Kamille’s POV

As I gazed into Zeke’s eyes, I realized how easily I trusted him. His reassuring touch on my hands after the call made me question everything. Was he always like this, or had he changed? It felt as though I was meeting him for the first time. My grandmother Monica’s wise words echoed in my mind like a comforting melody: You cannot compare who a person is when they love you and when they don’t—they are two completely different people.

As I pondered this, questions crept into my mind like shadows: Did Zeke truly love me? Could I completely believe in his love?

“Kamille, are you okay?” Zeke’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present. His concern was evident in his furrowed brow and the gentle squeeze of his hand.

I offered a small smile, masking my turmoil. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“Come on. You need to rest,” he said, guiding me toward the hospital’s private lounge.

As Zeke gently guided me to a seat, insisting I rest, the door swung open, and a figure in white entered—the doctor.

“Ms. Kamille?” she called, her tone gentle yet authoritative.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Mr. Reid,” she greeted Zeke before turning back to me. Her expression softened, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. “I have some good news. Royer is awake and asking for his mummy.”

The words hung in the air like a lifeline, filling me with overwhelming gratitude and hope. Without hesitation, I rose, the need to see my son propelling me forward.

“Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much,” I murmured, barely able to contain my emotions.

The doctor stepped aside, allowing me to enter Royer’s private ward. My heart soared at the sight of my son, his small head engulfed in bandages.

“My baby, my baby,” I whispered hoarsely, tears brimming in my eyes as I rushed to his side.

Royer’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of my voice, his gaze locking onto mine with confusion and relief. “Mummy?”

I gathered him into my arms, showering his bandaged forehead with kisses as tears of joy streamed down my cheeks. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

“I want to go home, Mummy,” Royer murmured.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I reassured him, my voice trembling. “You’ll go home soon; we just want you to be fine first.” Royer nodded and nestled into my arms.

“But Mummy, where’s Tyris? Where’s Reon? Where’s Torin?” His voice was tinged with curiosity.

I offered a reassuring smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’ll be here soon.”

Instead of the expected “yes, Mummy,” Royer’s gaze flickered past me, his eyes squinting in confusion.

“Dad, is that you?” he whispered, his expression a mixture of confusion and hope.

I turned to follow his gaze, my heart skipping a beat as I locked eyes with Zeke. Tears welled up at the sight of him.

I swallowed hard, speaking past the lump in my throat. “Don’t worry, Royer. Dad will come see you soon, okay?” Royer nodded.

The doctor entered, and I braced myself for the inevitable conversation. Before I could speak, Zeke stepped forward, his voice steady and determined.

“You can talk to me,” he insisted, his gaze unwavering as he met the doctor’s eyes.

The doctor hesitated, her surprise evident. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reid, I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine,” Zeke interjected, his tone gentle yet firm. “As long as Royer’s okay, that’s all that matters.”

With a nod, the doctor motioned for Zeke to follow her; their hushed conversation followed. I strained to hear, my heart pounding with anxiety.

After what felt like an eternity, Zeke returned, his expression grave yet reassuring. “Kamille, Royer has a concussion, but he’ll be fine. He lost some blood, but they’re treating him for it.”

Relief flooded through me, washing away my fear. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. “I really, really appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t here.”

Zeke’s eyes softened. “Don’t worry, Kamille. I’ll always be here.”

Royer then sleepily but determinedly requested to see his brothers. My heart swelled with pride at his resilience.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I reassured him, kissing his forehead. “They’ll be here soon, I promise.”

But as I glanced up, I caught Zeke’s gaze fixed on his phone. Before I could ask, he looked up, meeting my gaze with a knowing smile.

“They’re here,” he said simply, his voice tinged with excitement.

I started to rise, but Zeke gently placed a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, Kamille,” he said softly. “I’ll go bring them in. You stay here with Royer.”

Gratitude flooded me. “Thank you so much, Zeke,” I whispered.

As Zeke left, I turned back to my son. “Your siblings are here, Royer,” I said gently. “You’ll see them soon.”

But as I watched Zeke go, Royer’s sleepy voice interrupted my thoughts. “Why is Dad going? Will I see him again?” His words were laced with uncertainty.

I brushed a gentle hand against his cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I assured him, forcing a smile. “You’ll see him again. Mummy will make sure of that.”

Royer tried to smile, but a yelp of pain escaped him. “Hey, hey, take it easy, okay?” I soothed him.

The door burst open, and Royer’s siblings rushed to his bedside. I breathed a sigh of relief as they converged around him, their voices a cacophony of concern and love. Thankfully, the room was spacious. They bombarded me with questions.

“Mummy, I hope Royer will be fine.” “Mummy, Royer will not die, right?” “Mummy, Royer…”

I held up a hand. “He’s fine, my darlings,” I said, my voice steady. “And once he’s feeling better, we’ll all go out for our favorite ice cream.”

Their mood lightened, their worries momentarily forgotten. I watched Reon look at Zeke, a flicker of something passing between them, but I pushed the thought aside.

Tyris piped up, his eyes wide. “Can I sleep beside Royer?”

Royer interjected with a mischievous grin. “No!” His siblings laughed.

I smiled, grateful for the reprieve. As Tyris and Torin continued to joke with Royer, I stepped aside, needing a moment. Reon joined me, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Will Royer be fine?” he asked quietly.

I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Yes, love, Royer will be fine. The doctors are taking good care of him.”

He nodded, relief crossing his features. “When will we go home?” he asked.

“Real soon, sweetheart,” I assured him. “Just a little while longer.” He smiled and returned to his siblings.

I observed my children, marveling at their strength. As evening wore on, I knew we couldn’t stay indefinitely. “Alright kids, get ready to leave soon.”

To my surprise, they protested, pleading to stay with their brother. “We don’t want to go,” they insisted. “We want to stay with Royer.”

I sighed. There wasn’t enough room, and yet I couldn’t bear to separate them.

Before I could voice my concerns, Zeke stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Kamille,” he said softly. “I have a penthouse nearby where the kids can sleep. Or, if you’re not comfortable with that, we can arrange for more beds.”

I hesitated. I was grateful for his offer, but hesitant to accept his help.

“Thank you so much, Zeke,” I murmured. “But I don’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already have.”

Zeke shook his head. “You’re not inconveniencing me, Kamille,” he insisted. “The kids can sleep at my place. I’ll watch over them, I promise.”