Damian stood by Aurora’s bedside, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at her. The soft beeping of the machines filled the room, but all he could focus on was her face. She looked so small, so fragile, like a doll that could break at any moment.
He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. Her skin felt cold under his fingers, and it sent a pang through his chest. Slowly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice soft but filled with pain. “For everything.”
As he straightened up, he couldn’t help but wonder what she would say if she could hear him. Would she forgive him? Or would she look at him with the same fear and anger she had when she first came into his life?
Damian’s mind drifted back to the beginning, to the first night he had taken Aurora. She had been so different then full of fire, even though she was scared. He remembered the way she had fought him, her hands pushing against his chest as she begged him to stop.
“Please,” she had said, her voice shaking. “Don’t do this.”
But he hadn’t listened. He had been too consumed by his own desires, too focused on claiming her as his own. He remembered the way she had trembled under him, her wide eyes filled with fear and tears.
She had been so innocent, so untouched by the darkness of his world. And he had taken that from her.
Damian clenched his fists at the memory, the guilt clawing at his chest. He had broken her in so many ways, but she had always been strong-willed. Even after everything he had done, she had refused to let him completely destroy her.
He remembered the nights when she would look at him with defiance in her eyes, even though she was hurting. “You don’t own me,” she had said once, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes.
“You’re wrong,” he had replied coldly. “You belong to me. You’ll learn to accept it.”
But now, as he looked at her lying in the hospital bed, he wondered if he had been the one who had it all wrong. Aurora had never truly belonged to him. She had always been her own person, no matter how much he tried to control her.
And now she was carrying his child.
The thought made his chest tighten. He had taken so much from her her freedom, her innocence and now she was paying the price for his selfishness.
Damian sat down in the chair beside her bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
He thought about the first time he had seen her smile. It had been rare, but when she smiled, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. He had never told her how much he loved that smile. And now, he wondered if he would ever see it again.
“You were always stronger than I gave you credit for,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on her face. “Even when I tried to break you, you didn’t let me win. You fought me every step of the way.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “And now look at you. Fighting for your life. Because of me.”
His mind wandered back to the night he had first taken her to his bed. She had been so vulnerable, so unsure of herself. He remembered the way she had clutched the sheets, her voice trembling as she asked him to stop.
He had ignored her, his own desires overpowering any sense of decency. But even then, she hadn’t stopped fighting. She had looked him in the eye, her fear mingled with anger, and told him, “You’ll regret this one day.”
And she had been right.
Damian closed his eyes, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. He had hurt her in ways that couldn’t be undone, and now she was paying the price for his mistakes.
“I should’ve protected you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I should’ve been better.”
He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her fingers were cold, and it made him feel even worse. She had always been warm, full of life, even when she was angry with him.
“You’re carrying my child,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “And I don’t even know if you’ll wake up to hear me say this, but… I’m sorry.”
The words felt hollow, but he didn’t know what else to say. Apologies wouldn’t change the past. They wouldn’t take away the pain he had caused her. But they were all he had.
“You didn’t deserve any of this,” he continued. “I took everything from you. Your freedom. Your innocence. And now… this.”
He thought about the baby growing inside her, the life they had created together. It should’ve been something to celebrate, but instead, it felt like a cruel twist of fate.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I swear to you, Aurora, I’ll try. I’ll protect you. Both of you.”
The sound of the machines filled the silence, a steady reminder of how fragile she was. Damian sat there for a long time, his mind racing with memories and regrets.
He had never been the kind of man to dwell on his mistakes, but with Aurora, it was impossible not to. She had changed him in ways he didn’t fully understand, and now he was faced with the possibility of losing her forever.
“I need you to wake up,” he said, his voice firm despite the crack in it. “Not just for the baby, but for me. I don’t deserve it, I know that. But I need you, Aurora. More than I’ve ever needed anyone.”
The room remained silent, but Damian stayed by her side, his hand never leaving hers. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he hoped that somehow, his words would reach her.
“You’re strong,” he said softly. “You’ve always been strong. Stronger than me. So fight, Aurora. Fight for yourself. Fight for our child.”
As the hours passed, Damian remained at her bedside, his guilt and love warring within him. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain-he wouldn’t let her face it alone.