Months Later — Riya's Apartment
Rain tapped gently against the windows, the gray morning light casting a calm, misty glow across the apartment. Riya moved slowly, careful with her steps, one hand on her belly and the other clutching her medical file. Eight months pregnant and counting—her next prenatal appointment was in less than an hour.
She glanced at the mirror in the hallway, smoothed a hand over her cardigan, and smiled faintly at the sight of her swollen belly. The baby kicked in response.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she murmured. "We're going. Don't rush me."
Just as she reached for the doorknob, a knock sounded from the other side of the door.
She froze.
It wasn't the mail carrier—they never knocked. And it wasn't Hank. He always texted before showing up.
Her heart stuttered, inexplicably. Carefully, she unlocked the door, opened it—
And the world stopped spinning.
Justin stood there.
Alive. Whole. Beautiful.
He looked even better than the last time she'd seen him. No bruises. No blood. No tension twisting his frame. His skin was healthy, his dark eyes bright and alert. The quiet strength in his posture was familiar, but now there was peace behind it. Like he'd finally exhaled after a lifetime of holding his breath.
He wore a dark jacket and jeans, a cap pulled low over his soft curls. But there was no mistaking him. Not after loving him. Not after mourning him.
Riya just stared.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her lips parted. But no sound came out.
She couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Her entire body felt like it had turned to stone. Eyes wide, mouth barely ajar—she was frozen in pure, unfiltered shock.
Justin's gaze dropped to her belly, his brows lifting as emotion flickered across his face. His smile spread slowly—gentle, amazed, a little overwhelmed.
Then he looked back at her, meeting her stunned, tearful eyes, and said with a crooked grin that made her knees weak—
"Hey, mama."
Still, nothing came out of her.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she couldn't form a single word. Couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, couldn't make sense of what she was seeing.
So he stepped closer, lifting a hand to touch her face—tentative, soft, reverent.
And the moment his fingers brushed her cheek, the dam inside her broke.
Tears spilled silently. Her lips trembled, hands shaking as they rose to touch his chest, his face, as if needing proof that he was really here. That he wasn't another cruel dream.
He caught her hands, pressed them to his chest—right over his heart.
"It's me," he said, his voice quieter now. "I'm home."
Riya opened her mouth, finally about to speak—to say his name, to ask how he was alive, to tell him everything she'd held in for months—but the words never came.
Because suddenly, a bolt of pain shot through her belly like lightning.
She gasped—then screamed, loud and raw, clutching her stomach as she doubled over. "Ah—God!"
Justin's smile vanished instantly, replaced by alarm. "Riya? What's wrong—"
Before he could finish, another, even sharper contraction hit. Her knees buckled, and with a strangled cry, she reached out and grabbed him—fists clutching his jacket tightly, like he was the only thing keeping her upright.
"Oh my God," she panted, eyes wide with panic. "Justin—my water just broke."
He looked down, saw the spreading wetness on the floor, and his jaw dropped. "Wait—what?"
"He's coming," she whispered, voice trembling. "The baby's coming. Now."
Justin blinked, then jumped into action. He hooked one arm around her waist, the other bracing her shoulder. "Okay, okay. Where's your hospital bag?"
"By the couch!" she gritted through her teeth.
He helped her back inside just long enough to grab the bag, then scooped her up into his arms without hesitation. She clung to him, gasping as another wave of pain hit. Her fingers dug into his shoulder.
"You picked a hell of a day to come back," she said through a grimace.
Justin managed a breathless laugh, adjusting his grip on her. "What can I say? He must've wanted to meet his dad."
"Drive fast," she muttered as another contraction built.
"I was a getaway driver once," he said with a wink. "Buckle up, mama."
Riya's body was trembling with every contraction as the car sped through the streets, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement filling the air. She was lying in the backseat, her knees pulled up to her chest, hands gripping the fabric of the seat, her body tensed with each wave of pain that coursed through her.
"Oh God, Justin, it's too much," she gasped, her voice strained as she tried to catch her breath. The pain was becoming unbearable, and her entire body was on fire with the intensity of it. Her hands were slick with sweat, her nails digging into the seat.
Justin's voice came from the front, tight and focused, trying to keep calm despite the chaos. "Riya, breathe. You're doing great, just focus on your breathing, alright? We're almost there."
The car swerved around another corner, and Riya let out a sharp scream as another contraction hit. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body bowing forward, as if trying to escape the relentless pain.
"Just a little longer," Justin said, his voice tight but steady. He kept his eyes locked on the road, hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel, determined to get them to the hospital. "You're almost there, baby."
