“Where is she,” he demanded breathlessly while scanning the room.
“Travis you cannot just barge in here,” I said sharply while struggling to sit upright against the pillows.
He ignored my words and walked straight toward the crib beside my bed while his expression slowly changed from panic to stunned disbelief. His hands trembled as he looked down at the tiny sleeping baby.
“She looks exactly like me,” he whispered.
The entire room fell silent as the nurses exchanged uneasy glances near the doorway. I felt anger rising inside my chest because his sudden appearance felt like an intrusion into a fragile moment.
“What are you doing here,” I asked coldly.
He turned toward me with confusion and desperation mixed across his face. “Why did you never tell me the baby was a girl,” he asked.
A bitter laugh escaped my throat because the question felt ridiculous after everything he had said months earlier. “Why would I tell you anything,” I answered firmly, “especially after you insisted the baby could not possibly be yours.”
“That is not what I meant,” he replied quickly while running a hand through his hair. “I thought you were no longer pregnant because my fiancée told me you had lost the baby.”
A sharp pain tightened inside my chest as the realization settled in. “Your fiancée lied to you,” I said quietly, “so congratulations on believing her.”
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