Whether I should have told him remained a different question.
As the sky outside the window began turning gray, Rachel checked my progress again.
Her expression changed.
It was time.
The room accelerated around me.
Nurses adjusted equipment and moved into position.
Dana took my hand.
Evan stood at the foot of the bed and told me what to do.
I looked at him once.
For that brief moment, neither of us appeared angry.
We were not husband and wife, and we were not safely separated ex-spouses.
We were simply two people standing at the edge of a permanent change.
Evan told me to push again.
Pain tore through me.
Then a newborn’s cry filled the room.
The sound was sharp, small, and alive.
Every insult Marlene had delivered seemed to lose its power at once.
Every negative pregnancy test, every lonely drive home, and every moment I had questioned whether my body was broken disappeared beneath that cry.
