Chapter Thirty-One - You’re The Only One I Have Now

The first thing Tiara noticed when she opened her eyes was the silence.

Not the frightening kind.

This one was soft.

Controlled.

The kind of silence that existed in places where people spoke in low voices and every sound seemed carefully measured.

She blinked slowly.

For a few seconds, she had no idea where she was.

The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. White. Perfectly smooth. A small recessed light glowed faintly above her, and somewhere beside her, a machine gave a quiet, rhythmic beep.

Tiara swallowed.

Then the memories returned.

The theatre.

The bright lights.

The voices.

The fear.

Her baby.

Her eyes widened.

She tried to move.

A sharp soreness travelled through her body, forcing her to stop halfway.

“Ah…”

She closed her eyes again and breathed carefully.

Right.

She had just had surgery.

Her body felt strangely heavy, as though sleep had wrapped itself around every muscle and refused to let go. Her head was clearer now, though. The fog that had followed the anaesthesia was finally beginning to lift.

She turned her head.

That was when she realized she was no longer in the theatre or the recovery area.

She was in a private room.

And not just any private room.

Tiara stared.

“Ah.”

The room looked more like a small luxury apartment than a hospital room.

The bed beneath her was wide and comfortable, surrounded by clean white sheets and neatly arranged pillows. Beside it stood a sleek bedside cabinet with a small lamp, a call button and a glass of water.

Across the room was a television mounted neatly on the wall.

There was a small dining area too—a polished table with two chairs sitting beside a wide window covered by cream-coloured curtains.

Then there was the little kitchenette.

Tiara stared at it for several seconds.

There were cabinets above and below the counter, a small sink, a microwave and even a compact refrigerator tucked neatly beneath the counter.

Everything looked spotless.

The bathroom door stood slightly open, revealing a bright, tiled interior.

Even the air smelled clean.

Not overwhelmingly like medicine.

Just clean.

Fresh.

Expensive.

Tiara slowly settled back into the pillow.

Her eyes moved around the room again.

“God…”

A tired smile touched her lips.

“Daniel.”

Of course.

Who else?

She remembered the way he had handled everything.

The hospital.

The arrangements.

The constant checking.

The fact that nobody had treated her like she was some troublesome young girl who had accidentally found herself in a hospital bed.

Daniel had made sure she was taken care of.

Really taken care of.

Tiara stared at the ceiling.

“God, thank You.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Thank You so much.”

She took another slow breath.

Then her hand moved instinctively toward her stomach.

Her palm rested there.

She froze.

The smile disappeared.

Her heart gave one hard thump.

“Wait…”

Her eyes darted around the room.

“Where is my baby?”

She pushed herself up slightly.

Pain immediately reminded her that she was not as strong as she felt.

She gripped the sheet.

“My baby…”

The door opened.

A nurse walked in carrying a small tray.

She stopped when she saw Tiara sitting up.

“Good morning, ma.”

Tiara barely heard the greeting.

“Where is my baby?”

The nurse smiled gently.

“Good morning first.”

“Please, where is my baby?”

Her voice came out faster this time.

“Is she okay? Is she fine? Did something happen? Why isn't she here?”

The nurse placed the tray carefully on the table.

“Calm down, ma.”

“How can I calm down? Where is she?”

“She is perfectly fine.”

Tiara stared at her.

“She's fine?”

“Very fine.”

“Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“She's breathing well?”

The nurse nodded.

“Yes.”

“She isn't sick?”

“No.”

“She didn't—”

“Ma.”

The nurse laughed softly.

“Your baby is fine.”

Tiara finally released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Her shoulders dropped against the pillows.

“Oh, thank God.”

The nurse pulled the chair closer.

“You were still recovering when they transferred you here. You had been under anaesthesia, and you needed to rest. The nurses kept the baby with them so you wouldn't have to worry about handling her while you were still drowsy.”

Tiara nodded slowly.

That made sense.

She looked down at herself.

