''I must say that she's healing quite well,'' The doctor says, referring to the papers in his hands. Those papers are the reports according to Emma's recovering after her miscarriage and trauma—it was bad, before.

''Thank god,'' I mutter under my breath.

He looks up at me before smiling, ''This is an impressive recovery, Your Highness. Within the past couple of days, she has not been zoning out much and she has been talking, laughing, so far she's doing very well,'' He adds, making me nod my head at his statement.

It's true. Emma has been healing quite well, just like he said. She has been a little too chatty but I assume that's normal for her since she's trying hard to recover. It's a part of how she's trying to get through the pain and I understand that; I understand it, too well.

''Although, I really recommend her to rest more. Take her to places that can let her create new memories than just staying home. That can trigger back the pain,'' He continues, ''Since the incident happened there,''

The incident happened back home, it can definitely trigger back the pain. She might seem like she's going back to her normal self, recovering well and accepting but deep down, it will never be forgotten.

''I'll see what I can do. Thank you, doctor.'' I say before standing up, then, walking out of his office. Just as I walk back towards Emma's assigned room, I stop once I see her holding onto a familiar notebook as she stares onto the cover; her fingers feeling the material.

That exact notebook was the same notebook that we wrote names of our baby. Whether the baby was going to be a girl or a boy—we had different names, beautiful ones and even silly ones. I remember spending the night just thinking of names, together. We were excited.

If our baby was a girl, we would've named her Alice or Edith or Frances; named after my middle name, France. Those names were discussed with mother because we wanted the perfect name for our bundle of joy. Then again, if our baby was a boy, it would've been Ernest, funny, I know. Probably Thomas, Nicholas and even Eugene—the list goes on, actually.

I knock onto the door, making her turn towards me.

''Hey,'' I say, smiling at her in which she responds back with the same smile that I've fallen in love with every single day, every single time.

''Hi,'' She replies, putting the notebook down.

It doesn't take me awhile to respond because I know that she would understand it too. No matter how painful or how hard it could be; the baby was ours.

''We should keep that,'' I refer to the notebook, ''That's a part of her or his memory, we wouldn't want to waste it. In fact, I think I'm going to frame it,'' I joke at the end which causes her to laugh as she touches it.

''You think so?'' She asks, her voice almost inaudible. If I can just look deeply into her eyes, I would be able to see the amount of sadness but then again, she's good at not showing them to me. She's strong enough.

''I know so,'' I walk towards her before grabbing onto her hand and giving it a squeeze. Emma has to know that I'll be there for her through thick and thin. It does not matter if the pain is too unbearable, I'll be there.

''I think Edith and Ernest were alright,'' She breathes, making me smile; knowing that she's referring to the names we've picked from the internet. Then again, it's kind of odd if all of the names have to begin with the letter E but it would've been great.

''Yeah? Frances was good too,'' I wink at her.

''Just because your name is France,'' She replies.