The hospital hallway was filled with silence, broken only by the hurried steps of nurses and the beeping of machines. Amara's eyes were swollen from crying. She sat in the waiting room, fingers trembling, staring at the closed doors where her daughter Leah was being treated. Every second felt like an hour.
Mia sat beside her, holding Leo close to her chest. The little boy clung to his aunt's shirt, his wide innocent eyes moving from his crying mother to the tall man standing near the wall. Damian Knight.
His face was pale, but his jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the door where his blood was being transferred into Leah's tiny body. The doctor had confirmed it-he was the perfect match. He didn't even hesitate; he signed the form immediately. Now, even though the medical team was working on Leah, the minutes crawled by painfully slow.
"Amara," Mia whispered, reaching for her friend's hand. But Amara pulled away, covering her face with both hands as tears flowed freely. "How... how is this happening? Why him? Why now?" she sobbed.
Damian's deep voice finally broke the silence. "Because I am her father."
Amara froze. The words cut through her like a blade. She turned her head slowly, eyes wide. "What did you just say?"
Damian's gaze softened, but he didn't back down. "Leah is my daughter. And Leo too. They're mine, Amara. They've always been mine."
"No!" Amara stood abruptly, shaking her head as if the air around her was suffocating. "No... I don't remember you. I don't know you. Stop saying that!"
Leo quickly rushed to his mother, hiding behind her leg and glaring at Damian. His little hand gripped her skirt tightly. "Mom, don't cry. Don't let him make you cry."
Damian's heart twisted at the sight of the boy. His son. The same sharp jawline. The same deep eyes. Every feature reminded him of himself. He wanted to kneel down, to hold the boy, to tell him the truth-but Leo's small face was filled with fear and mistrust.
Mia exhaled loudly and stood. "Amara... you need to hear the truth. You can't keep living in confusion."
Amara turned to her with a desperate look. "Mia, don't. Please don't. I can't take this right now-"
"No," Mia cut her off firmly. "You need to know. Four years ago, before the accident, before everything, you and Damian were together. Not just lovers-you were married, Amara. He was your husband."
Amara's knees went weak. She staggered backward and would have fallen if not for the chair behind her. She sank into it, shaking her head over and over. "Married? Me? To him? No... that can't be true."
Damian reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. From inside, he carefully slid out a slightly worn photograph. His hand trembled as he walked over to her, kneeling so his eyes met hers. He extended the photo.
Amara's fingers hesitated before she took it. She looked down.
It was her. Dressed in a white gown. A veil covering part of her glowing face. Standing beside her was Damian, in a suit, smiling in a way that made her chest tighten. His arm was wrapped around her waist. The love in his eyes was undeniable.
Amara's breathing quickened. She dropped the photo on her lap, clutching her head. "No... no, this is not me. This is not my life. I don't remember this man!"
Tears streamed down Damian's cheeks for the first time in years. He reached for her hands gently. "You may not remember, but I do. I remember every moment. Our wedding. The vows we made. The nights we laughed together. The day you told me you were pregnant. Amara, you are my wife. And those children... Leo and Leah, they're our babies."
Amara pulled her hands back, shaking violently. She looked at Mia with wide eyes. "Is this true? Mia, please... don't lie to me. Is this true?"
Mia's face softened with pain. "Yes, Amara. It's true. Everything he's saying is true. You lost your memory after that terrible incident, but Damian never stopped looking for you. He's been searching across countries for years."
Amara broke into sobs, burying her face in her palms. Her world felt like it was spinning out of control. She didn't know whether to scream, run, or collapse.
Leo tugged at her hand. "Mom..." His small voice was trembling. "Is he really my dad?"
The room fell into a heavy silence. Amara couldn't speak. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. She looked at Mia helplessly.
Mia crouched down beside Leo, brushing his hair gently. "Yes, sweetheart. He is your dad."
Damian's chest rose and fell sharply. He turned his eyes toward his son, his heart pounding with a mixture of joy and pain.
Leo frowned, hugging his mother tighter. "Then why did he leave us? Why wasn't he here?"
Damian's throat tightened. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak gently. "I never left you, son. I didn't even know where you were. I've been searching, every day, every night. If I could have found you sooner, I would have."
Leo looked at him suspiciously, then buried his face in his mother's dress. "I don't like him. I only want you, Mom."
The rejection hit Damian like a dagger. His shoulders slumped, but he didn't argue. He knew trust had to be earned. He had missed four years of his son's life-birthdays, first words, first steps. It wasn't Leo's fault that his heart was guarded.
Damian sat back slowly, wiping his face with his hand. His voice broke as he whispered, "I'll wait, son. Even if it takes a lifetime, I'll wait for you to accept me."
The door to Leah's room opened at that moment. A doctor stepped out, removing his gloves. "The transfusion was successful. She's stable now. But she needs a lot of rest, and you'll have to watch her closely."
Amara shot to her feet. "Can I see her?"
"Yes, but only briefly," the doctor replied before walking away.
Amara hurried inside, holding Leo's hand. Mia followed closely. Damian remained standing by the door, too scared to move closer, too overwhelmed by the emotions crashing inside him.
Through the glass, he saw Amara bend over Leah's bed, kissing her daughter's forehead, tears streaming down her face. Leo sat on the edge of the bed, whispering to his twin sister softly.
Damian leaned against the wall, his legs weak. He closed his eyes, whispering to himself, "Thank you, God... thank you for saving her."
But even as relief filled him, another pain pressed deeper-the distance between him and the woman he loved, the walls of confusion standing between him and his children.
He vowed silently, right there in the hospital hallway, that no matter how long it took, he would break down those walls. He would fight for his family. He had already lost them once. He would not lose them again.