Before Our Dawn| ongoing

thirty-six

Chapitre trente-six
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By Christmas, Isra was six months along. Nothing had really changed, yet the spirit of the holiday season persisted. Snow blanketed the city, draping it in a pristine white that temporarily softened the harshness around them. 

This year, like the last one, she celebrated the holidays indoors, except that there was no Sophie and no Christmas tree. She had accepted months ago that her daughter would never return. Sophie had been too little, and the conditions of war were too harsh. The sooner she accepted reality, the easier it would be to mourn her and honour her memory. She might have only had her for three years, but they were the best three years of her life, and she was lucky to have experienced the joy of being her mother, of creating a life with her husband.

Speaking of husband-it was very unlikely that he had survived the Battle for France. According to what Hans told her, he was either killed on the battlefield and his body was yet to be discovered, or he was killed in prison. However, in the back of her mind, her hope continued to burn like a candle. She knew the futility of her hope, yet she held on to it tenaciously, believing that part of her past life still existed in some distant corner of the world. Even the letters from her mother had stopped arriving months prior, likely due to how difficult it was for them to be delivered once they got to France. 

For now, she would make the most of her Christmas with Hans. He was, after all, the last person she had. The father of her child. And she loved him. She loved having somebody to love. They sat in front of the fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across the living room.

Hans's eyes held her soft, affectionate gaze as he reached into his pocket, his hand emerging with a delicate, flower-shaped hairclip adorned with glistening rhinestones. 

He gave the small gift to Isra. "I know it's not much, but I saw this in a shop, and I thought it would look beautiful in your hair."

"Oh, Hans..." she murmured, accepting the gift and cradling it gently in her hand. "It's lovely. Thank you."

He smiled warmly, relief washing over him. "I'm glad you like it. I wish I could give you more, but in times like these..."

Isra placed a finger against his lips, silencing his words. "You give me more than you'll ever know. I appreciate everything you've ever done for me."

To show her gratitude, she inserted the clip in her hair, its rhinestones catching the orange firelight. "There. Beautiful," she said, her smile warming him more than the fire itself. 

"You've made it even more beautiful." He cupped the curve of her feminine jaw, running his nose down the length of her own and briefly catching her lips. "It suits you perfectly."

Isra blushed at his sweet words and kissed him one more time. 

"I'm sorry that I didn't get you anything," she said.

"You've given me more than enough." Hans gently patted her protruding stomach, grinning when he felt a tiny kick beneath his touch. It happened often these days and it never failed to spark joy in his heart. "I think he's wishing us a very merry Christmas."

"He?" she laughed, her playful skepticism evident. She playfully pushed him away. "How can you be so sure it's a boy?"

"I can feel it."

But Isra, not entirely convinced, challenged his certainty. "You can't just feel those things." 

He took her wrist and guided her hand to her stomach, inviting her to feel the kicks for herself. "See, it's strong. It's a boy. Our Klaus."