Epilogue - Trifon
I’ve planned executions with a steadier hand than I’m holding right now.
“Breathe through it,” the nurse coaches, her voice calm and practiced. “That’s it, good job.”
Yulia’s knuckles turn white as she bears down. Her hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat, and Christ, I’ve never seen anyone look so beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
“I’m here,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple. The words feel pathetically inadequate. I would take this pain for her in a heartbeat if I could.
She turns to me, green eyes blazing with agony. “Don’t you dare look scared, Trifon Yuri,” she hisses between clenched teeth. “If I can do this, you can watch without looking like you’re about to pass out.”
I can’t help but smile. Even now, in the middle of bringing our child into the world, she’s bossing me around. My fierce, incredible wife.
“I’m not scared,” I lie. “I’m in awe of you.”
Yulia’s fingers are crushing mine—delicate surgeon’s fingers turned into a vice grip. Her nails bite into my skin with every contraction, and I welcome the pain. It anchors me. Distracts me from the rising terror clawing up my throat.
She’s sweating, her hair sticking to her temples, her teeth gritted as another wave hits. “Breathe,” the doctor says calmly.
She’s breathing. I’m not.
“Shouldn’t she have pushed her out by now?” I demand, voice tight. “It’s been thirty-seven minutes—”
The doctor cuts me a look over his mask. “You planning to catch the baby yourself, Mr. Yuri?”
Yulia lets out a strangled laugh and then winces. “Trifon, shut up and let me push.”
Right. Right.
“You’re doing amazing, lyubimaya,” I whisper, brushing sweat from her brow. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She turns her face toward me, eyes blazing with a kind of focused fury I’ve only ever seen when she’s yelling at her brothers or making me beg. “If you ever put me through this again, I’m breaking both your legs.”
God, I love her.
“You’re doing amazing,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. “Not much longer now.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mutters. “Don’t leave, okay?”
As if I could. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
The next contraction hits, and she bears down with a cry that rips through me more than any bullet ever could. Her grip tightens—my fingers are numb—but I don’t let go. I press my forehead to hers, breathing with her, grounding us both.
“You’ve got her,” I murmur. “Come on, Yulia. Bring her home.”
And then—suddenly, finally—there’s a wet, wriggling cry that silences everything else.
The doctor lifts a squalling, red-faced bundle into the air as if it were something sacred. “You’ve got a healthy little girl.”
My knees almost give out.
Yulia collapses back onto the pillows, chest heaving, eyes glassy with tears—but smiling. She looks at me like I just handed her the world.
But it’s she who’s done that for me.
They place the baby on her chest, and I look down at this tiny, perfect miracle—pink skin, soft tufts of dark hair, furious little fists. She quiets the moment Yulia whispers to her.
Tears blur my vision. I don’t care if anyone sees.
“I love you,” I say hoarsely, to both of them. “I love you so much, I don’t know how I ever lived before this.”
Yulia looks up, exhausted and radiant. “You’re crying.”
I nod, not bothering to deny it. “Of course I am. You’re the bravest damn woman I’ve ever met. And she’s ours.”
Our daughter blinks up at me, already judging me like a true Yuri.
I reach out, brushing one tiny hand with my finger. She wraps hers around it instinctively, holding tight.
My heart caves.
Life hasn’t always been kind to me. But right now—right here?
It’s good.
And I’m never letting go of this gift.
*****
THE END