Riya couldn't respond. All she could do was hold on and breathe—when she could. Her head thrashed against the seat as she cried out, unable to control the waves of pain that came crashing through her. She was acutely aware of the dampness beneath her, and it only made the reality of the situation hit harder. The baby was coming.
She grabbed the seat again, her whole body tight with pain. "Please, Justin!" she gasped, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Hurry, please, it's too much, it's too much—"
"I'm going as fast as I can," Justin's voice cracked through the air, filled with both urgency and fear. His foot pressed down harder on the gas pedal as the car lurched forward, the engine roaring louder in the quiet night.
Another contraction slammed into her, and she screamed—louder, more frantic. She felt the baby moving inside her, felt the intense pressure, and it was all too much.
"I can't—Justin, I can't do this—" she sobbed, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her body was shaking, her heart racing.
"Riya, listen to me. You can," Justin's voice was calm, but it wavered slightly with his own anxiety. "You're doing great. I'm right here with you. We're almost there, baby."
Her fingers dug into the seat beneath her as another wave of pain gripped her. She wanted to scream again, but her breath caught, unable to fully release it. Everything hurt. Everything was overwhelming. But somehow, through the pain, she knew one thing: she needed to hold on.
The car sped through another set of red lights, and Riya felt a sharp, desperate pain. She gasped, her breath coming out in a strangled cry.
"Justin, please—we're running out of time—"
"We're almost there," Justin said, voice barely above a whisper, but there was a hint of panic underneath the calm. "Hold on. Just hold on a little longer."
As the pain intensified, Riya's breath grew more erratic, and her mind scrambled, trying to hold onto something other than the searing contractions. But she couldn't keep it in anymore. Her frustration, her anger, her hurt—it all spilled out, a furious mix of emotions that she had been holding back for months.
"Where the hell were you, Justin?" she hissed, her voice strained with pain and rage. "You just disappeared—again! You're not even here, and now you show up like nothing happened? You think you can just walk back in after all this time?"
Her hand shot out, grabbing the back of the front seat, her nails digging in as the next contraction hit. She could feel her pulse pounding in her head, the heat of her anger rising alongside the physical pain. "You have no idea what I've been through. What we've been through! You left me with all of it. And now, you show up and expect everything to be fine?"
Justin's eyes darted to the rearview mirror, his grip tightening on the wheel, his jaw clenched. He could hear the hurt in her voice, but somehow, the fury was making her sound more like herself—strong, fierce, and in control. And oddly, it seemed to help her cope with the pain.
"Riya, I know... I know I've screwed up," Justin said, his voice strained but steady, a flicker of regret in his tone. "But I swear, I didn't want to leave. I—"
"Then why the hell did you?" she interrupted sharply, her body shuddering with another contraction. Her teeth clenched as she threw her words like daggers at him. "You can't just come back and act like nothing happened, Justin! Like I'm supposed to forget what you put me through—what we lost!"
Her words weren't as much about him as they were about the pain—both physical and emotional—that she was feeling. Each insult seemed to fuel the fire, giving her a strange, fleeting sense of power in the midst of the agony.
"I know," Justin's voice was soft but firm. He took a deep breath, his hands tight around the wheel as he fought to stay focused on the road. "I can't change what I did. I'm sorry. But I'm here now. I'm right here, and I'm not leaving. Not again."
Riya screamed as another contraction hit, her body curling up, the pain unbearable. She clenched her teeth, throwing more angry words at him as if they could chase the pain away.
"You're here now? Great. Just in time to watch me lose it—again." She panted, her voice ragged with the strain. "What do you want me to say, huh? That I'm glad you're back? That I've missed you?"
"Riya, I—" Justin started to speak again, but her fury seemed to drive her onward.
"No!" she screamed, her hands gripping the seat, nails tearing at the fabric. "I don't care about your excuses. You're lucky I'm even letting you anywhere near me—let alone my son. You disappeared, Justin. And now you expect me to just... let it go?"
But somehow, as the words spilled out, as her anger flowed in sync with the pain, Riya felt a little less helpless. She felt like she was fighting—fighting to take control of a situation that felt out of her hands, even if it was just in the words she was saying.
Justin's eyes were locked on the road, but he could see her struggle in the rearview mirror. His lips pressed into a thin line, his heart heavy with the weight of her words, but there was something about the fire in her that gave him a strange hope.
"Riya..." he said, voice tight with emotion. "I know. I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I'll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear."
Another contraction hit, and she cried out again, but this time, there was a shift in the air. Justin wasn't just hearing her pain. He was hearing her fight. And that made him push harder on the gas pedal, his determination matching the fury in her voice.
