I bent my head toward her.
“You aren’t being abandoned,” I whispered. “Not while I’m here.”
At that moment, I meant every word.
Part 4 — Three Days Later
For the next three days, my life changed completely.
The doctors talked to us about Hope’s condition and what treatment could involve.
That was the name I began calling her.
Hope.
Because after everything that had happened, I needed her name to mean something.
Melissa was devastated and barely able to speak to Ryan.
Ryan had vanished emotionally after leaving the hospital.
Meanwhile, I went home with a recovering body, a newborn schedule, and more questions than answers.
Three days after the birth, Ryan finally showed up at my house.
Hope was asleep in a bassinet near the window.
Gabriel was down the hall in his room beneath his favorite dinosaur blanket.
I stood in the kitchen wearing sweatpants, my hair pulled into a messy knot, surviving on almost no sleep.
Ryan still looked as though he hadn’t recovered from the hospital.
I folded my arms.
“You don’t get to walk into my house as though nothing happened.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“Ivy, please. Just let me explain.”
I stared at him.
“Explain what? I’ve been feeding and comforting the daughter you spent six years praying for because you handed her to me and walked away.”
He flinched.
Part of me was glad.
I wanted him to understand the weight of what he had done.
Ryan rubbed both hands over his face.
“The doctors mentioned surgery,” he said. “Therapy. Specialists. Maybe braces. Years of appointments.”
“And?”
“I panicked.”
“She’s your child.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
My anger spilled out before I could stop it.
“You held her for seconds, Ryan. Seconds. Then you acted as though someone had handed you something you didn’t order.”
His eyes closed.
“I know how it looked.”
“How it looked?”
I stepped closer.
“The doctor called. Hope has a chance at a healthy, active life. She may need surgery and therapy, but she is still your daughter. Yet the moment you heard there might be complications, you walked away.”
“That wasn’t why.”
I stopped.
“Then tell me why.”
Ryan sat on one of the stools beside my counter.
His shoulders folded inward.
Suddenly he didn’t look like the brother who had always protected me.
He looked frightened.
Ashamed.
Almost small.
Then he whispered, “I lost my job.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him again.
“What?”
“Four months ago.”
I stared at him.
“Four months?”
He nodded.
