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Chapter 5 - The Operating Room and the Turning Point

The morning of the transplant dawned crisp and clear. The Chicago skyline stood sharp against a brilliant autumn sky as Ryan was prepped in the surgical gown next door to Leo’s operating suite.

As the orderliness of the medical staff swirled around him, Ryan felt an odd sense of peace. For the first time in his life, he wasn't thinking about stock portfolios, corporate takeovers, or social status. He was thinking about a little boy with gray-blue eyes and two little girls with stubborn smiles.

“Ready, Mr. Miller?” the surgeon asked.

“Let’s save my son,” Ryan said.

The procedure went off without a hitch. Hours later, Ryan woke up in a recovery room, groggy and sore, with an IV in his arm. Grace was sitting in the chair beside his bed, holding a warm cup of coffee, dark circles still under her eyes, but a faint, genuine smile playing on her lips.

“How is he?” Ryan croaked, his throat dry.

“The marrow was successfully introduced,” Grace said softly, leaning forward. “The doctors say his vitals are stabilizing. He’s resting.”

Ryan let out a long breath, closing his eyes as tears leaked down his temples. “Thank God.”

Grace reached out, her fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead—a tender gesture he hadn't felt from her since the early days of their courtship.

“The doctor said you were brave,” Grace murmured.

“I was terrified,” Ryan confessed, opening his eyes to look at her. “Not of the surgery. Terrified that I wouldn't wake up in time to watch them grow up. Terrified that I wouldn't get a chance to fix the wreckage I made.”

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Grace’s hand lingered on his arm. “Leo is going to be okay, Ryan. And... the girls are asking when they can see their daddy again.”

Ryan’s heart soared. He reached up and covered her hand with his. “Tell them their daddy is never going away again.”

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