Chapter 5
The next three days were a blur.
My parents drove twelve hours to be there.
They cried when they saw the baby.
Then they cried again when Margaret told them what Ryan had done.
My father wanted to kill him.
My mother wanted to hug me and never let go.
We left the hospital on Wednesday.
Ryan was there.
Standing by the exit with a stuffed bear.
“I just wanted to give him this,” he said. “And see you off.”
I didn’t argue.
Let him look at his son for two minutes.
Then we got in my parents’ car and drove away.
I didn’t look back.
We spent two weeks at my parents’ house.
It was quiet.
Peaceful.
The baby—we named him William, after my grandfather—thrived.
He was a good baby.
Rarely fussy.
Slept in four-hour stretches.
Like he knew his mama needed rest.
Ryan called every night at seven.
I never answered.
He texted.
Long, apologetic messages.
Promises to be better.
Questions about William.
I replied once a day.
One sentence.
He ate well.
He slept six hours last night.
He smiled for the first time today.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Vanessa texted once.
Just once.
We’re having her next month. Ryan told me everything. I’m sorry again. For all of it.
I didn’t reply.
What was there to say?
We were both victims of the same man.
But that didn’t make us friends.
After two weeks, my parents drove me back home.
The house felt different.
Empty.
All of Ryan’s things were gone.
Margaret had come while we were away.
Packed everything.
Left it in the garage for him to pick up.
The nursery was untouched.
William’s crib.
His changing table.
The tiny clothes I’d bought at the mall the day everything fell apart.
I put him down for a nap.
Then I sat on the couch and looked around.
Four years of memories.
Every corner held something.
A picture from our wedding.
The blanket we’d brought home from our honeymoon.
The dent in the wall where we’d tried to hang a shelf and failed.
I stood up.
Started taking the pictures down.
One by one.
I was halfway through the living room when the doorbell rang.
I checked the peephole.
Margaret.
I opened the door.
She was holding a casserole dish.
And an envelope.
“Brought you lasagna,” she said. “And… something else.”
She came in.
Set the lasagna on the counter.
Handed me the envelope.
It was thick.
Heavy.
“What is this?”
“Ryan had me give it to you. Said you wouldn’t take it from him.”
I opened it.
Cash.
A lot of cash.
And a handwritten note.
For William. For whatever you need. No strings. R.
I counted it.
Ten thousand dollars.
I put the money back in the envelope.
“I can’t take this.”
“Emily, yes you can. That boy is going to need things. Clothes. Diapers. A college fund. And Ryan owes you. He owes both of you. More than money can ever pay back.”
She paused.
“There’s something else. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Vanessa had the baby yesterday. A little girl. Lily Marie. Six pounds, two ounces. Healthy.”
My hand went to my chest.
Lily.
Ryan’s daughter.
William’s sister.
Born just three and a half weeks after him.
“Is Ryan… is he with her?”
Margaret sighed.
“He was there for the birth. Stayed a few hours. Then he left. He told me he’s not staying the night. Not moving in. Just… being a dad to her. Like he promised.”
She reached across the counter.
Took my hand.
“I know this is hard. Hearing about her. About Lily. But William is your whole world now. And he’s perfect. Don’t let Ryan’s mistakes steal your joy.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are.”
She looked at the pictures stacked by the wall.
“Good for you. Taking those down. Out with the old.”
“Something like that.”
She stood up to leave.
“Call me if you need anything. Day or night. I mean it. I’m not just Ryan’s mom. I’m William’s grandma. And I’m here for you. Always.”
She hugged me.
Left.
I stood in the kitchen.
Staring at the envelope of money.
Ten thousand dollars.
Ryan’s blood money.
But Margaret was right.
William needed things.
And I’d been a stay-at-home wife for four years.
No job.
No income.
No savings of my own.
I couldn’t be proud.
Not when my son needed diapers and formula and doctor’s visits.
I put the envelope in the junk drawer.
I’d use it for William.
Every last cent.
But I’d never forget where it came from.
That night, Ryan called at seven like clockwork.
I answered this time.
“Your mom gave me the money.”
Silence on the other end.
“Is it enough?”
“It’s ten thousand dollars. Of course it’s enough.”
“I can send more. If you need it.”
“I don’t want your money, Ryan. But I’ll use it for William. That’s what it’s for, right?”
“Yes. Anything he needs.”
Another pause.
“Vanessa had the baby. Yesterday.”
“I know. Your mom told me.”
“Lily. Her name is Lily.”
“I know that too.”
He took a breath.
“I want them to know each other. William and Lily. When they’re older. They’re siblings. They shouldn’t grow up strangers.”
I thought about it.
He was right.
As much as I hated it.
They were brother and sister.
Half-siblings, yes.
But still family.
“Not yet,” I said. “They’re babies. They won’t remember. When they’re five or six. Old enough to understand. Then we’ll figure it out.”
“Okay. That’s fair.”
Silence again.
“How is she?” I asked. “Vanessa.”
“Tired. Sore. Angry at me. Which she should be. She’s talking about moving back to Oregon. To be near her parents. Take Lily with her.”
My stomach dropped.
If Vanessa moved across the country…
Ryan would have to follow.
Or lose his daughter.
Which meant he’d be gone.
Out of William’s life.
At least physically.
Part of me was relieved.
No more monthly visits.
No more awkward handoffs.
But another part…
William deserved to know his father.
Even if he was a liar and a cheat.
“When would she go?” I asked.
“Not for a few months. She wants to wait until Lily is sleeping through the night. But she’s serious, Emily. She’s already looking at apartments.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
This changed everything.
“Then you need to decide, Ryan. What’s more important? Staying here and being in William’s life every day? Or moving to Oregon and being in Lily’s?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“I don’t want to choose. They’re both my kids.”
“Then you better figure it out. Because Vanessa is making the choice for you. And soon.”
I hung up.
My hands were shaking.
I walked to the nursery.
William was asleep.
His little chest rising and falling.
I sat in the rocking chair.
Watched him.
If Ryan moved to Oregon…
Would he still send money?
Would he still call?
Would William grow up knowing his dad only through FaceTime and two-week summer visits?
And what about Lily?
Would she grow up never knowing she had a brother just three weeks older?
I closed my eyes.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
My baby was supposed to grow up with a mom and dad under one roof.
With grandparents down the street.
With birthday parties and family vacations and all the normal things.
Instead, he had a father who’d created two families and now had to split himself between them.
And a sister he’d probably never really know.
I stood up.
Leaned over the crib.
May you like
Kissed William’s forehead.
“Whatever happens,” I whispered. “I’m here. Always. You and me against the world, kiddo.”
