My Forever
HARDIN’S POV
The sound of her voice—soft, hoarse, fragile—cracked something open inside me.
“Hardin…”
She said my name like it was home.
Like it was the one thing tethering her to this world.
I leaned in, cupping her face in trembling hands, brushing my thumbs over the delicate curve of her cheeks. Her skin was pale, but her eyes—God, her eyes—were open. Looking at me. Seeing me.
“You’re awake,” I breathed again, like if I said it enough, it would sink in. “You’re really here.”
Then I did the only thing I could.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close.
And immediately—
“Ah—!” she gasped, her body tensing sharply. “Hardin—my shoulder—”
I jerked back like I’d been electrocuted. “Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.”
Her face contorted in pain, her brows drawing together. But even through the discomfort, she gave me the faintest smile.
“It’s okay,” she rasped. “Just… not too tight.”
“I was just—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just—” I exhaled shakily. “I’m just so damn happy to see you.”
“I know,” she whispered, and for a moment, we just stared at each other.
I reached for her hand again, gently this time, bringing it to my lips. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Ariana looked past me then, her eyes blinking slowly as they adjusted to the room. When they landed on the figure standing quietly on the other side of the bed, I felt her fingers tense slightly in mine.
She was surprised.
I didn’t blame her.
My mother gave a soft smile, her expression full of something I hadn’t seen in her towards Ariana—warmth.
“Hi, Ariana,” she said gently. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
Ariana didn’t speak, just stared—wary, confused. I could see the questions dancing behind her tired gaze.
My mother stepped closer and did something that shocked us both.
She leaned down and kissed Ariana’s cheek.
“I know I haven’t always made things easy,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But you rest now. Get better, okay?”
Ariana blinked again, visibly taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something, but my mom just gave her hand a soft pat and turned to me.
“I have some things to take care of,” she said. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I nodded and walked her to the door. She paused in the hallway, glancing back at Ariana with a look that was maternal.
Then she left.
I returned to the bed and saw Ariana trying to sit up, her movements slow and pained.
“Hey, no,” I said quickly, reaching for the bed controls. “Don’t strain. Let me—”
“I’m fine,” she croaked.
“You were shot,” I reminded her gently. “Let me help.”
She gave a reluctant nod, and I adjusted the bed until she was reclined slightly. I noticed her licking her lips, her throat working.
I grabbed the cup with the straw and brought it to her lips. She sipped slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.
When she finally leaned back again, her voice was rough but clear. “What’s going on?”
I sat beside her, my hand still wrapped around hers.
“She apologized,” I said simply. “My mom. She admitted she was wrong about everything. About you. About us.”
Ariana blinked.
“And she said she won’t stand in the way of our relationship anymore.”
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
I leaned in. “Hey.” I touched her chin, gently lifting her gaze to mine. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes shimmered then, wet with tears she hadn’t let fall yet.
“How is she?” she asked softly.
I didn’t understand at first.
And then I did.
She meant her.
Her mother.
The woman who had taken bullets for her.
My heart clenched in my chest.
“She’s dead,” I said gently.
Ariana inhaled sharply, the sound raw and ragged.
The tears spilled over almost instantly, sliding down her cheeks like rain, and my chest split wide open.
“No,” she whispered. “No…”
I slid onto the bed beside her, careful of her shoulder, and wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me like she was drowning, her fingers curling into my hoodie.
“It hurts,” she choked. “It hurts so much.”
“I know, baby,” I whispered into her hair, rocking her gently.
“It hurts even more because she lied to me,” Ariana sobbed. “For five years. I thought she was my real mom. I—I believed it. But my real mom, my real mom… she died five years ago.”
I stilled.
“What?”
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me, her eyes red and brimming with anguish.
And then she told me everything.
Not just about the woman who’d died for her—but the lies, the betrayal, the truth she’d learned just before everything went to hell.
And I listened, silent, stunned.
My brain was still trying to process it all, but my heart… my heart broke for her.
I didn’t need to ask more.
I just pulled her close again, letting her cry it all out in my arms.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “God, I’m so sorry, Ariana.”
She shook her head against my chest. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I feel like I’m made of lies.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You’re made of strength. Of fire. Of love. And you’re still here. That’s all that matters to me.”
She went quiet.
Breathing.
Crying.
Holding on.
And then I said the thing that had been burning a hole in my chest since the moment I found out.
“We’ll start our own family,” I whispered into her hair.
She pulled back slightly, brows drawn in confusion.
“What?”
I cupped her face again, brushing her tears away with my thumbs.
“I mean it,” I said. “We’ll build something real. Something true. Just you and me and…”
I hesitated for a second, searching her eyes.
“And our baby.”
Her eyes widened.
“What…?”
I smiled gently. “You’re pregnant, Ariana. You’re going to be a mom.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her hand slowly, almost unconsciously, slid down to her stomach.
“I—what?”
“You’re carrying our child,” I said, my voice thick. “I found out while you were unconscious. The nurse told me. And I’ve never been so scared… or so happy… in my entire life.”
Tears welled again in her eyes, but this time they were different.
Not just from grief.
But from shock. From wonder. From the soft bloom of something new.
She pressed her hand to her belly, her palm flat over the hospital gown.
And then she looked up at me.
And she crumbled.
Sobbing, breathless, beautiful.
I pulled her into my arms again, letting her weep against my chest.
“I’m going to protect you,” I said, kissing her temple. “Both of you. I swear it, Ariana. No one’s going to hurt you again. Not now. Not ever.”
She clung to me, her hand still on her stomach. “I didn’t know… I didn’t feel anything.”
“You’ve been through hell,” I said softly. “But now… now we get to heal. Together.”
She looked up at me through her lashes. “You’re really okay with this? With… a baby?”
I laughed quietly, kissing the tears off her cheek. “I’m thrilled. Terrified, yes. But thrilled.”
She gave a watery smile.
“I love you,” I whispered. “And I love this little life growing inside you. I’ll give you both everything I have.”
Her lips trembled.
And then she whispered, “I love you too.”
I kissed her then—softly, slowly. Like a promise. Like a beginning.
And as the morning sun spilled gold over the room, touching her hair like a halo, I knew one thing for certain:
This woman—this fierce, broken, beautiful woman—was my forever.
And together, no matter what came next, we’d be unbreakable.
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