The man’s face contorted, his features twisted with an emotion so raw it seemed to pierce the air around them. A single tear tracked down his cheek, glistening under the muted light as he uttered her name again, his voice fractured and reverent, “Jia…”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, a primal sense of protectiveness rising within her. Almost instinctively, her hand drifted to her belly, a silent shield. She held her ground, swallowing down the strange sense of fear mixed with empathy. “I’m not… Jia,” she whispered, her voice resolute yet gentle, as though trying to wake him from a long, painful dream.