my hand through fourteen agonizing hours of labor.
Rowan never came.
At 4:17 a.m., Leo entered the world.
Dad carefully held him against his chest, tears silently rolling down his face.
“He’s perfect,” he whispered.
Watching my father cradle my sleeping baby, I felt the last fragile piece of my marriage break.
Then my phone lit up.
Mom loved the watch I bought her. Coming home Monday. Don’t start another fight.
My hands stopped shaking.
I took a screenshot.
Rowan still believed I was the woman who would
