By the time they were discharged, Ethan felt like he'd aged 10 years. "You ready?" he asked as Lena buckled Elena into the car seat. "No," Lena said. "You?" "Not even a little." They drove to Lena's apartment in silence, Elena asleep in the back.
Ethan carried the car seat up while Lena grabbed the bags. The apartment looked different now, cleaner, more organized with a bassinet set up in the corner of the bedroom and a changing table near the bathroom. "My mother had people come in and set everything up," Lena said, setting the bags down. "She's been surprisingly helpful." "That's good." "It's weird." Ethan set the car seat down carefully.
Elena didn't stir. "You want me to stay tonight? I can sleep on the couch." Lena hesitated. "You don't have to." "I know, but I can.
If you want." She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay, yeah, that would be yeah." He texted Mia to let her know, then settled onto the couch with a blanket Lena had pulled out of the hall closet. The apartment was quiet, except for the faint sound of Elena breathing. At 2:00 in the morning, Elena started crying.
Ethan was up before Lena, stumbling into the bedroom. Lena was already sitting up, fumbling with the light. "I've got her, Rick," Ethan said. He picked Elena up, shushing her gently as he carried her to the living room.
She was hungry. He warmed a bottle the way Lena had shown him and fed her while Lena watched from the doorway, arms crossed, looking exhausted. "You're good at that," she said. "I've done it before." "With Mia?" "Yeah." Lena sat down beside him, watching Elena drink from the bottle.
"Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "Why'd her mom leave?" Ethan didn't answer right away. He'd been asked that question a hundred times, and he still didn't have a good answer. "She couldn't handle it," he said finally. "Being a mom.
Being with me." "She said it felt like drowning." "And you stayed." "I didn't have a choice." Lena looked at him. "You did." "You could have left, too." "No." Ethan said quietly. "I couldn't." Elena finished the bottle and closed her eyes, her tiny body going limp. Ethan burped her gently, then handed her to Lena.
"Your turn," he said. Lena took her, cradling her close. She looked down at Elena, her expression soft. "I'm terrified I'm going to be like her," Lena said.
"Your ex. I'm terrified I'm going to wake up one day and realize I can't do this." "You won't." "How do you know?" "Because you're still here." Lena didn't say anything. She just held Elena and let herself breathe. The first week was brutal.
Ethan split his time between Lena's apartment and his own place, trying to be there for both Elena and Mia. He barely slept. He forgot to eat half the time. And every time he closed his eyes, he saw the mountain of work piling up in his inbox and the meetings he was missing.
On day eight, Marcus called. "Dude, when are you coming back?" "I don't know. Soon." "Ethan, I need you here. Jenkins is freaking out about the Hartman project and I can't cover for you forever." "I know.
I'm sorry. I just "You've got a newborn. I get it. But you're going to have to figure something out." Ethan hung up and stared at the ceiling.
He was standing in his kitchen, a cold cup of coffee in his hand, trying to remember the last time he'd showered. Mia walked in, her backpack slung over one shoulder. "You look like a zombie," she said. "Thanks.
Are you going back to work?" "I have to." "What about Lena?" "What about her?" "Is she going back?" Ethan rubbed his face. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it." Mia grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. "You should probably talk about it." "Yeah, probably." That night, Ethan brought it up while Lena was feeding Elena.
"So, work." Lena looked up. "What about it?" "When are you planning to go back?" "I don't know. A few weeks, maybe." "My mother's been pushing me to take maternity leave, but But you don't want to." "No." Lena's jaw tightened. "I've worked too hard to let someone else run my company.
It's not someone else, it's your executives." "Same thing." Ethan sat down across from her. "Lena, you just had a baby. You need time." "I don't need time. I need to make sure my company doesn't fall apart.
It's not going to fall apart." "You don't know that." Ethan sighed. "Okay. So, what's the plan? You go back to work and Elena does what?" Lena looked defensive.
"I'll hire a nanny." "A nanny?" "Yes." "What's wrong with that?" "Nothing. I just thought it I don't know. I thought maybe we'd figure it out together." Lena's expression softened slightly. "We are figuring it out together.
But I can't just stop working, Ethan. That's not who I am." "I'm not asking you to stop. I'm just asking you to slow down." "And I'm telling you I can't." They stared at each other, the tension thick between them. Elena squirmed in Lena's arms, oblivious.
"Fine," Ethan said finally. "Hire a nanny, but I'm still going to be here." "I know." "Do you?" Lena didn't answer. Two weeks later, Lena went back to work. She hired a full-time nanny, a quiet, capable woman named Rosa who seemed unfazed by Elena's constant crying.
Ethan went back to work, too, though he cut his hours and worked from home as much as he could. The arrangement was functional, barely. Ethan saw Elena every other day, sometimes more if Lena needed help. They texted constantly, updates about feedings, diaper changes, sleep schedules.
It was clinical, efficient, and it felt wrong. One Friday night, Ethan was at Lena's apartment picking up Elena for the weekend when Lena stopped him at the door. "Can we talk?" "Sure." She closed the door behind him and crossed her arms. "This isn't working." Ethan's stomach dropped.
"What isn't?" "This. Us. The back and forth. It It's exhausting." "Lena I'm not saying I want you gone," she said quickly.
"I'm just saying we need a better system." "What kind of system?" "I don't know. A schedule, maybe? Something more concrete." Ethan set Elena's diaper bag down. "You want a custody schedule." "I want clarity." "She's 3 weeks old, Lena.