Three years earlier, after their third loss, everything had fallen apart. He had watched Rachel break down completely, sobbing on the bathroom floor until she had nothing left inside her.
That was when he made a decision. Quietly. Completely alone. Without telling anyone.
He went to a clinic in Downtown and had a vasectomy.
At the time, he convinced himself it was love. That he was protecting her. That he couldn’t bear to see her suffer again.
But now, standing in that hospital room, Rachel held a baby that — by all logic — could not be his.
The doctor came in, congratulated them warmly, then left after a quick check. Rachel smiled at Ethan, the same smile that had once made him fall in love with her.
“Look… he has your eyes,” she said gently, brushing the baby’s cheek.
Ethan’s throat tightened. “Yeah… he’s beautiful,” he replied, his voice barely steady.
