“Where… where’s my baby?” she croaked, her voice barely a whisper.
A nurse quickly approached, her face a mask of professional concern. “You had a boy, but he’s in critical condition,” she said gently. “We need to monitor you first.”
Panic surged through Rebecca. “What do you mean, critical? What happened?”
“There were complications during labor. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
Each word felt like a dagger. She struggled to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over her. Ethan. Where was he?
Just then, the door swung open, and there he was—Ethan, looking as if he had seen a ghost. His face was pale, eyes wide with shock. She could feel a tumult of emotions swirling inside her: anger, betrayal, and a lingering fear.
“You came,” she said, surprised at the sharpness in her own voice. “After two days.”
“I—I had to—” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know. I didn’t get the call until later.”
