The Mistress Who Ran Away With The Twins

Chapter 192: Where Regret Found Us

The monitor beside Cairo’s bed let out a soft, steady rhythm.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Each sound felt fragile, like something barely holding together.

I didn’t realize how tightly I was holding his hand until my fingers began to ache. Still, I didn’t loosen my grip. I couldn’t.

Across from me, Rome hadn’t moved much. He sat leaning slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands loosely clasped together. But his eyes, they never left Cairo.

Not even for a second.

It was as if he believed that the moment he looked away, even for just a heartbeat, something terrible would happen.

The room was quiet.

I swallowed, my throat still dry despite everything that had happened.

"You should rest.." I said softly, not looking at him.

The words felt unfamiliar coming from me.

Rome let out a quiet breath, something close to a humorless laugh.

"I don’t think I can."

There was no hesitation in his answer.

I glanced at him.

His eyes looked tired. Not just tonight, but like he had been carrying that exhaustion for a long time. I only noticed it now. I wasn’t used to seeing him like this.

He had always looked cold. Untouchable. Ruthless.

But now...

He looked human and weighed down by regret.

I quickly looked away.

"You’ve been up since last night," I said. "You won’t be able to think clearly if you exhaust yourself."

He shook his head slightly.

"I’ve spent years not thinking clearly," he replied. "I don’t think sleep is going to fix that now."

There was no bitterness in his tone and somehow, that made it worse.

Silence settled between us again.

I turned my attention back to Cairo.

His face looked peaceful now like none of this had happened. Like he hadn’t collapsed in my arms just hours ago.

My chest tightened painfully.

"He doesn’t want me to worry about him... he’s a good child..." I murmured, almost to myself.

Rome looked at me.

"What do you mean?"

I hesitated.

But something about tonight, about everything unraveling made it harder to keep things buried.

"Cairo doesn’t like worrying people," I said quietly. "Even when he’s the one hurting."

My fingers brushed lightly over his knuckles.

"He hides it. Pretends he’s okay."

I swallowed.

"He’s still a child... but he already understands too much."

My voice faltered.

"He forgave me so easily... even after everything I’ve done to him."

My grip on his hand tightened.

"I wasn’t a good mother to him. I left him when he was just a baby. He was so fragile... and I wasn’t strong enough to hold him."

My chest felt tight.

"Unlike the girls, I didn’t raise him. I wasn’t there while he was growing up. He should be angry at me... but he’s not. He still longs for me."

I let out a quiet, broken breath.

"I don’t think I’m any better than you. I’m not a good mother to him. I’m only just starting to be there for him now... and I can’t even be honest with him."

Rome’s gaze lingered on me, as if he was trying to read every emotion I was struggling to hide.

Then his eyes softened slightly as he looked back at Cairo.

"It’s not your fault," he said quietly. "You were in a situation where you had to make impossible choices. You did what you thought was best for him."

I shook my head faintly, but he continued.

"And if you’re going to blame yourself... then what about me?"

His voice dropped.

"If I hadn’t been the kind of man I was back then, you wouldn’t have felt the need to run away. We could have been a family. Cairo wouldn’t have grown up without both of his parents."

His jaw tightened.

"So no... it’s not just your fault. It should have been mine."

Silence followed but this time, it wasn’t empty.

Something shifted inside me.

Maybe it was exhaustion or maybe I was just too tired to keep everything locked inside anymore.

"I know we both failed him," I said slowly. "But you never experienced it the way I did."

I looked at him and for a moment, I held his gaze.

It was intense.

I looked away, hugging myself unconsciously.

"You know... when I was pregnant, I didn’t even know I was carrying triplets."

My voice was quieter now. More distant.

"When I ran away from you, I had nothing. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know how I was going to survive."

I swallowed.

"I was broken. Completely broken. But somehow... I couldn’t hate my babies. They were the only reason I kept going."

A faint, bitter smile touched my lips.

"I swallowed my pride and accepted help from the very family I resented... just so I could carry them safely."

I looked down at Cairo.

"I stayed with my brother until I gave birth."

A heavy ache settled in my chest.

"I never told you anything about my family back then," I continued. "But I didn’t grow up in a loving home."

My voice softened.

"I promised myself that if I ever had children... I would never let them feel the same loneliness I did."

My fingers trembled slightly against Cairo’s hand.

"But I failed."

I looked at Rome briefly before looking away again.

