Julian stared at the picture as his expression slowly changed.
“His name is Mason,” Dr. Pierce said quietly. “He has your mother’s nose.”
Julian’s voice broke as he struggled to speak.
“I was never enough for any of you,” he said, his eyes filled with shame.
Dr. Pierce leaned forward slightly, his voice firm but calm.
“That is not your decision anymore, because being a father means choosing to stay, even when you feel unprepared.”
He slid a piece of paper across the table toward him.
“Your mother waited for you until her last day, so do not repeat that story with your own child.”
Two months later, on a quiet Sunday morning, Abigail sat by the window rocking Mason gently in her arms. A soft knock came at the door, breaking the calm rhythm of the moment.
She opened it slowly.
Julian stood there, thinner and exhausted, holding a small stuffed bear like it was the only thing keeping him together.
“I do not deserve to be here,” he said quietly.
Abigail met his eyes without looking away.
“No, you do not,” she replied honestly.
Silence filled the space between them until Mason made a soft sound from his crib. Julian’s face broke as emotion overwhelmed him completely.