Page 233 of Say My Name

I don't make him try.

For several minutes, the world belongs only to us.

There are people waiting for news. Cliff and Rachel. Sophie and Theo. Maya, Evan, Olivia, and everyone else who has watched us make a complete disaster of finding our way here.

They can wait.

When the baby is back in my arms, Dominic sits beside me on the bed and takes out his phone. We choose a picture together. He sends it first to Cliff and Rachel, then to Maya, Evan, Olivia, and the rest of our family.

Replies begin arriving before he can put the phone down.

Dominic reads the first message from Cliff, and his eyes well up again.

“What did he say?”

“He said congratulations.” His voice roughens. “And that we should call when we're ready.”

I lean against Dominic's shoulder. “Not yet.”

“No.”

He turns the phone face down and wraps his arm around us.

Hours later, the room is quiet enough that I can hear Dominic breathing.

He sits in the chair beside my bed with our sleeping newborn against his chest. His shirt is wrinkled. His hair is out of place where he’s dragged his fingers through it, and the exhaustion around his eyes makes him look closer to his actual age.

Maybe older.

My voice is low. “You can put the baby in the bassinet.”

“I know.”

“You could also sleep.”

“So could you.”

“I would if you stopped staring at me every thirty seconds.”

“I'm checking on you.”

“You've asked five nurses whether I'm all right.”

“Six.”

“Of course you counted.”

“The next one will be here in seventeen minutes.”

I smile. “Are you managing?”

“Poorly.”

The honesty is so immediate, so unadorned, that it feels more intimate than any practiced reassurance would.

The honesty undoes me.

I reach toward the water on the table. Dominic passes it to me without standing or shifting the baby.