<b>94 </b>


    Sienna’s POV


    A soft knock on the door made me turn from the window. That afternoon, the sunlight streamed gently through the thin curtains of the hospital’s VIP room, warming the air that usually felt cold and sterile. I thought it was a nurseing to check my blood pressure or bring medicine, but as the door opened, the sound of small, quick footsteps made my heart skip.


    “Noah,” My voice caught, barely more than a whisper.


    The boy stood at the doorway, his round eyes radiating joy, then without hesitation he ran straight toward me. “Mommy!”


    I barely had time to open my arms before his small body wrapped tightly around me. His warmth made all the exhaustion seem to evaporate. The fresh, soft scent of childhood filled my senses, and I almost cried. It had been so long since Ist saw him.


    “Sweetheart, Mommy missed you so much,” I whispered, stroking his hair.


    Noah pulled back slightly, his innocent face filled with worry. “Daddy said Mommy was sick in the hospital, Noah was scared Mommy was really, really sick.”


    My heart sank at the tremor in his voice.


    I hugged him tighter, as though reassuring myself that my child was truly here in my arms. These past few days I had only heard his voice over the phone warm, but distant, filled with a longing that couldn’t be answered. Now, his presence was so real, making my chest ache with fullness. Something melted inside me, something I could no longer hold back, like a dam finally breaking.


    His small body pressed against my stomach reminded me just how fragile I was without him. All this time I had tried so hard to be strong, to reject weakness, to pretend I could stand on my own. But when that innocent face looked up at me with clear, worried eyes, all my defenses copsed. I didn’t have to pretend anymore.


    I stroked his back gently, noticing how much taller he seemed than thest time I had truly made time for him. There was a faint line in his jaw now, subtle changes I had missed because I had been too busy. Guilt pierced me sharply. How many moments had I lost simply because I was too focused on work? How many times had I turned away his hugs, iming I was tired or busy?


    From the corner of my eye, I caught Liam’s figure standing calmly in the room. He didn’t say a word, just watched us with an expression I couldn’t quite read. There was calmness there, relief, but also something deeper perhaps regret, or maybe hope? I wasn’t sure. But for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to push him away. His presence wasn’t intrusive. On the contrary, it brought with it a strange sense of safety once I realized he was the one who had brought Noah here.


    94


    I turned my focus back to Noah. His tiny hand gripped mine tightly, as though afraid I might disappear <b>if </b>he let go. That grip made me realize how precious my presence was to him. Not as someone perfect, not as a mother who always got everything right, but simply as someone who was there. My being here was enough for him.


    My eyes shifted to the small bouquet of flowers now lying on the bedside table. Pale purple roses with simple white ents are a choice so sweet and thoughtful. Only Noah would think of something like that. Beside it sat a neatly decorated box of strawberry tart, clearly chosen with care. My heart trembled. This child, though so small, had worked so hard to make me feel loved.


    Tears welled up in my eyes, but I held them back so he wouldn’t worry more. Still, in my heart <b>I </b>knew I would remember this moment forever. The moment I was reminded that happiness doesn’t alwayse from perfection, but from small, sincere love given unconditionally.


    I smiled softly, trying to ease his fears. “Mommy is so much better now. I just need some rest. See? Mommy can still smile, right?”


    He nodded, though his lips quivered slightly as if holding back tears.


    I suddenly noticed Liam standing closer to the door, watching us with that same unreadable expression. There was more than just relief in his gaze, there was warmth, something I hadn’t seen in a long time.


    “Noah, did you bring something for Mommy?” Liam asked as he stepped inside.


    “Oh right!” Noah hurriedly let go of me and dashed to the small table near the door, pulling something from a paper bag. Then, with a face full of pride, he handed me a bouquet of delicate white roses. “This is for Mommy. So Mommy can get well soon.”


    I froze for a moment, inhaling the scent of the flowers. Their freshness filled my nose, but what touched me most was the fact that such a young child had thought of this. “They’re so beautiful, sweetheart.


    Mommy loves them, thank you.”


    Noah beamed, his eyes narrowing with joy. “Noah picked them himself, Mommy. Daddy just paid.”


    His innocent words made meugh softly. I nced at Liam, who smiled faintly, letting Noah take all the


    credit.


    “Not just flowers, Mommy,” Noah added, hurrying back to the table. This time he lifted a white cake box with a red ribbon on top. “It’s a strawberry tart. Pretty like Mommy!”


    Warmth flooded my chest. “Wow, Mommy feels so very special today,” I said, carefully taking the box


    from him.


    The cake box felt cool in my hands, yet somehow brought a warmth I couldn’t exin. I set it gently on myp, brushing my fingers across the red ribbon as though touching something more than just a gift. It wasn’t only a cake it was a symbol of care, a small effort from a child who only wanted to see his mother


    94


    happy. And Noah, with all his innocence and love, had given it to me.


    I looked at his glowing face, so proud of his little surprise. His cheeks were flushed, and there was that unmistakable sparkle of childhood in his eyes that reminded me of the times when the world felt simple:ughter was enough, a smile was enough, and everything was beautiful. Noah’s smile was a healer that no hospital medicine could ever rival.


    I slowly set the box down on the bedside table, then pulled Noah back into my arms. His small body felt so alive, so real, filling the emptiness inside me that I often didn’t dare admit was there. There was a


    strength that flowed through me just by holding him as if every wound, both in body and in heart, was


    slowly mending.


    From the corner of my vision, Liam was still standing there, calm, unobtrusive. His gaze lingered on us, yet it demanded nothing. He kept his distance, but there was an undeniable presence, a quiet involvement. For a moment, I felt something unusual, an unspoken gratitude. Without him, Noah wouldn’t be here now, bringing flowers and cake, bringing color to a white room that usually felt so


    hollow.