The storm outside hadn’t stopped when the baby came. Wind rattled the hospital windows, rain sliding in crooked lines down the glass. Emily barely noticed. All she heard was her daughter’s cry; thin, perfect, alive. When the nurse placed the baby in her arms, everything else disappeared. James stood beside her, unmoving. His eyes weren’t on Emily.
They were fixed on the child. The nurse said something cheerful, but the words didn’t land. He leaned closer, then froze. His face drained of color, his breath caught halfway between disbelief and horror. Emily looked up, confused. “James?” she whispered. But he didn’t answer. He just stared. The room, moments ago filled with light and relief, suddenly felt colder.
The nurse adjusted the blanket, humming softly as she handed the baby back. Emily smiled through her exhaustion, unaware that behind James’s silence, something had already begun to shift, a quiet fracture forming in the life they had waited so long to build.