"Just hold on a little longer, baby," he murmured. "We're almost there. We'll get through this. Together."
And somehow, through the pain, the anger, the hurt, Riya found herself clinging to his words.
The car screeched to a halt outside the hospital, and Justin wasted no time. He rushed around to the back, yanking the door open. Riya, her face pale but fierce, was still gripping the seat, her body trembling with the intensity of her contractions. Without a word, he scooped her up, cradling her close as she winced and groaned, trying to breathe through the pain.
The emergency room doors swung open, and nurses and doctors immediately surrounded them. They swiftly rolled Riya into the labor room, with Justin walking beside them, never letting go of her hand.
"Please, I need him with me," Riya gasped, her voice a blend of urgency and pain. Her eyes locked onto Justin's, pleading for him to stay.
A no-nonsense nurse glanced at her, then nodded firmly. "Alright, we'll make room for him."
Riya sighed in relief as Justin squeezed her hand, his heart racing. They quickly wheeled her into the sterile, bright room, and moments later, the nurse ushered Justin in. He hesitated for a second, surveying the cold, clinical space, but when he saw the fear and desperation in Riya's eyes, he crossed the room in two long strides, sitting beside her.
"Hey," he said softly, brushing a lock of hair from her sweaty face. "I'm here. We're going to do this together, okay?"
Riya's lips trembled with frustration, and she shot him a look full of anger before another contraction hit. She gasped for breath, her grip tightening painfully around his hand.
And then, the floodgates opened.
"You," she hissed through clenched teeth, her face flushed with effort. "You disappeared on me! You left me to do this alone, and now you think you can just show up and—"
Justin winced but couldn't help the half-smile that tugged at his lips. He leaned in closer, squeezing her hand gently. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a bastard. But I'm here now, okay?"
Another contraction hit, and she screamed, her body trembling as she squeezed his hand tighter, her face contorting with the pain. Between the waves of agony, her voice was filled with fury.
"You left me with everything, Justin! Everything! And now I have to—ahh!" she cried out, bending forward in a desperate attempt to escape the pressure.
"Riya, please," Justin whispered, his voice softening with each word she hurled at him. He had expected her anger, but in the chaos of it all, he realized her anger wasn't just emotion—it was strength. It was pushing her forward.
And, strangely, it seemed to be helping. He could see it now, how the fire in her words, the anger, was fueling her body's response to the pain. Every outburst seemed to drive her to push harder.
Another contraction came, and she screamed again, fighting against the overwhelming pressure. Justin held her hand, his jaw clenched, but he didn't pull away. He focused on her eyes, willing her to keep going.
"Come on, Riya," he murmured, leaning closer. "You're doing amazing. We're almost there."
"Don't—don't tell me what I can do!" she snapped, her teeth gritted. "You—you're the one who left me, and now look where we are!"
Justin grimaced but held her hand tighter, feeling her desperation. Despite her words, he couldn't help but smile, the fire in her voice almost comforting in a way. "Yeah, I'm sorry. But you're one hell of a woman, you know that?"
Riya barely registered his words before another contraction hit, her grip on his hand tightening. Each breath was shallow and desperate, but through the pain and the fury, she was pushing herself through it, fueled by both emotions.
She continued to curse him, but every word was more than just frustration—it was strength. The fire in her was what was driving her forward, propelling her closer to bringing their son into the world.
Justin leaned forward, brushing his lips over her forehead, his voice steady. "I'm right here. You're amazing. Just keep going."
The doctor, who had been watching them closely, gave a quiet nod of approval. "Let her continue, she's channeling her anger. It's helping," he said, urging them to keep pushing.
For a moment, time seemed to slow. Riya took a deep breath, still holding onto the anger, still cursing him—but also pushing with everything she had. And Justin held her hand the entire time, not just as her partner, but as her unwavering support.
With one final, determined push, Riya felt a rush of relief as the baby emerged. The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, and then she heard the soft, frantic cries of their newborn son filling the air. A smile spread across her face, pure joy mingling with exhaustion.
The doctor worked quickly, expertly cutting the umbilical cord. "It's a boy," he announced, his voice full of warmth and triumph.
Riya's smile widened as she gazed at her son, her heart swelling with love for the tiny life she had just brought into the world. But in the next instant, the overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit her all at once. Her vision blurred, her head grew heavy, and before she could react, everything went black.
Justin's eyes widened in alarm as he saw Riya's body go limp. "Riya!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with panic. The room erupted into motion as the doctors and nurses rushed to her side, but Justin's focus remained entirely on her.