Chapter 36 036
EMILY
Ryan hesitated in the doorway, his hand still resting on the handle like he wasn’t entirely sure he should follow me.
For a second, I thought he might refuse—that he’d stay inside with Zara, hiding behind the excuse of being a father instead of facing me. Then he sighed. It was deep and tired, the kind of sigh that came from carrying too much for too long, and he stepped into the hallway.
He closed the hospital room door softly behind him, careful and deliberate. The click of the latch sounded louder than it should have, final in a way that made my chest tighten.
The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.
The fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead, and somewhere down the corridor a monitor beeped in a steady, rhythmic pattern.
Nurses murmured at the station, their voices blending into background noise that made this moment feel strangely isolated, like we were standing in our own little pocket of the world.
We walked a few steps away from Zara’s room. Not far—neither of us wanted to be—but far enough that our voices wouldn’t carry back to her bed.
I stopped first.
When I turned to face him, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, like I was trying to keep all my emotions from spilling out at once. “Now, why is your mother here?” I asked, my voice low but sharp. “We did not have a prior conversation about this.”
Ryan dragged a hand down his face, rubbing the back of his neck afterward. He looked exhausted—bone-deep tired, like he’d run out of whatever fuel had been keeping him upright. “You have issues with my mother coming to see her granddaughter?”
I inhaled, the breath scraping my lungs on the way in. “No,” I said quickly. “But you should have warned me before. You know she does not like me.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his mouth twisting into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I wonder why.”
I scoffed, the sound bitter and sharp. “Excuse me?”
He ran both hands over his forehead, fingers digging into his hair as frustration leaked into every line of his body. “You’re excused, Em.”
“Ohhh… now we want to play this game.” My voice cracked on the last word, emotion breaking through despite my effort to keep it together. “It’s not fair.”
Ryan exhaled again, but this time it was softer, like he was already regretting his tone. “Sorry about that.”
The apology only made it worse.
Tears burned hot behind my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. I wiped them away quickly with the sleeve of my hoodie, angry at myself for crying yet again. “I’m just overwhelmed,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m so sick and tired of all of this. Why did my life have to turn upside down after you came back in?”
Ryan stilled.
He looked at me then—really looked. Not the guarded, cautious way he’d been looking at me for weeks, but openly, like he was finally letting himself see everything I was carrying. Something shifted in his expression, his jaw tightening slightly.
“To be honest,” he said quietly, “my life turned upside down too.”
That did it.
The tears came harder, quieter, but unstoppable. I covered my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but my shoulders shook anyway. “Are we shitty parents?” I asked between breaths, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered.
For a second, I thought he might argue. Deflect. Shut down.
Instead, he laughed.
It was soft and surprised, almost tender, like the question had caught him off guard. “No,” he said gently. “We’re just first-time parents.”
Then he stepped closer.
He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate. One moment there was space between us, and the next his arms were around me, solid and warm. One hand cradled the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair. The other settled low on my back, grounding me.
I buried my face into his chest and cried into his shirt, soaking the fabric without caring.
His body felt familiar in a way that made my heart ache—like muscle memory kicking in after years of denial. He rubbed slow circles between my shoulder blades, murmuring things I couldn’t quite hear over my sobs.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
I clung to him like a lifeline, fingers gripping the back of his shirt. I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to remember why I should.
“We’ll be fine, Em,” he said softly. “We’ll be fine.”
I nodded against his chest, even though I wasn’t sure I believed him. For a moment, I let myself pretend. Pretend that the past hadn’t shattered us. Pretend that this—us standing in a hospital hallway, holding each other while our daughter slept—was normal. Safe.
Then a voice cut through the moment.
Sharp. Cold.
“What the hell is going on here?”
My body went rigid.
I lifted my head slowly, still pressed against Ryan’s chest, dread pooling in my stomach before I even turned.
Cecilia stood a few feet away.
Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, posture stiff and disapproving. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowed as they flicked between Ryan and me.
Behind her, Ryan’s father hovered awkwardly, his hands clasped in front of him, looking like he desperately wished he were anywhere else.
Ryan broke away from me slowly, his hands lingering on my arms for just a second longer before dropping to his sides.
“Mother,” he said quietly.
Cecilia scoffed. Her gaze snapped to me, sharp and cutting, filled with something dangerously close to disgust. Then she looked back at Ryan, chin lifting like she was preparing for battle.
“We want to help our son get full custody of his daughter.”
The words didn’t register at first.
“What?” Ryan and I said at the same time.
The single syllable hung in the air, heavy and unreal.
Cecilia didn’t flinch. She didn’t soften. She lifted her chin higher, her voice calm and terrifyingly composed. “You heard me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it felt like it might crack them. The hallway seemed to tilt, the lights were too bright, and the air was too thin.
I stared at her.
Then at Ryan.
His face had gone pale, shock and fury colliding in his eyes. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening.
Everything inside me went cold.