POV: Austin Chen.(Flashback – 17 Years Ago)
Hospitals always smelled like bleach and fear.
I was pacing.
Again.
The nurse at the desk had already glared at me three times for the noise my boots made against the linoleum. I didn't care. I hadn't sat down in hours. Not since Vivienne was wheeled into the emergency room screaming that she wanted me out.
"She doesn't want you in the room," one of the nurses had said gently. "She's in a lot of pain."
Pain. Right.
Vivienne had been in pain for years. Just not the kind any of us could fix.
I stared at the red light above the door like it could somehow tell me if everything was okay. My hands were in fists. My knuckles were raw from biting them.
I don't know what I expected, honestly.
I was twenty. I'd just stepped into my father's business. I wore suits I couldn't breathe in. I signed things I didn't understand. I kissed a girl I thought I loved and watched her become a stranger.
And now…
Now I was going to be a father.
The red light blinked off.
I froze.
A nurse stepped out. She was holding a pink blanket in her arms. She looked at me with a strange expression — a mix of pity and something softer.
"She doesn't want to see her," she said. "Said she's too tired. But someone should hold her. Are you—?"
I nodded. Couldn't speak.
Could barely breathe.
The nurse came forward and placed the bundle into my arms like she was handing me something breakable.
She was.
And then I looked down.
And saw you.
Tiny. Red-faced. Wrapped up like a burrito with just your nose and scrunched-up eyes showing. You weren't crying. You were… blinking. Like the world was too bright. Like you weren't sure about it yet.
God, you were small.
So small.
I sat down slowly in the corner chair. My legs didn't feel like they worked properly. I adjusted you in my arms, terrified I'd drop you, or crush you, or—
You made a noise.
A soft, hiccupy sound. And then a yawn.
I forgot how to breathe.
"Hi," I whispered.
My voice cracked.
You blinked up at me, completely unimpressed.
"I'm your dad. I… I don't know how to do this. I don't even know who I am most days. But you—" I paused, voice shaking. "You're mine. And I swear to God, Ava… I will never, ever, leave you."
I didn't even know Vivienne had chosen the name. It was scribbled on the clipboard beside her bed. Ava Chen.
But the second I said it out loud… it was you.
Ava.
My girl.
My heart.
You sneezed.
I panicked.
But the nurse just laughed softly and patted my shoulder. "She's fine. Babies sneeze."
I held you closer anyway.
And right there, in that too-bright hospital room, with fluorescent lights flickering and my world upside down — I realized something.
I wasn't scared anymore.
Not of being a father. Not of Vivienne leaving. Not of the empire waiting outside these walls.
Because I had you now.
And nothing else mattered.