Emily smiled, but a faint unease lingered. She looked down at the baby again, tracing her tiny nose, her delicate mouth. Nothing seemed out of place. But when she looked back up, James was still watching with that same hollow expression. Something in his face made her shiver. The first hours after birth passed in a blur of light and exhaustion.
Emily drifted in and out of sleep, her body aching, her heart full. Every sound, the rustle of the blanket, the quiet hum of machines. It all felt sacred. James was quiet, but she told herself it was just nerves. He hovered near the crib, watching the baby as though afraid to touch her. When Emily asked if he wanted to hold their daughter again, he hesitated, then said softly, “In a bit.”