The Promotion

Epilogue

The weight of it pressed down on me like the world itself had decided to sit on my chest.

Pain tore through my body in sharp, merciless waves—erratic and cruel, crashing into me without warning. It didn't stay in one place. It travelled, igniting every nerve, pulling me apart from the inside. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to escape it, but the darkness only made it louder, more vicious.

Sweat soaked my skin, warm droplets slipping from my hairline down my temples, clinging to my cheeks. I didn't have the strength to lift a hand, to wipe them away. Everything I had was poured into surviving the moment.

My breathing fractured—short, uneven gasps that rattled in my chest. My ribs expanded and contracted too quickly, like I was drowning on dry land. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had to slow it down. Focus. Ride it out.

But fear crept in anyway.

"I can't," I whispered, my voice trembling, barely louder than a breath.

Another wave hit, stronger than the last. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision as the ache ripped through me again.

"I can't do this," I sobbed, the words tumbling out of me like a plea to the universe itself.

"Louisa," a calm but firm voice said from between my legs, grounding and steady. "You're nearly there. Just one more push."

I didn't care who it was. I didn't care what they said. All I wanted was for the pain to stop.

Then another voice cut through the chaos—lower, familiar, wrapped in love.

"Hey. Look at me."

I turned my head, my vision swimming, and there he was.

Alexander.

He was right beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, his forehead pressed against my temple. His hands were clasped tightly in mine, knuckles white with effort, like he was carrying the pain with me.

"You're doing it," he murmured. "You're incredible. I've got you. I'm right here."

I clung to him—not just his hands, but his voice, his presence, the safety he had always been for me. He was my anchor in the storm.

I dragged in a deep breath, filling my lungs until it burned, and pushed with everything I had left. My body shook, my scream tearing free without restraint, raw and desperate.

And then—suddenly—it was over.

The pressure vanished in an instant, replaced by a strange, weightless calm. For a heartbeat, it felt like I was floating.

Then the sound reached me.

A cry.

Small. Fierce. Alive.

My heart cracked open.

"Congratulations," the midwife said gently, her voice filled with warmth. "It's a baby girl."

Time stopped.

They placed her against my bare chest, warm and impossibly small. Her skin was soft, her cry already quieting as she settled against me, like she somehow knew she was safe.

I stared down at her, unable to breathe.

Love slammed into me with such force it stole the air from my lungs. It was instant. Overwhelming. Nothing I had ever felt before came close.

Alexander laughed through a broken sob beside me. "You did it," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm so proud of you."

He leaned closer, his eyes shining as he took her in. Our daughter.