Sorry I couldn't give you a son

The sterile white of the hospital room felt stark against the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Kiara’s heart ached, a dull throb that had nothing to do with the lingering exhaustion of childbirth. She cradled one of her newborn daughters, her tiny fingers curled around Kiara’s thumb, and felt a profound sense of love, yet it was tinged with a sorrow she couldn’t quite shake. Milano sat beside her, his gaze tender as he watched her with their babies, but even his presence, usually a balm, couldn’t entirely soothe the unease that had settled in her chest.

“They’re beautiful, Kiara,” Milano murmured, his voice a husky rumble. He reached out, his thumb gently stroking the downy hair of the other twin. “Both of them.”

Kiara managed a weak smile, but her eyes remained fixed on the precious life she held. “They are,” she whispered, her voice catching. She looked up at Milano, her gaze earnest, filled with a regret that twisted her insides. “Milano,” she began, her voice barely above a breath, “I… I’m so sorry.”