"I became like my father... someone who couldn’t love their own child the way they should."

Rome didn’t interrupt.

He just listened.

"When I gave birth... I almost lost myself when I saw Paris and Egypt," I admitted. "They looked like you. I knew it immediately."

My chest tightened at the memory.

"I hated it. I hated how much they reminded me of you."

I let out a shaky breath.

"But I couldn’t hate them... because they were mine."

My voice dropped to a whisper.

"But when I saw Cairo..."

I paused.

"He looked exactly like you."

Rome looked away this time.

"I couldn’t even bring myself to hold him," I admitted. "Not like I did with his sisters."

My throat tightened painfully.

"All the resentment I had... I poured it onto him."

Tears blurred my vision.

"I asked myself—why did he have to look like you?"

I shook my head slowly.

"But everything changed when Bern told me about his condition."

My voice broke slightly.

"He was fragile. He needed more care... more love."

I closed my eyes briefly.

"And I knew I wasn’t capable of giving that to him at that time."

My fingers curled slightly around Cairo’s.

"I was afraid... afraid that if I held him, I would lose control again and hate him for something he had no fault in."

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"So I made a choice."

I forced the words out.

"I left him with Bern. Because Bern could take care of him and cure his condition... in ways I couldn’t."

My voice trembled.

"I abandoned my own son because I was too weak to love him properly."

Heavy silence filled the room.

"I wasn’t there for his birthdays... for his childhood... for anything," I whispered. "I gave all my love to his sisters—but I couldn’t even face him."

My chest felt like it was collapsing.

"I’m a failure as a mother."

Rome frowned slightly.

"How is that only your fault?" he asked quietly.

I let out a shaky breath.

"Because I’m still failing him," I said. "I lied to him. Over and over again. About you. About everything."

I shook my head.

"I did this to him."

"No," Rome said firmly. "Don’t blame yourself like that."

"Don’t try to comfort me.." I replied weakly.

"I’m not." he said.

But his voice softened anyway.

And I felt it.

"If you think you failed him," he continued, "then I failed him too. And not just him, I failed you. I failed Paris and Egypt."

His voice grew quieter.

"I should have been there. I should have been your strength back then... and I wasn’t. I was a coward..."

The weight of his words settled between us.

And for once, I didn’t argue. Because I couldn’t.

We both knew the truth.

We both failed.

Silence returned again.

But this time, it felt... shared.

Not suffocating. Just heavy.

Then, a soft knock.....

We both looked up at the same time.

A nurse peeked in.

"Ma’am? Sir?"

I straightened slightly. "Yes?"

"Visiting hours are limited, but given the situation, only one guardian can stay overnight." she said apologetically.

My heart sank.

I didn’t want to leave.

"I’ll stay.." Rome said immediately.

I blinked.

"No. I’ll stay," I said quickly. "I’m his mother."

Rome met my gaze.

"And I’m his father."

The words hung in the air.

His father...Cairo’s father. Still new and still unfamiliar.

"I’m not leaving him." he added.

Neither was I.

The nurse hesitated, then sighed softly.

"We’ll allow both of you for now. But please keep things quiet."

Relief washed over me.

"Thank you."

She nodded and quietly left.

Silence returned.

But something had changed.

"...Do the girls know that I’m their father?" Rome asked after a while.

I froze.

"Egypt doesn’t," I said softly. "But... Paris knows."

He nodded.

"That sounds like her."

"She’s too observant and smart." I muttered.

A faint smile crossed his lips, then disappeared.

"We should tell them properly." he said.

I looked at him.

"Not tonight," he added. "But soon. They deserve the truth."

I hesitated.

"...I’m scared..." I admitted.

"Of them?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Of what comes after."

I looked at Cairo.

"Everything will change."

Rome followed my gaze.

"...It already has."

He was right.

There was no going back.

Only forward.

Cairo stirred slightly.

We both tensed.

"...Mom..." he murmured.

"Sssh I’m here.." I whispered immediately.

His fingers tightened around mine.

"...Don’t go..."

My chest ached.

"I won’t.." I promised softly.

Across from me, Rome shifted.

Then slowly and carefully, he placed his hand over Cairo’s other hand.

Cairo didn’t wake.

But his breathing eased.

And for the first time, it didn’t feel like he was holding on alone.

The three of us stayed like that.

Quiet.

Connected.

And somewhere in that silence, something fragile began to form.

Not forgiveness.

Not yet.

But something... close.