Evelyn quickly turned forward again, masking her expression.
The last thing she needed was for Axel to know what she was thinking.
He already had a talent for reading her with just one look, and she wasn't about to give him more reasons to do so.
When they reached the post-operative observation room, a nurse guided them inside.
Her heart tightened as she saw her poor baby Oliver lying in the bed, small and pale beneath the sheets, wires and monitors attached to his tiny body.
And before Axel could react, she rushed forward, clutching her son's hand gently, as if he might shatter at her touch.
"Oh, sweetheart…" she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Her voice trembled, full of fear and love.
...
Axel stood a few steps back, his expression locked in its usual mask, but his eyes betrayed him. They softened as they rested on Oliver, his son. His blood. His heir.
