He shook his head. “What we can do is manage it.”
“So you’re telling me that I could lose them?” His voice dripped with fury, his face a mask of anger.
“I’m telling you that with the right management and care, we can save them both.”
Artur combed his fingers through his hair, frustration creeping in.
The doctor further explained, saying, “She must rest. No stress of any kind. We’ll need to keep her under constant monitoring. But if her condition deteriorates, then I’m afraid we may be forced to deliver the baby early to save at least one of them.”
With a broken heart, I wiped the tears from my eyes, my lips quivering in fear. He glanced back at me and saw that I was awake already.
“Hey,” he called softly, rushing over to meet me.
“I’ll leave you alone.” The doctor dematerialized.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, his voice gentle as he sat on the edge of the bed.
I forced a smile. “Better.”
He paused, eyes boring into mine. “How much of that did you hear?” He was referring to his conversation with the doctor.
“Enough to know the complications.”
“There are no complications.” He held my hand, his gaze unwavering.
I flashed him a faint smile. “I heard what the doctor said, Artur.” My voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “It’s okay.”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “I don’t care what the report says. I’m not losing either of you.”
His optimism was admirable. But beneath the surface, I saw fear and unease.