It Should Have Been Like This (The Revised Version)

Chapter 97: He'll be fine

I sat on the edge of Zayne's bed, my fingers curled lightly around his small hand. The warmth of his skin was reassuring, a reminder that he was here, safe, and alive. My eyes drifted to his face—soft, peaceful, a stark contrast to the pale, exhausted look he'd worn when we found him. Now, his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, the color slowly returning to his cheeks.

Five days. Five long, agonizing days since he collapsed in my arms at the police station. Five days he had spent unconscious, his body fighting to recover from starvation and the sheer strain of his ordeal.

My thumb brushed against the back of his hand, and I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. He hadn't eaten for nearly five days during the abduction, yet he found the strength to free himself, to outsmart those monsters, and to drive to safety. It was extraordinary, a feat beyond anything I could have imagined for a boy his age.

And yet, my chest tightened painfully. He was nine. A child. My child.

I closed my eyes, my free hand clutching at my skirt as guilt clawed at me. He should never have had to endure such horror. While part of me was fiercely proud of his resilience, the larger part of me was broken. What kind of mother lets her son face such danger alone?

My mind flickered back to what Rominic had told me. By the time he and Lilith had reached the abductors' hideout, the place had been a bloodbath. Bodies were strewn across the floor, lifeless, surrounded by pools of crimson. Whoever had orchestrated this wanted to send a message—a terrifying one.

I sighed heavily, turning my gaze toward the window. The sunlight filtering through the curtains cast faint golden patterns on the floor, but I couldn't bring myself to open them fully. The thought of losing Zayne, of never holding him again, made my hands tremble. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring the edges of the room.

My lips quivered as sobs began to spill out, unbidden and uncontrollable. I released Zayne's hand and covered my face, the weight of it all finally crashing down on me.

It was impossible to ignore the memories that crept in, uninvited. The life we had before—before Rominic re-entered our lives. We had been trapped in an endless cycle of poverty, struggling to put food on the table, drowning in debt. Our health had suffered, our spirits even more so.

I clenched my fists and forced the thoughts to stop. ‘Don't compare that life to this one,’ I scolded myself silently. I had everything now: my children's comfort, my mother's legacy, the support of old friends, and the love of my life. Even if we were targets now—likely because of one of Rominic's powerful enemies—I couldn't wish for anything different.

The last decade had been a nightmare, but now I was back in paradise.

The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up quickly, wiping at my eyes as Rominic stepped into the room.

He was smiling faintly at first, but the moment his eyes landed on my tear-streaked face, the expression vanished. His winter-gray eyes, usually so sharp and commanding, softened with worry.

"Lavender," he said gently, crossing the room in quick strides.

He sank onto the bed beside me, his hands immediately reaching for my face. His fingers were warm as they cupped my cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears with practiced tenderness. He tilted my chin slightly, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Stop," he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. "You don't need to do this to yourself. Zayne is going to be fine. He's strong, just like his mother."

His words should have comforted me, and in some small way, they did. But they also unlocked the floodgate of emotions I'd been holding back. Instead of calming down, I felt a fresh wave of tears building.