Page 29 of The Space He Left
"Seven pounds, two ounces," announced the nurse. "Twenty inches long. Perfect Apgar scores."
"Perfect," I repeated, looking at my daughter with wonder.
Sam was taking photos, documenting Emma's first moments. "Should I try calling Jack again?" he asked quietly.
"No," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "He made his choice. When he's ready to meet his daughter, he can come find us."
I looked at Sam, who was now holding Emma with careful reverence.
"He missed it," I said. "He missed her birth."
"I know. I'm sorry, Harper. I'm so sorry."
"I kept thinking he'd make it in time. I kept believing he'd be here when it mattered most."
Sam's face was tight with controlled anger. "There's no excuse for missing this."
But as I looked at my daughter, perfect and peaceful in Sam's arms, I realized that Jack's absence was his loss, not mine. I had brought Emma into the world surrounded by love and support, even if it wasn't the support I'd expected.
"She's beautiful," I whispered, reaching for her. "She's here, and she's perfect."
Emma settled against my chest, her breathing steady and calm.
Jack had made his choice. He'd chosen Madison's needs over our daughter's birth, and he'd have to live with that decision for the rest of his life.
Chapter 10
Jack
Iwoke with a jolt in the stiff hotel armchair, the silence of the room broken only by the hum of the air conditioner and Madison’s soft breathing from the couch. It was 3 AM. The city outside was a web of distant, indifferent lights. I’d been dozing fitfully for hours, but now I was wide awake, a cold dread coiling in my gut.
My mother’s voice from our phone call earlier echoed in my head, sharp and unforgiving. “Your wife could go into labor at any moment, and you’re in the city playing nursemaid to your ex-girlfriend.”
Fuck.The word was a silent scream in my mind. This isn't right. What the hell am I doing here?
I looked over at Madison, asleep under the thin hotel blanket. She looked peaceful, a world away from the panicked woman who had summoned me here. In the quiet of the night, without the immediate pressure of her tears and fears, the situation suddenly came into sharp, brutal focus.
I was sitting in a hotel room with my ex-girlfriend while my pregnant wife was home alone.
Madison was my past. A past filled with drama and promises a teenager had no business making. But Harper… Harper was my present. My home. And our daughter was my entire future. A future I was actively jeopardizing with every minute I spent here.
My hands started to shake. I pulled out my phone, the sudden brightness of the screen making me squint. I ignored the missed notifications from Pete and opened the web browser, my thumbs moving with a new, desperate urgency.
Home health aide city.
Post-surgery care services.
Cancer patient in-home support.
I scrolled through agency websites, reading reviews, comparing rates. I found three highly-rated services that offered 24/7 care, companionship, and medical support. I saved their numbers to my phone. Madison wouldn’t be alone. She would have a professional, someone actually qualified to help her. But it wouldn’t be me. It couldn’t be me anymore. My time playing savior was over.
My place was with Harper and our baby.
When Madison stirred a few hours later at 6 AM, the morning light filtering into the room, I had my plan. My resolve was a hard knot in my stomach.
Her grip tightened as she prepared to leave for her surgery at lunchtime. "This is it," she whispered, her voice trembling with what I now recognized as practiced fear. "Jackie, I'm so scared. What if I don't wake up? What if this is goodbye?"
We were in her hotel room, her overnight bag packed beside the door. She'd insisted I shouldn't come to the actual surgery – too stressful, she'd said. Better for me to wait here.
