Damon looked at her, his hand still holding hers, thumb brushing over her knuckles.
Svetlana's eyes were open now, really open. Glassy from everything she'd been through, but clear enough.
She stared at him like she was seeing him in a different light. Maybe she was.
Just as the moment settled, the door cracked open.
The nurse popped her head in.
"Oh! Sorry," she said quickly, realizing what she was walking in on.
She gave a sheepish look, then quietly closed the door again.
It broke the rhythm for half a second.
But then Svetlana chuckled, that familiar, quiet laugh of hers that always brought Damon back down to earth.
"Guess even perfect moments can't be perfect," she said.
Damon smirked, shaking his head, but he didn't move from where he was, still kneeling beside her bed.
"I don't care," he said.
Svetlana's eyes softened, filling with something deeper.
"You know," she said, her voice low, "I used to think I was hard to break."
He said nothing. Just listened.
"But then you showed up. You ruined all of that."
She squeezed his hand a little tighter.
"You made me believe in things I thought were done. You made me trust again. You made me love you. I didn't have a choice."
Her smile grew, a little shaky but still sure.
"So, yes. Yes, Damon Cross. I'll marry you."
The weight in his chest lifted all at once.
He let out a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
And for a moment, he just stared at her, taking it in.
Then he slid the ring gently onto her finger, his hands steady as he did.
Damon stood and leaned in, kissing her forehead first, then her lips, soft, careful, but with all the meaning in the world.
When he pulled back, her hand was still in his, and her eyes were still on him.
And in that moment, everything made sense.
Svetlana looked at Damon, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
She reached up slowly and wiped it away with her thumb, her touch gentle.
"I love you," she whispered.
Damon's eyes met hers, and he smiled, small, but real. The kind of smile that didn't need words.
He gave her hand another squeeze, holding it like it was the only thing that mattered in the world right now.
A soft knock came at the door.
Svetlana chuckled quietly, not breaking eye contact.
"You can come in," she said.
The door opened, and the same nurse from earlier stepped inside. She paused for a second, her gaze drifting to Svetlana's hand.
The ring glinted under the soft room light.
The nurse's expression warmed into a wide smile.
It was genuine, that kind of look people have when they witness something pure.
"Congratulations," she said, her tone light but full of warmth. "It's always nice to see something good happen in here."
She took a step closer, still professional but more relaxed now.
"I'm just here to check her vitals. Routine. We want to make sure you're both alright before we start planning to discharge her."
She gave Damon a knowing glance. "Though I think she's in good hands."
Svetlana smiled, glancing at Damon, still holding his hand tightly.
Damon didn't say anything.
But he didn't need to.
Damon smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead one more time before standing up from the chair.
"I'll be right back," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he let go. "I need to call your parents. They've been worried sick."
Svetlana's expression softened, but then she frowned slightly, her fingers brushing over the edge of the blanket.
"Can you… not tell them?" she asked carefully, glancing up at him. "About… you know."
Her hand shifted instinctively to her stomach for a brief moment. "I want it to be a surprise. When the time's right."
Damon paused, studying her face. She looked serious but hopeful. He knew how much her parents meant to her, especially Victor.
But he understood this was her decision.
She wanted to tell them in her own way.
And he respected that.
He nodded once, steady and sure. "Alright. I won't say a word." Relief softened her face as she smiled at him.
Damon gave her a wink as he moved toward the door. "I'll just tell them you're okay and we'll be heading home soon."
She gave him a tired but grateful nod.
"That's good enough."
He slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.
The weight on his chest had eased, if only a little.
He scrolled through his contacts as he walked toward a quieter spot in the hallway, ready to make the call.
Damon found a quiet corner in the hallway and made the call. Victor picked up almost immediately, Macey's voice faint in the background, asking questions the second she realized it was Damon.
It took him a while to convince them both that Svetlana was fine. He stayed patient, steady in his tone, repeating himself when needed. She was resting, she was stable.
He explained it away as exhaustion, maybe a little dehydration. Nothing serious. He stuck to the points that kept them calm without diving too deep.
After a few minutes, Victor finally eased up. Damon could hear it in his voice.
The decision to cancel his flight came soon after. They were coming home soon anyway, and Damon made it clear they'd be back as planned.
He carefully avoided any unnecessary details. If he wasn't careful, it would be too easy to slip and reveal the real reason she fainted.
But he did tell them one thing.
He mentioned the proposal.
He said it had happened that night, kept it simple.
And when they heard, there was a shift. Both of them sounded lighter, genuinely happy.
They congratulated him, told him how proud they were. Macey's voice was warm, and Victor's approval came through clearly, even if he didn't say much.
It was the kind of reaction Damon figured they'd have, and it helped settle something in his chest.
When the call ended, Damon stood there for a few seconds longer, letting it all sink in, before turning back toward Svetlana's room.