The sterile scent of the hospital clung to the air, mixed with faint beeping monitors and soft murmurs in the hallway. Sebastian paced the waiting area like a caged wolf, hands running through his hair every five seconds. Tasha sat nearby, holding his jacket like a mother hen, pretending to scroll her phone but watching him closely.
"She's okay," she assured for the fifth time. "It's a standard delivery, everything's going fine."
But her smirk betrayed her.
Sebastian shot her a glance. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Tasha shrugged. "No reason."
Before he could ask more, a nurse stepped out in pale scrubs. "Mr. Lores?"
He was at her side in two strides. "Is she okay? Can I see her?"
"She's just waking up," the nurse said with a kind smile. "But yes—follow me."
His boots echoed down the corridor as they led him toward the private recovery room Emilia had insisted on. He didn't care if the walls were gold or plain brick—he just wanted to see her.
The door creaked open, and there she was—his wife. Tired, glowing, and beautiful, lying against crisp white pillows with flushed cheeks and damp hair.
"Em…"
She looked up, sleepy-eyed and smiling. "Hey, handsome."
He was at her bedside in a heartbeat, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How are you? The baby?"
Her smile widened—mischievous, gleaming.
"She's perfect," Emilia whispered, voice thick with emotion.
She? His heart leapt. "A girl?"
Emilia nodded. "Our little fighter."
Just then, a soft knock followed by a nurse wheeling in a tiny clear bassinet interrupted them. Inside, swaddled in pink, was a tiny baby with a full head of dark curls.
Sebastian blinked, heart caught in his throat. He reached out, fingers trembling as he touched the side of the bassinet.
"God… she's beautiful."
"Wait," Emilia murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes. "There's more."
"What?"
Another nurse came in—this time wheeling in another bassinet.
Sebastian stared, utterly still.
The second bundle was smaller, wrapped in a pale blue blanket. His son.
He looked at Emilia, stunned.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed laughter. "I couldn't tell you before. I wanted to see your face… exactly like this. Tasha's been helping me keep the secret."
Sebastian turned to Tasha, who stood in the doorway, grinning like a lunatic. "You knew?!"
Tasha shrugged. "She's persuasive."
Emotion flooded him all at once—shock, awe, and a love so fierce it left his chest aching. He turned back to Emilia, eyes glassy.
"Twins?"
She nodded. "Surprise."
He covered his face for a second, overcome, then dropped his hands and let out a laugh that was equal parts joy and disbelief.
"You sneaky, beautiful woman."
He kissed her, slow and grateful, then whispered, "You just gave me everything I never thought I could have."
Their daughter stirred, letting out a tiny cry—and Sebastian turned to lift her with practiced tenderness.
Then he moved to the second bassinet, scooping up their son with reverence.
He sat down at the edge of Emilia's bed, a baby in each arm, and looked at her—the woman who'd survived wars and betrayals, only to gift him a family full of love and light.
"So," she murmured, voice husky with fatigue and happiness, "what do you think?"
Sebastian shook his head, smiling as he looked at the twins.
"I think this is the beginning of our forever."
.....
Sebastian sat on the edge of Emilia's hospital bed, holding both miracles in his arms. The room had gone quiet, but the kind that buzzed with reverence—the kind of quiet that held more meaning than any words.
He stared at his newborns, their faces peaceful and angelic.
Emilia gently touched his arm. "Have you thought of names?"
Sebastian didn't answer right away. His eyes welled up as he cradled the baby girl against his chest. She had his lashes but Emilia's tiny, proud chin. She opened her eyes for the briefest second—and it shattered him.
"I want to name her… Hope," he whispered, voice breaking. "Because I never had any until you came into my life… and she's the proof that everything I was afraid to dream of can be real."
A single tear rolled down his cheek as he kissed her tiny forehead.
Emilia's breath hitched. "Hope," she echoed softly. "That's perfect."
Then he looked at the little boy in his other arm—smaller, but with a frown already forming between his brows, as if annoyed by the brightness of the world he'd just entered.
Sebastian laughed softly through his tears. "And him… Elian. From Elia, meaning 'God has answered.' Because I asked for a second chance at life, at love… and I got him."
His shoulders shook as the tears flowed, no longer held back.
Emilia reached up, cupping his cheek as she cried too. "Hope and Elian…"
"They're everything," Sebastian choked out. "I didn't know I could love like this."
Tasha watched silently from the doorway, wiping her own eyes. Even the nurses paused for a breath, moved by the sincerity in the room.
Hope squirmed in his arms and let out a tiny squeak.
Elian yawned dramatically, as if unimpressed with his father's tears.
Sebastian laughed again, a warm, unfiltered sound. "They already have attitudes."
He looked at Emilia, his whole world in one gaze. "Thank you, for them. For choosing me. For this life."
"I'd do it all over again," she whispered, reaching for his hand.
He leaned in, brushing his lips across her knuckles before whispering to his children, "You two are going to grow up knowing you were born from fire… but raised in love."