The scent of sterile herbs had finally faded, much to my relief. It was replaced by the faint, warm fragrance of fresh linen, rosewater, and the distinct, intoxicating scent of newborn life.
Diego sat on the edge of the bed, positioned carefully as if he were holding the fragile fabric of the universe in his hands.
In his left arm rested our son, his tiny fist tucked tight against his chin beneath a soft woolen blanket. In his right arm lay our daughter, her fiery auburn curls catching the morning rays.
Diego hadn't looked away from them for a single second. He was frozen in place.
"Diego," I spoke softly, reaching out from the pillows to rest my hand over his knee. "You're allowed to move, big guy. You won't break them."
He let out a laugh, wiping his cheek against his shoulder witho
