CHAPTER 118: BOTH WHOLE AND SHATTERED

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, unable to stand still as I paced back and forth.

My chest felt tight as I kept adjusting my clothes over and over again.

"Mom, you’ve been standing there in front of the mirror forever," Egypt said exaggeratedly, her tired eyes watching me since earlier. "Aren’t you going to be late for work?"

I glanced at her, then at my wristwatch, realizing how long I’d been standing there.

I looked at Egypt and Paris, who were both staring at me.

I could see the exhaustion in their faces from the day at the amusement park.

After we’d returned, I had quickly made an excuse about needing to go to the restaurant where I worked. But in truth, it was already evening, and my real plan was to go to the hospital and visit the address Bern had sent me—to see Cairo.

I didn’t know why, but I had been restless all afternoon. My mind and body were tense, caught somewhere between fear and longing.

I had already decided that tonight, I would see my youngest son. Yet even before seeing him, my heart ached as if it had been cracked open.

I felt like I was floating, empty. No matter how carefully I ironed my clothes or fixed my hair over and over—it still felt like it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to face my son, the boy I had not seen for years, looking so unprepared.

He shouldn’t have had to look for me at all. I had failed him too many times. And now, I didn’t even know how to face him without hurting him more.

I just hoped he wouldn’t recognize me. I hoped that after tonight, he could forget me altogether. That would be better than letting him feel the pain of having me as his mother.

"I’m going, sweethearts. Make sure to lock the door, and if anyone suspicious knocks, call me right away, okay?"

"Yes, Mommy!" the two of them answered in unison.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the trembling in my chest before I finally stepped out.

The night air felt heavier than usual as I made my way toward the hospital. Every step echoed with nerves I couldn’t quiet.

My palms were damp, my heartbeat uneven, and it felt as if the closer I got, the harder it became to breathe.

Cairo.

Even just thinking his name made my throat tighten. I hadn’t seen him since the day he was born, and now I was going to face him. I wasn’t sure what awaited me.

My mind kept racing with questions I couldn’t silence. Would he recognize me? Would he hate me? Or worse, would he look at me with the same emptiness I had feared all these years?

And then, Berninzo.

He had been the one to care for Cairo all these years, the one who had given me this chance—and yet, I couldn’t tell if I was ready to face him either.

Still, I moved forward. My feet carried me on their own, even as every part of me wanted to turn back.

Tonight, I would see my son.

Whether it shattered me or healed me, I couldn’t run anymore.

-----

At the hospital, my footsteps echoed against the tiles as I walked toward the reception desk, clutching the small piece of paper where I had written the room number Bern had given me.

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen, my fingers tightening around the note until it crumpled in my palm. I almost couldn’t bring myself to ask.

But before I could say a word, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"You came."

I turned, my breath catching. Bern stood a few steps away, his expression unreadable.

He looked the same, composed and steady but his eyes gave him away. There was something heavy in them, something that told me he had been waiting for me.

"Bern..." My voice came out as a whisper, thick with longing.

I didn’t even notice when he closed the distance between us. Suddenly, his arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me into an embrace that felt both overwhelming and achingly familiar. He held me as if he never wanted to let go.

"You... you finally came," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Cairo has been waiting for you. Let’s go."

Before I could respond, he gently tugged me along the hallway. I couldn’t resist—I simply let myself be carried by his strength. Bern had never changed.

At last, we stopped in front of a hospital room. Bern looked at the door, then back at me.

"You know, Cairo has been asking me all day if you were really coming," he said with a faint smile, though his eyes were tired. "He was even sulking because I couldn’t give him an answer. But now... now I can finally say yes. He’ll be so happy once he wakes up."

He reached for the door, ready to open it, but I quickly stopped him, my hand pressing against his arm.

"W-wait..." My voice cracked, my trembling hand shooting out instinctively.

Bern turned to me, his gaze softening as it landed on my shaking fingers.

He reached out and held my hand without hesitation. His palm was warm and steady against my cold skin, and for a moment, I just stared at him, as if I were drawing strength from his hold and presence.

"It’s okay, Sylvia," he said quietly. "I know what you’re feeling right now, but let’s take this slow. Cairo isn’t the kind of child who would hate you. You’ll love him the moment you see him."

Something in the way he said those words eased the trembling in my hands, if only slightly.

Bern gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before he slowly pushed the door open.

The first thing I saw was a small boy lying asleep on the hospital bed. The room was dim, the soft beeping of the monitors the only sound in the air.

My breath caught in my throat, and my feet felt glued to the floor.

I couldn’t move.

Even from where I stood, my chest tightened painfully, the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.

I hadn’t even taken a step toward him yet, but it felt as though the weight of everything—the years, the guilt, the absence from his life was pressing down on me all at once.

He was sleeping, peaceful and small. I should have felt brave enough to approach him, to at least take one step closer. But the more I looked, the heavier my heart became, until it was almost too much to bear.

I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his face fully. Even asleep, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him without feeling the crushing guilt of having abandoned him.

Why am I even here? If I can’t even bring myself to touch the child I left behind, then what kind of mother am I?

I’m a bad mother. I really am.

"Sylvia!"

I startled at Bern’s voice as his hands gently gripped my shoulders, shaking me just enough to pull me out of my thoughts.

"Look at me," he said, his tone firm but still kind. "Cairo is your son. Please... can you see him? Hold him, just once?"

His expression softened as soon as he saw how frozen I still was, my body trembling where I stood.

I hated myself for it—for being such a coward. For standing here, paralyzed, while my son lay only a few steps away.

But Bern’s eyes stayed on mine, patient and steady, as if he were quietly lending me his strength.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Almost without realizing it, I took a shaky step forward.

The sound of my heel against the tile echoed in the silence, making me flinch.

Bern moved with me, still holding my hand and guiding me.

"One step at a time..." he whispered, as if sensing how close I was to breaking.

Another step. And another.

I was standing right beside the bed now. My breath hitched as I finally allowed myself to look at the boy sleeping peacefully before me.

His face was delicate, framed by messy strands of dark hair, his lashes resting softly against his cheeks. Even in his sleep, I couldn’t deny the familiar features so similar to the twins.

So much of him reminded me of Paris and Egypt... and of someone I wanted to forget.

Even though he was my blood, he felt both familiar and painfully unfamiliar at the same time.

My vision blurred with tears I didn’t want to shed. My fingers twitched, aching to reach for him, but fear rooted me to the spot.

Bern’s voice came softly at my side. "Go on, Sylvia. Hold him. He’s your son."

With trembling hands, I finally reached out. The moment my skin brushed against his, it was as if fire seared through me—burning.

My breath caught, and the tears I had tried so hard to hold back spilled freely down my cheeks.

I clutched his small hand gently, almost afraid I might wake him, almost afraid this was a dream I wasn’t allowed to touch.

My knees weakened under the weight of it all—guilt, regret, love, and longing crashing into me at once.

"I’m sorry..."

The words slipped from my lips in a broken whisper. My chest heaved as I bent closer, brushing my forehead against the back of his tiny hand.

"I’m so, so sorry..."

Bern stood silently at my side, giving me space, as though he knew this moment belonged only to me and Cairo.

For the first time in years, I felt both whole and shattered all at once.