The CEO's Match

The Waiting Game

Nova's pov

As I cradled our baby boy, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy and love. The tiny, warm bundle in my arms felt like the missing piece of my life had finally fallen into place. I looked at Alexander, who was standing beside me, his face etched with a mixture of awe and emotion. His eyes never left us, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the delivery room.

But then, I began to feel a strange weakness. My vision blurred, and my grip on the baby slackened. The heart monitor's steady beep started to quicken, turning into an alarming crescendo. Panic rose in my chest, and before I could fully comprehend what was happening, everything started to fade.

I heard a distant, muffled voice, Alexander's name being called out urgently, but the sounds seemed to come from far away. I tried to hold on, to stay present for this precious moment, but the darkness overtook me, and I lost consciousness.

The room erupted into a flurry of activity as the doctors and nurses sprang into action. I felt hands on me, lifting me, checking my vitals. I wanted to reach out, to tell them I was okay, but my body wouldn't respond. The last thing I saw was Alexander's terrified face, his eyes wide with fear and worry.

The baby was gently taken from my arms, and I heard Alexander's voice, full of distress, asking if I was going to be okay. I wanted to reassure him, but I was powerless to do so. All I could do was hope that he would find the strength to be there for both of us.

As I drifted further away, I felt a pang of sorrow for not being able to be fully present for my baby's first moments. I wished for nothing more than to wake up and hold him again, to see Alexander's relieved face, and to start our new life together as a family.

Alexander's pov

The delivery room was chaos. I held our newborn son, my heart pounding in my chest. The doctors and nurses surrounded Nova, their faces tense and serious.

Her sudden collapse had thrown everything into disarray. The joy of becoming a father was overshadowed by the fear of losing her.

I glanced down at the tiny bundle in my arms. Our son, just minutes old, looked up at me with curious, unseeing eyes. I fought to keep my emotions in check, knowing that Nova needed me strong right now.

The baby's cries were a stark contrast to the sterile silence that had overtaken the room as the medical team worked on Nova.

I could barely comprehend the frantic murmurs of the doctors and the hurried footsteps of the nurses. It felt like time had stopped, the minutes dragging on as I waited for any news.

Every beep of the heart monitor felt like a drumbeat to my anxiety, a relentless reminder of how fragile our lives were at this moment.I tried to focus on our son, knowing he needed me as much as Nova did.

I gently rocked him, whispering words of reassurance that I hoped would one day be true. My mind raced with a million thoughts, but they all circled back to Nova. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the doctors approached me.

Her expression was softer now, though still serious. "Mr. Blackwood, we've stabilized her. She's in recovery now, but it was a close call. We need to keep a close eye on her for the next few hours. It's important that she gets the rest she needs."

Relief washed over me, though it was tempered with worry. "Can I see her?" I asked, my voice strained."Yes, but she's still under sedation. It's best if you stay calm and let her rest. We'll keep you updated on her condition," the doctor replied.I nodded, clutching our son tightly.

I took him to the nursery, where the staff gently took him from me, ensuring he was well cared for.

I stepped out into the waiting area, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. I needed to see Nova, to be by her side and hold her hand, to assure myself that she was going to be okay.

I paced back and forth, waiting for any news, any sign that she was improving. The minutes felt like hours, and I found myself repeatedly checking my phone for updates. My thoughts kept drifting back to Nova, imagining her waking up and seeing our son for the first time.

Finally, a nurse approached me with an encouraging nod. "You can see her now. She's stable and waking up. She's asking for you." My heart leapt, and I hurried to her recovery room.

I entered, finding her lying in bed, her eyes slowly opening as I approached. Her gaze met mine, and despite her weakened state, her eyes held a flicker of the strength and warmth I had come to rely on.

"I'm here," I said softly, taking her hand in mine. "We're going to be okay."Nova managed a weak smile, her fingers squeezing mine gently. "Well, look who finally decided to show up.

I was beginning to think you'd lost interest in the whole fatherhood thing," she said with a wry smile.I couldn't help but chuckle, despite the worry still gnawing at me. "I was a little busy holding our son and hoping you'd come back to us."

"Busy, huh? Just remember, next time you're thinking about letting me take all the credit for this little one, it's not just about you making the sacrifices," she teased, her voice soft but laced with the usual sarcasm. "I'll keep that in mind," I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"And just so you know, I plan on being here for all the sleepless nights and diaper changes.""Good," she said, her smile widening despite her exhaustion.

"Because if you weren't, I'd have to start making plans to get even. You know, something like making you handle the midnight feedings alone."I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of relief and joy.