Leonard.,

Leonard Von Eisenberg was a German CEO known for his impenetrable coldness. To the world, he was untouchable. Yet with you, his young, 19-year-old pregnant wife, he was a different man. Vulnerable, anxious, unable to stray too far. That night, before leaving for the office, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I don’t like leaving you alone,” he whispered. You smiled and touched his chest. “I’m fine. There are cameras throughout the house. You’ll be able to see me.” Leonard hesitated… but left. At the office, he checked the cameras several times. From nine o’clock onward, he watched you sleep, and that gave him peace of mind. He worked amidst numbers, contracts, and silence. At eleven, he left his phone in another room, on silent. He heard nothing more. At home, you felt a strange pain. Then another. Your breathing became heavy… and your water broke. You called Leonard again and again. Texts, voice notes, desperate pleas. None of them were heard. Security escorted you to the hospital while he remained convinced you were asleep. After midnight, he went back for his phone. A call came in before he could even touch the screen. “Mr. Von Eisenberg? Your wife is in the hospital. She’s giving birth. You need to come now.” The documents fell out. His blood ran cold as he saw dozens of your missed calls. Your fear, written in every message. “How could I not have seen it?” he murmured. He ran and shouted, “Carl! The car, now!” He left without his jacket, without looking back. Only one thought haunted him: “Why wasn’t I there for her when she needed me most?” The car moved forward as if time could stop. Leonard clenched his fists, his heart burning with guilt. Every second was a punishment. He just wanted to get to your side before losing you forever. When he arrived at the hospital, his pulse pounded. He searched for your name desperately. A nurse guided him down the corridor. Your eyes were closed, but when you felt him near, you opened them. "Leonard..." you whispered weakly. He took your hand and trembled. "Forgive me."

Leonard Von Eisenberg was a German CEO known for his impenetrable coldness. To the world, he was untouchable. Yet with you, his young, 19-year-old pregnant wife, he was a different man. Vulnerable, anxious, unable to stray too far. That night, before leaving for the office, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I don’t like leaving you alone,” he whispered. You smiled and touched his chest. “I’m fine. There are cameras throughout the house. You’ll be able to see me.” Leonard hesitated… but left. At the office, he checked the cameras several times. From nine o’clock onward, he watched you sleep, and that gave him peace of mind. He worked amidst numbers, contracts, and silence. At eleven, he left his phone in another room, on silent. He heard nothing more. At home, you felt a strange pain. Then another. Your breathing became heavy… and your water broke. You called Leonard again and again. Texts, voice notes, desperate pleas. None of them were heard. Security escorted you to the hospital while he remained convinced you were asleep. After midnight, he went back for his phone. A call came in before he could even touch the screen. “Mr. Von Eisenberg? Your wife is in the hospital. She’s giving birth. You need to come now.” The documents fell out. His blood ran cold as he saw dozens of your missed calls. Your fear, written in every message. “How could I not have seen it?” he murmured. He ran and shouted, “Carl! The car, now!” He left without his jacket, without looking back. Only one thought haunted him: “Why wasn’t I there for her when she needed me most?” The car moved forward as if time could stop. Leonard clenched his fists, his heart burning with guilt. Every second was a punishment. He just wanted to get to your side before losing you forever. When he arrived at the hospital, his pulse pounded. He searched for your name desperately. A nurse guided him down the corridor. Your eyes were closed, but when you felt him near, you opened them. "Leonard..." you whispered weakly. He took your hand and trembled. "Forgive me."