Not to see me. Not to see his daughter.

I asked the nurses to help me hire a caregiver, then called my parents overseas.

The day I was discharged, they rushed back, exhaustion etched into their faces. Mom pulled me into her arms, her eyes red-rimmed with worry.

Once everything was packed up, I walked out of the hospital room—and that's when Brendan's message came through. He'd been MIA for nearly two weeks.

"Getting discharged today? I'll pick you up. Got a surprise for you and the baby."

I ran my thumb over the USB drive in my pocket, then calmly let the screen go dark.

Perfect timing.

I had a "surprise" for him too.