Chapter 16: The Night That Changed Everything
The monsoon clouds clung to the sky like secrets too heavy to spill. The village had been unusually quiet that day. Even the wind seemed to know something was about to happen.
Inside their little thatched hut, Avrielle sat on the woven cot, her arms wrapped tightly around her swollen belly. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, pain slowly beginning to ripple through her lower back and down her thighs. Sweat clung to her forehead despite the cold breeze wafting in.
She was only sixteen.
"Ian…" her voice trembled as she looked over at him.
Ian had just finished folding a small set of clothes they'd been gifted by one of the village women. He turned, catching the sheen of pain in her eyes, the twitch of her jaw, and how her body curled in discomfort. In a second, he was by her side.
"What is it? Are you alright?" he asked, crouching low, hands hovering near her stomach as though afraid to touch.
She nodded weakly. "It… it started. I think it's time."
Ian froze. A thousand thoughts shot through him like lightning. The time had come. Too soon. Too suddenly.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, more to himself than her.
Avrielle let out a sharp gasp, clutching her belly. Her fingernails dug into her skin. "Yes. Oh God—Ian—it hurts."
He sprang into action.
"Wait here. Don't move. I'm getting the old woman. Just—stay with me, okay?"
She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.
Ian sprinted barefoot across the mud path toward the healer's house, a small hut at the edge of the village. His lungs burned, his heart pounded against his ribs like a wild drum.
When he reached, he barely got the words out. "She—Avrielle—she's in pain. It's time. Please come!"
The old woman, wizened and silent, merely nodded and picked up her cloth bag, filled with herbs and linen. She motioned to two younger village women to follow.
Ian led them back, his steps frantic.
Inside the hut, Avrielle was curled on her side, trying to breathe through the pain, but the contractions were fast now. Her eyes fluttered open when she saw Ian.
"Don't leave me," she whispered.
"I'm right here," he said, kneeling beside her and brushing the hair off her damp forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
The healer and the other women gently ushered Ian out of the main room, guiding him to sit just outside.
"She's young," one of them whispered in the native tongue. "Too young."
Ian didn't understand the words, but the tone pierced through him.
He sat on the dirt outside, his head in his hands, knees shaking. From inside, muffled moans filled the air, rising in intensity until they became screams. His heart twisted at every sound. He wanted to rush in. To hold her hand. To wipe her tears. But they wouldn't let him.
And maybe that was for the best. Because what if something went wrong? What if she—
No.
He shook his head violently, forcing the thought away.
This was supposed to be a happy time. He'd dreamt of this. The baby. Their new life. The little one they'd made together in love—even if he didn't remember everything clearly.
But now, all he felt was fear.
"I should have done more," he murmured, voice trembling. "She's just a kid… I should have protected her."
Hours passed like decades.
It was well past midnight now. The stars blinked through the clouds. The rain had started again—light, tapping gently against the thatched roof.
Then finally, a cry pierced the air.
A baby's cry.
And then… silence from Avrielle.
Ian jumped up, heart in his throat. "Avrielle?!"
The door creaked open, and the old woman stepped out. Her face was unreadable.
"She's alive," she said in a raspy voice. "But she lost a lot of blood. Very weak."
Ian rushed in without waiting.
Avrielle lay on the bed, pale and exhausted, her body limp. She turned her head slowly as Ian approached, her eyes meeting his.
And then—her lips curved into the softest, most fragile smile.
"Hey…" she whispered, barely audible.
Ian's breath caught. He fell to his knees beside her, pressing her hand to his lips.
"I was so scared," he whispered. "You scared me so much."
"I'm okay," she whispered back. "We're okay."
Just then, one of the women entered, holding a tiny bundle in her arms.
The baby.
Wrapped in a faded cloth, the infant squirmed and let out a soft cry. Ian blinked in awe. The world went quiet.
The woman gently placed the baby in Avrielle's arms.
Ian looked from the baby to Avrielle, his chest swelling, breaking, and melting all at once.
"It's a girl," the woman said.
Avrielle cradled the baby against her chest. "She's beautiful," she whispered.
Ian ran a hand through his hair, kneeling beside them, staring down at the little life they'd created.
A girl.
His daughter.
"We're parents now," Avrielle said, and even though her voice was shaking, her eyes were steady.
Ian reached out and touched the baby's tiny hand. She wrapped her fingers around his pinky.
"She's so small," he breathed. "So perfect."
Avrielle closed her eyes for a moment. She was drifting. The exhaustion was winning.
Ian pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to the baby's. "Thank you," he whispered. "For being strong. For making it."
"I love you," she murmured.
"I love you more."
**
That night, Ian sat awake beside them. The baby nestled in his arms now, asleep. He didn't know what kind of future awaited them. Didn't know how they'd raise a child in this village, away from everything.
But for now, it didn't matter.
His world was in his arms.
And it had never felt more real.