The air felt different after Ann saw the nursery. It was quiet between her and Richard, but not cold. There was a new kind of silence soft, thoughtful, almost hopeful. Ann had seen the care in every part of the nursery. The gentle stars on the ceiling, the rocking chair in the corner, the books on the shelf, it wasn’t something done in a hurry or for show. It was clear he had put his heart into it. But her heart? It was still guarded.
Too much had happened. Too many words had been said. Too much pain had lived in the spaces between them. So when Richard asked, “Will you stay?” she didn’t answer right away. She looked down at their baby, peacefully asleep in the crib. His tiny chest rose and fell. His little hand rested near his cheek. Richard waited, not pushing. She finally turned toward
