Chapter 13 - THE FIRST NIGHT HE STAYED AWAY
Nora spent eleven hours in the neonatal observation unit.
For Emma, the eleven hours became a lifetime measured in monitor lights.
Nathan stood beside her wheelchair while a pediatrician explained transient breathing difficulty in late-preterm infants.
"Her lungs are working," the doctor said. "She just needs help remembering that she is no longer allowed to borrow oxygen from Mom."
Emma nodded as if the sentence made sense.
Nothing made sense.
Nora looked too small beneath the clear plastic bassinet.
A sensor wrapped around one foot.
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
Nathan put one hand on the rail.
He did not touch Emma.
She noticed.
"You can hold my hand," she said.
Nathan looked at her.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm scared."
That was the whole answer.
He took her hand.
No speech.
No promise that Nora would be fine.
Emma appreciated that more than reassurance.
By evening, Nora's oxygen remained stable.
The nurse brought her back to Emma's room.
Emma cried so hard she could barely nurse her.
Nathan stayed until nine.
Then he stood.
"I'm going to the hotel."
Emma looked up.
"You don't have to."
Nathan's face changed.
"Do you want me to stay?"
The question forced Emma to examine what she had actually meant.
She was exhausted.
She was afraid of being alone.
She also did not want Nathan waking beside her as if the last months had vanished because they made a baby together.
"I want you close," she said. "Not here."
Nathan nodded.
"Okay."
"That doesn't hurt your feelings?"
"It does."
Emma stared.
Nathan gave a tired smile.
"You didn't ask if it hurt. You asked what I was going to do."
He kissed Nora's forehead.
Then stopped beside Emma's bed.
"Can I kiss you?"
Emma looked at him for a long moment.
"My forehead."
Nathan leaned down.
The kiss was brief.
He left.
At the hotel, he lay awake until two.
The old Nathan would have sent messages.
I miss you.
I love you.
Let me come back.
The new Nathan typed all three and deleted them.
At 2:14 he received a photograph.
Nora sleeping against Emma's chest.
No words.
Nathan saved it.
Then turned the phone facedown.
Emma and Nora were discharged two days later.
Nathan rented a small suite near the harbor for six weeks.
He did not ask to move into Emma's apartment.
He came when invited.
At first, that meant two hours in the morning and two in the evening.
He learned diaper sizes.
He learned Nora hated cold wipes.
He learned babies could spit up an impossible amount of milk and still look personally offended by the inconvenience.
He learned Emma cried at strange times.
Once because she could not get a bottle cap threaded correctly.
Once because Nora made a face that reminded her of the first baby she lost.
Once because Nathan washed three bottles without being asked.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
Emma wiped her face.
"I don't know."
Nathan opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
"Okay."
Emma laughed through the tears.
"You are getting annoyingly good at that word."
"My therapist is expensive."
"Good."
"There it is again."
A week after coming home, Emma found Nathan asleep in the armchair.
Nora lay on his chest.
The sight stopped Emma in the doorway.
His head was tilted back.
One hand rested over Nora's tiny body.
For one breathtaking second, Emma wanted to leave them exactly like that.
Then the safety instructions from the hospital returned.
No sleeping with baby on adult chest.
Emma touched Nathan's shoulder.
"Wake up."
His eyes opened immediately.
"What?"
"Put her in the bassinet."
Nathan looked down.
Embarrassment crossed his face.
"I fell asleep."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"Put her down."
He did.
No argument.
No explanation about exhaustion.
No wounded look because Emma corrected him.
Later, that mattered to her almost as much as the image of Nora asleep on his chest.
Two weeks later, Nathan had to return to New York for a board vote.
He stood in Emma's apartment doorway with his overnight bag.
"I'll be back Saturday if you want me."
Emma held Nora against her shoulder.
"I want you."
Nathan's expression changed.
Emma rolled her eyes.
"For the baby. Do not turn that sentence into a Broadway musical."
He smiled.
"Understood."
Then Emma added, "And maybe for dinner."
Nathan did not move.
"Okay."
Emma laughed.
"You can look happy."
"I'm terrified to overreact."
"That's fair."
He left.
Three hours later, Emma received a link from Rachel.
Do not read this if you're tired.
Emma was tired.
She read it anyway.
PRIVATE TEXTS REVEAL WHITMORE CEO'S EMOTIONAL AFFAIR.
Screenshots filled the page.
Nathan to Olivia:
Home feels suffocating tonight.
Olivia:
Then don't go home yet.
Nathan:
I can't do another conversation about trying again right now.
Olivia:
You don't have to explain yourself to me.
Emma's hands started shaking.
The messages were real.
She knew his writing.
Then she reached the final screenshot.
Olivia:
You deserve a life that doesn't feel like an obligation.
Nathan:
Sometimes I think you're right.
Emma stared at the sentence while Nora slept in her arms.
For the first time since Nathan arrived in Oregon, she wondered whether every change she had seen was only guilt wearing better clothes.
---
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