Skip to content The Man Holding My Son
Three days later, Daniel finally came home.
I was sitting in the living room with Noah asleep against my chest.
My father was standing near the window, speaking quietly with the pediatrician on the phone.
The front door opened.
Daniel walked in carrying his suitcase.
“Claire?”
I didn’t answer.
He stepped farther into the room.
Then he saw my father.
His expression changed instantly.
The color drained from his face.
“Mr. Hale?”
Dad turned around.
“Daniel.”
Daniel stared at him.
Then at me.
Then at the baby.
“What is he doing here?”
I looked at him calmly.
“He came when you didn’t.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I didn’t know…”
“You knew I was in labor.”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dad walked toward him.
“You left my daughter alone while she was giving birth.”
Daniel looked terrified.
“I didn’t know she was going to…”
Dad interrupted him…