Chapter 746 The Arrival
When Waresther had given birth to him, she had nearly lost her life. Her body never recovered. That memory had carved deep into Wyatt’s heart.
He adored children, yes–but he had never imagined asking Yunice to bear his. He knew too well how dangerous it could be.
And Yunice had taken that risk on her own. To want a child–his child–shook him to his core. The feeling was so tangled, equal parts fear, awe, and elation, it often left him restless.
He paced outside the delivery room, glancing at his watch again and again.
Half an hour…
An hour gone.
“Why isn’t it over yet?” he barked, rounding on the door. “Do these useless doctors even know what they’re doing?”
He raised his fist, ready to pound the steel when the door opened.
A young nurse flinched at the sight of his raised arm.
Wyatt seized her immediately. “How is she? Why has it taken so long without a sound? Do you even know how to deliver a baby?”
“Sir, calm down. The first labor is always longer.”
“But the other women are already done! Why is Yunice still in there? I want to see her—”
Before he finished, a strained but steady voice cut through from within: “Wyatt! Sit down and stop making a scene!”
Her low breath carried both pain and control.
The nurse shoved him back easily, closing the door.
Wyatt staggered two steps, crouched, and pressed a hand to his forehead.
Inside, Yunice kept her breathing measured, riding out each contraction.
The midwife soothed her. “First births take time. Once you’re fully dilated, it’ll be quick.”
“You could’ve chosen the cesarean Mr. Wyatt suggested–spare yourself the suffering,” the nurse added.
At ten centimeters, Yunice clutched the sheets, teeth grinding. “This is it. After this one, never again.”
If childbirth were too easy, she feared she’d forget the pain.
She endured in silence for a moment, then rasped, “What’s Wyatt doing out there?”
He’d been making noise earlier, but now there was none.
The nurse smothered a laugh. “Mr. Wyatt’s… on oxygen.”
“On oxygen?” Yunice nearly lost her composure. “He’s not the one giving birth!”
The nurse rushed to explain. “He was so anxious he started hyperventilating.”
Even the midwife chuckled.
Mortified, Yunice flushed red–just in time for another contraction to seize her.
Within minutes, the urge to push overwhelmed her. The midwife helped her onto the birthing bed.
Ten minutes later, a sharp smack echoed–followed by the piercing cry of a newborn.
Outside, Wyatt slowly straightened, eyes fixed on the door. That fierce, healthy wail filled the night, declaring the child’s arrival.
His throat tightened, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. His lips curved upward despite himself.
He was a father.
The door opened again, and a nurse stepped out.
“Sir, mother and son are both safe. Ms. Yunice asked me to tell you–stop pacing, stop fussing. If you’re idle, go call the family.”
Wyatt nodded, but his body leaned forward, trying to slip past her. When she blocked him, he frowned. “Why can’t I go in? If they’re fine, why can’t I see them?”
Normally the baby would have been brought out.
The nurse smiled. “Ms. Yunice insists. She says thieves steal less than coveters linger. She wants the baby right in her arms, not carried out.”
Wyatt lingered at the door, drinking in every sound, desperate for a glimpse of his son. But in the end, he saw nothing.
So he did the only thing left–he called each family and friend, voice steady for once, to announce the safe delivery.
Five years later.
Saunderss Hospital.
“Today’s meeting agenda, ma’am. Two complex surgeries scheduled for this afternoon’s consultation.”
Yunice nodded, taking the file as she walked toward her office.
“And these are the expansion plans from Wellingnes Pharma.”
She accepted them absently, stepped inside her office, and shut the door behind her.