Adam swallowed hard. His eyes were burning. Whether because of Linus or because of Laurel, he didn’t know.
Didn’t much care right at that particular moment in time.
He dropped the envelope on the counter next to the doorway before slowly lifting the baby from the crib. Instead of fussing, though, Linus just kicked his feet, clearly excited to be escaping.
He was taller than Adam had expected. And far, far lighter. Which just served to remind him how delicate life could be. “Hey there, buddy.”
Linus eyed him curiously, then reached out to hook his fingers on the mask.
“Yeah,” Adam said huskily, “I don’t like it, either.” He held him closer. Linus smelled sweet. Like babies always did. “This is all pretty confusing, isn’t it? Even for us grownups.”
Linus wriggled. He grabbed unsuccessfully at the mask again, showing off a dimple as he grinned.
Adam caught the baby’s fist and kissed it through his mask. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Linus chortled and promptly sank his pink sharpish gums around Adam’s knuckle.
He pressed his lips to the little round head. “You’ve got your mama’s eyes.”
Outside the room, Eric stopped and stared incredulously at Laurel. “You remember me?”
She pulled off her mask, shaking her head as she studied his face, searching for some smidgeon of familiarity. But the only reason he didn’t look like a total stranger was because she’d watched the news video so many times now. “I’m sorry. I... I don’t.”
He looked pained. “Then why come after me?”
“Because I feel like I need to...to apologize. At least.”
His lips twisted. “For what? Breaking up with me? Having someone else’s baby even though you told me in a letter that I was going to be a father?”
She started. “What letter?”
“It was in your overnight bag. The one you left behind at your folks’ place last year. Maybe they felt sorry for me or something, but they sent it to me before Christmas.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “Maybe things weren’t perfect with us, but you could have told me the truth, Laurel, instead of running off and nearly getting yourself killed. I can’t even tell you what a roller coaster the past few months have been.”
She probed her mind, trying to remember ever writing a letter to Eric. But she couldn’t even remember him.
She spread her hands. “If things weren’t perfect, why did you want to marry me?”
“I’ve asked myself that a hundred times,” he said wearily. “I’m thirty-five years old. It was time to settle down. And we were good together. I had my business. You had the art museum. We had the same tastes. We enjoyed each other’s company. It made sense.” He shook his head. “I thought it made sense, anyway. If you’d told me the truth about the baby, we still could have made things work.”
“The letter.” The base of her head throbbed. “I actually wrote, ‘Dear Eric—’”
He made a sound. “‘My only love,’” he said gruffly. “‘I wish I were braver. I wish I deserved you. I don’t know how to tell you that we made a baby together—’” His lips twisted and he looked over her head toward Linus’s room. “Foolish of me to assume the letter was meant for me. I realize otherwise now. But you had at one time agreed to be my wife.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, feeling helpless.
“Story of my life,” he murmured.
“You deserve more,” she said suddenly. “Everyone should deserve more than a relationship that just makes sense.” She spread her hands. “I hope you find that, Eric. If for no other reason than that you were there for Linus when I wasn’t.”
He sighed heavily. “I was fine before you, you know. I’ll be fine after you. But Linus—” He shook his head. “That’s gonna take longer than I want to think about right now.”
“I know it’s not a perfect solution, but you don’t have to disappear from his life.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Laurel. Maybe one day. But for right now, I’m too old to pretend that I don’t know it’s long past the time to leave the party.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
She stood there in the hall even after he’d disappeared, trying to put a name to the feeling inside her.
Angelica walked past, carrying a plastic bucket filled with medical supplies. “Everything okay?”
“I have no idea,” Laurel admitted rawly.
Angelica smiled gently. “You don’t have to be afraid. Just go in there and hold your baby,” she advised. “Everything else will either fall into place or won’t. But you’ll have your baby in your arms.”
The nurse was right. Everything else would either fall into place or it wouldn’t. Laurel could either worry about the past or she could start making her future.
She donned the mask once more and rewashed and dried her hands, and this time when she walked into the hospital room, she held her shoulders straight.
Adam was sitting in the rocking chair she hadn’t even noticed the first time. Linus was on his lap, bouncing and wobbling and garbling sweet, sweet baby sounds.
She was tired of the tears that came so easily and too often, but she could no more stop them now than she could stop the earth from turning.
She held out her arms.
Adam stood and settled Linus into them.
“He’s so perfect.” She pressed her cheek to the baby’s, and let out a bubbling sob. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so...so...sorry. I promise I won’t ever leave you again.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” a man said from the doorway. “I’m sorry to interrupt your homecoming. Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” Adam said abruptly. “Laurel, this is Dr. Patel.”
She quickly swiped her cheeks as he entered, pulling his own mask into place. He was a head shorter than Laurel and slender as a reed, with a handshake that managed to be both comforting and authoritative. “Dr. Rama Patel,” he told her