“I slept that long?”

“A little while.”

The nurse picked up the tray.

“You need to take your medication first.”

Tiara looked at the tablets.

Then at the fruit beside them.

“Do I really have to?”

The nurse gave her a look.

“Yes.”

Tiara sighed dramatically.

“I've just given birth and you're already disturbing me.”

“You want to recover, don't you?”

Tiara muttered something under her breath.

The nurse smiled.

“Take your medicine.”

Tiara obeyed.

She swallowed the tablets with water, then reached for a piece of fruit.

The nurse watched until she had eaten enough.

“Good.”

Tiara wiped her fingers.

“Can I see my baby now?”

“Very soon.”

“How soon?”

The nurse glanced at the clock.

“Give me about twenty minutes.”

Tiara groaned.

“Twenty minutes?”

“You've waited this long.”

“That was before I knew she was outside.”

The nurse laughed.

“Rest, ma.”

Tiara leaned back reluctantly.

Twenty minutes suddenly felt like two hours.

She kept looking toward the door.

Every sound from the corridor made her turn her head.

Then, finally—

The door opened.

The nurse returned.

This time, she was pushing a tiny bassinet.

Tiara stopped breathing for a second.

Her eyes immediately fell on the little bundle lying inside.

There she was.

Her daughter.

Her baby.

The nurse brought the bassinet closer to the bed.

Tiara's fingers tightened around the sheet.

She stared.

The baby was dressed in a beautiful little outfit, carefully wrapped and tucked beneath a soft blanket.

Her cheeks were round and delicate.

Her eyes were small, still heavy with the sleepiness of a newborn.

Her tiny hands rested near her face.

Even her fingernails looked impossibly small.

Tiara's lips parted.

“My princess…”

Her voice cracked.

She looked at the nurse, then back at the baby.

“Oh God.”

A laugh escaped her, but tears followed immediately.

“My daughter is so beautiful.”

She slowly reached out.

One finger touched the baby's tiny hand.

The baby moved.

Barely.

But enough.

Tiara's entire expression softened.

“I can't believe you're here.”

She shook her head slowly.

“My God.”

She leaned closer.

“You're real.”

Her eyes filled again.

“You're really my baby.”

The nurse smiled quietly and stepped back.

Tiara couldn't stop staring.

Her eyebrows were delicate—not too thick, not too thin.

A small amount of hair covered her head, enough to make Tiara smile.

“Look at your hair.”

She chuckled through her tears.

“You already have hair. Hmm.”

The baby made a tiny sound.

Tiara's smile widened.

“Oh, you're talking already?”

She shook her head.

“You've come to this world and you're already disturbing me.”

The nurse laughed.

Tiara wiped beneath her eyes.

“My princess…”

Her voice became quieter.

“You are the only one I have.”

She looked at the baby's face for a long moment.

“And I love you so much already.”

Her throat tightened.

“I don't want you to ever experience the things I experienced.”

She gently touched the baby's cheek.

“You deserve better.”

Her eyes closed briefly.

“I'll do everything I can to give you that.”

The baby shifted again.

Tiara smiled.

“Don't worry.”

She looked at her daughter as though she were trying to memorize every tiny detail.

“You've done enough. You've come. Now just enjoy your life.”

She laughed softly.

“My lovely child.”

For a while, she simply watched her.

No noise.

No past.

No judgment.

No questions about tomorrow.

Just a mother looking at the little person she had spent months carrying and worrying about.

For the first time in a very long time, Tiara felt something inside her settle.

Not because everything was suddenly perfect.

But because there was finally something in front of her that felt completely real.

Something she could hold.

Something she could love.

Something that made all the uncertainty of the past few months feel like it had led somewhere.

Later, the nurse helped her freshen up and checked on her recovery.

Tiara moved carefully, still sore and weak from the surgery.

Every movement required patience.

She hated that.

Tiara was used to doing things herself.

Now even sitting up properly required assistance.

Still, she listened.

