Vincent
Dawn has asked for me. She wants me by her side, and that’s where I am. Right by her side, holding her hand tightly as she keeps asking where our baby is.
“Vincent, when will I get to see him?” She asks, pleading with her eyes. They search mine with so many emotions that break my heart.
“You will see him soon.”
“But where is he?”
“Dawn, can I just urgently see the doctors?” I ask instead, hoping she forgets about her question.
“Yes, you can. Will you bring my child to me when you come back? Please, I need to see him. I once heard his cries when I was sleeping, and I want to assure him that I am also here,” She says, and I sigh.
This is sad to hear. It's breaking my heart, and she doesn't know it.
This day seems to only get longer.
“You will see him soon,” I say in
