Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3 — The Word Us
Hannah survived the emergency.
So did the twins.
Barely.
Two tiny babies were taken to the neonatal unit beneath warm lights and careful hands. Ethan stood outside the glass for almost twenty minutes, unable to move.
A boy.
A girl.
Both fragile.
Both breathing.
Both with his dark hair.
The nurse placed a hand on his arm.
“Doctor?”
He turned.
“Hannah is asking for you.”
He walked back to her room like a man walking toward judgment.
Hannah lay against the pillows, weaker now but awake. Her eyes found him immediately.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Ethan said, “The babies… they’re safe.”
Her eyes closed.
A tear slid down her cheek.
“Good.”
He stepped closer.
“Hannah, when you said us…”
She opened her eyes again.
“You really don’t know?”
His chest tightened.
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
Her laugh was small and broken.
“That’s because you never asked.”
He deserved that.
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
She turned her face toward the window.
“I was pregnant when I came to your house that night.”
Ethan could not breathe.
“I tried to tell you,” she said. “You wouldn’t let me.”
He gripped the back of the chair.
“My parents said you took money and left.”
“They offered me money,” Hannah said. “After your mother had security remove me from the property.”
His hands curled into fists.
She continued.
“Then your father’s attorney told me if I tried to contact you, they would ruin me. They said they would claim I was unstable, greedy, and trying to trap you with a pregnancy.”
Ethan sat down slowly.
Hannah looked at him.
“I called you from clinics. Shelters. Borrowed phones. Your number was changed. Your office said you refused my calls. Letters came back unopened.”
“I never saw them.”
“I know that now,” she whispered. “But I didn’t know it then.”
Silence settled between them.
Then she lifted her wrist slightly.
The silver bracelet caught the hospital light.
“I kept it because I needed to believe one part of you had been real.”
Ethan lowered his head.
“I was real,” he said. “I was just weak.”
Hannah’s eyes filled again.
“That weakness cost me five years.”
May you like
He did not defend himself.
There was no defense big enough for that.