She took her medication.

She rested.

And every few minutes, her eyes wandered back to the bassinet.

As though she needed to make sure the baby was still there.

By afternoon, the room had become brighter.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, falling softly across the floor.

Tiara had just settled back against her pillows when the door swung open.

“Madam!”

Tiara closed her eyes.

She already knew that voice.

“Aria.”

Aria appeared at the doorway with a bag in one hand and an expression that suggested she had been waiting for this moment all day.

She looked at Tiara.

Then at the baby.

Then back at Tiara.

“So you actually did it.”

Tiara stared at her.

“Did what?”

“Had the baby.”

Tiara gave her a tired look.

“Aria…”

“What?”

“You're annoying.”

“And you're alive, so we're both winning.”

Tiara shook her head.

Aria dropped the bag on the chair.

“How are you?”

Tiara crossed her arms weakly.

“Now you care?”

Aria placed a hand on her chest.

“Ah-ah. Look at this woman.”

She pointed dramatically at Tiara.

“I came all the way here.”

“Get the fuck out.”

Aria gasped.

“See this one.”

She turned immediately toward the bassinet.

“Fine. I'll leave you.”

She walked over to the baby.

“Princess…”

Tiara watched her.

Aria leaned over the bassinet.

“Your mother said I should leave.”

The baby made a tiny sound.

Aria's eyes widened.

“Did you hear that?”

Tiara rolled her eyes.

“She sneezed.”

“No.”

Aria pointed at the baby.

“She answered me.”

“She did not.”

“She did.”

Aria nodded confidently.

“She supports me.”

Tiara let out a tired laugh.

“You are impossible.”

Aria ignored her.

“Princess, don't worry. Auntie Aria is here.”

Tiara groaned.

“Don't start.”

“I'll take care of you.”

She paused.

“Your mother, I mean.”

Tiara smiled despite herself.

Aria looked back at her.

“Seriously, though.”

Her voice softened.

“You need to rest.”

Tiara nodded.

“I know.”

“I'll help with whatever I can. Food, errands, anything.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.”

Aria shrugged.

“But I'm doing it anyway.”

Tiara stared at her for a moment.

Then she smiled.

“You're dramatic.”

“And you're stubborn.”

“True.”

“Very true.”

They both laughed.

Aria pulled the chair closer to the bed.

“Oh, and Daniel said he'll come this evening.”

Tiara's expression changed slightly.

“Daniel?”

“Yes.”

Aria nodded.

“He called me.”

“What did he say?”

“That I should make sure you rest.”

Tiara scoffed.

“Of course.”

Aria folded her arms.

“Honestly, I don't want Daniel's problem.”

Tiara frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Aria pointed at her.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

She shook her head dramatically.

“When it comes to you, that man can do anything.”

She sighed.

“Make e no go kill me.”

Tiara laughed.

“Drama queen.”

“Say whatever you want.”

Aria looked toward the bassinet again.

Then back at Tiara.

“But seriously, babe…”

Her voice softened.

“You're a mother now.”

Tiara looked at her daughter.

The words still sounded strange.

A mother.

She smiled.

“Hmm.”

She looked down at the tiny bundle sleeping peacefully beside her.

“My princess.”

Aria smiled too.

For once, she didn't have a joke ready.

The room became quiet.

The afternoon light rested gently across the floor, and somewhere beyond the windows, the hospital continued with its usual rhythm—footsteps in the corridor, distant voices, the soft movement of nurses going from room to room.

Tiara leaned back against her pillows.

Her body was tired.

Her incision hurt.

Her life was still complicated.

There were still questions she hadn't answered.

People she hadn't heard from.

A future she couldn't predict.

But beside her was a tiny girl with delicate fingers and a head full of soft hair.

Her daughter.

Tiara reached out and rested her hand lightly against the edge of the bassinet.

“My princess.”

This time, she smiled without tears.

And for the first time, the future did not look like something she had to survive.

It looked like something she could build.