“Yes,” Dana said sharply. “He has.”
Ryan turned on her. “I’m the father.”
Dana’s expression did not change.
“And this is a postpartum patient’s room. She decides who remains with her unless there is a medical or safety concern.”
“I am her husband.”
“Then act like one,” Eli said.
The room went quiet again.
Ryan stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Eli looked almost regretful.
Not afraid.
Regretful that the truth needed saying in front of me, while I was too tired to stand and too exposed to hide.
“I said, act like one.”
Ryan stepped toward him.
Dana pressed a button near the bed.
Not obvious.
Not dramatic.
But I saw it.
So did Ryan.
He stopped.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
I looked at Dana. “Can you please take my daughter for a moment?”
Her face softened immediately. “Of course.”
She lifted the baby carefully from my arms and placed her in the bassinet beside me. The loss of that tiny weight made my chest ache, but I needed both hands. I needed to sit up, even if my body screamed.
