Ryan lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“You watched me order a crib.”
“Yes.”
“You let me pay the deposit on newborn photography.”
“Yes.”
“You let me tell my supervisor I was taking eight weeks unpaid.”
“Yes.”
“You sat there while I made a household budget using your salary.”
“Yes.”
Marissa slapped the table.
“Stop saying yes like answering correctly makes you honest!”
Ryan flinched.
I said nothing.
She turned toward me.
“You knew?”
“Since this afternoon.”
Her eyes closed.
It hurt that she even needed to ask.
“I told him he had until tonight.”
She nodded once.
Then looked back at her husband.
“And this morning?”
Ryan’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Marissa’s voice became quiet.
“What happened when you saw her back?”
“I panicked.”
“Because you thought she might be seriously sick?”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
His eyes filled again.
“Mostly because I thought about the medical expenses.”
Marissa stared at him.
I watched the precise second she understood.
“You didn’t actually reject Amelia.”
Ryan shook his head.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You used her.”
Silence.
“You used our daughter’s condition to hide what you had done.”
Ryan whispered, “Yes.”
Marissa stood so fast her chair scraped backward.
“I would have sold everything.”
Ryan looked up.
“What?”
“The nursery furniture.”
“Marissa—”
“The stroller. The clothes. The stupid rocking chair you insisted had to last twenty years.”
Her voice cracked.
“I would have moved into my sister’s basement.”
Ryan covered his face.
“I would have gone back to work two weeks after delivery even if I had to crawl there.”
“You shouldn’t have to—”
“That is not the point!”
He fell silent.
“The point is that you took away my right to make decisions about my own life.”
Ryan stared at the floor.
“I would have been scared with you.”
Her voice softened.
“I would have been broke with you.”
He started crying.
“I would have sat at that kitchen table and gone through every bill.”
She pointed toward the NICU corridor.
“And I would have chosen our daughter every single time.”
Ryan nodded.
“I know.”
“No.”
Her eyes burned.
“You didn’t know.”
He looked at her.
“If you knew me, you would have told me.”
That was the sentence that finally broke him.
Not the debt.
Not the unemployment.
Not even Amelia’s diagnosis.
The realization that his wife no longer believed he knew her.
Ryan whispered, “Can you forgive me?”
Marissa looked almost offended.
“She has been alive for less than one day.”
He closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to request forgiveness while I’m still finding out what I’m supposed to forgive.”
Then she walked toward the door.
Ryan looked terrified.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my daughter.”
He started to follow.
Marissa stopped.
“You can come.”
He froze.
“But understand something.”
She looked him directly in the eyes.
“You are not coming because everything is okay.”
Ryan nodded.
“You are coming because she deserves a father who does not run when he is afraid.”
