Not because she was trying to reclaim an old romance.
There was no romance left to reclaim.
She was dying.
She needed someone she once trusted.
“How did you find him?” I asked.
The nurse explained that Anna had managed enough of his surname for hospital staff and social workers to search old records and belongings.
Buried inside older paperwork was an emergency contact containing James’s full name.
“They called me about an hour before I called you,” James said.
“You came immediately?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see her?”
He slowly shook his head.
“She was already gone.”
That sentence ended something inside the corridor.
Whatever fear I had carried about Anna disappeared.
A newborn whimpered softly behind the glass.
The three of us looked toward the room.
The nurse smiled sadly.
“She’s doing very well.”
I looked at James again.
And suddenly I understood the expression on his face.
He wasn’t afraid I would discover an affair.
He was afraid of what he was about to ask me.
Part 5 — The Question My Husband Could Barely Say
James waited until the nurse stepped away.
Then he said quietly,
“The baby has no one.”
I didn’t answer.
“Anna’s husband—the biological father—has already told social services he doesn’t intend to seek custody.”
My anger surfaced instantly.
“He can decide that in one morning?”
“He left months ago. I don’t know everything. The social worker said he’s been contacted.”
James glanced through the glass.
“They’re looking for relatives.”
“And?”
“So far, there aren’t any who can take her.”
My throat tightened.
“What happens to her?”
“Temporary foster placement. Then they keep searching while the court decides what comes next.”
He stopped.
I could see him trying to find courage.
Then my husband—the man who had once told me our three sons needed their mother more than we needed a daughter—looked directly into my eyes.
“I want us to ask to be considered.”
Even though I had already sensed what was coming, the words hit me hard.
