My husband said he was flying to Denver for work, so I went to my prenatal appointment alone. While waiting outside maternity triage, I saw him rushing down the hall with one arm around a heavily pregnant woman

be hundreds of miles away.

My marriage changing beneath fluorescent lights.

Then I looked at her now.

“She can come in,” I said.

Maren blinked.

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

Adrian looked at me but said nothing.

Good.

He was finally learning that not every moment required his explanation.

Months later, we took a family photograph at Thanksgiving.

Nothing elaborate.

My father held Caleb.

Maren held Theo.

Adrian stood between us, looking slightly terrified someone might ask him to hold both babies.

When I saw the picture later, I noticed something strange.