At the hospital, the staff was kind and efficient, whisking me away to a delivery room. Nurses reassured me, offering comforting words and support. In contrast to Nathan’s indifference, their empathy reminded me of the kindness that still existed in the world.

Hours later, exhausted but relieved, I held my newborn son, Ethan, in my arms. He was tiny and perfect, a soft bundle of warmth that made the world seem right again, even if for just a moment. As I looked at him, I felt an overwhelming sense of love and protection. This little one was my priority now, my reason to be strong and courageous.

Nathan eventually showed up at the hospital, feigning concern and offering a flimsy apology about the car seat. But the damage was done. His choice to leave me had opened my eyes to the reality of our relationship. This wasn’t just about a ruined trip or a wet seat; it was about a lack of respect and support that had been chipping away at us for months.