“She was already gone.”
That sentence flattened everything inside me.
The baby made a tiny sound in the room behind us.
All three of us turned.
The nurse’s expression softened.
“She’s doing well.”
I looked at James.
He was terrified.
Not of the hospital.
Of me.
That was when I finally understood that whatever he was about to ask had nothing to do with Anna wanting him back.
Anna was dead.
This was about the baby.
James took one breath.
Then another.
“She has no one.”
I didn’t move.
“Her father’s not coming. Social services reached him. He signed something saying he isn’t seeking custody.”
My mouth went dry.
“Already?”
“He left months ago. Apparently, he doesn’t want involvement.”
Anger flashed through me so quickly it almost felt clean.
James continued.
“The hospital social worker explained what happens next.”
“What happens?”
“Temporary placement while they search for relatives and determine guardianship.”
He looked through the glass.
“They don’t think there are any relatives.”
I knew what was coming.
Still, when he finally said it, the words felt enormous.
“I want us to ask to be considered.”
I stared at him.
“For what?”
He looked directly at me.
“For her.”
My eyes filled immediately.
“James.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
“I know how this sounds.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I probably do.”
He reached toward me, then stopped himself.
“I already told the social worker I’m married. That I would never make any decision without you. That this isn’t something I get to promise on my own.”
I looked through the glass.
The bassinet had been moved closer.
Tiny face.
Dark hair.
Eyes closed.
“I want to apply for her,” James said. “Whatever that process means. Foster placement, guardianship, adoption later if that’s possible. I want to bring her home.”
His voice became quieter.
“If this is too much, tell me, and I’ll never mention it again.”
I laughed once through my tears.
Not because it was funny.
Because I finally understood what he had been afraid of.
“You think I’m jealous?”
He said nothing.
“You thought I’d hear Anna’s name and think this was about her?”
“I didn’t know what you’d think.”
I wiped my face.
“I thought she might be your baby.”
His eyes widened.
“Okay. That’s worse.”
Despite everything, I laughed again.
Then I cried harder.
James reached for me.
This time, I let him.
I kept thinking about Anna.
Not the woman James had almost married.
Not the ghost of a relationship that existed before mine.
A woman lying alone in a hospital bed.
