“If I tell her the truth, I destroy her. I become the man who walked out on his pregnant wife. Stress like that—this late in the pregnancy—it isn’t just cruel, it’s dangerous. Soon, it wouldn’t just be her—I’d also be leaving a newborn behind.” His breath shook. “But if I keep lying to her every day, I feel heartless. Like I’m living in her house while betraying her with every breath.” His voice dropped, flat with despair. “I don’t want to be either of those men.”
Jacob didn’t argue. He didn’t reach for easy comfort, only stayed quiet beside him.
Liam’s throat tightened as he forced another truth out. “Walking away from you feels impossible too. I’ve tried. God knows, I’ve tried.”
Jacob’s hand shifted in a slow stroke at his nape.
“I feel like no matter what I choose, it’s the wrong move.”
The silence that followed seemed to expand until Jacob’s answer cut through it. “That’s because it is. There might not be a right move, just the one you can live with.”
The breath Liam let out felt hollow, drained of everything he needed. He pressed harder into Jacob’s shoulder, defeated by the weight of it all. “I hate this,” he whispered.
“I know. Me too.”
Neither moved. Neither let go. The silence between them carried everything they could not yet bring themselves to say.
***
The movie was Emma’s idea—a film about childbirth and newborn care. The kind of thing couples were supposed to watch together. She sat curled on the couch beside him, eyesfixed on the screen, while voices from the TV filled the space with practiced reassurances about feeding schedules and sleep patterns.
Liam tried to follow along, but the narrator’s calm voice only made his mind wander. Sometimes he really hated his ADHD brain. His mind refused to stay still; it kept catching on Jacob’s broken voice from the day before, then spinning toward the baby, Emma, his family who’d be here soon for a two-day visit.
When the movie shifted to a segment on adjusting to life with a newborn, Emma exhaled loudly. “They make it sound so simple,” she said, half a laugh in her throat. “Eat, sleep, repeat. Like it’s a factory reset.”
He tried to smile. “Guess we’ll find out.”
She nudged his knee while looking at her phone. “Your mom texted. They’re an hour out. So brace yourself for the chaos.”
“Already bracing,” he said, though his voice came out flatter than he meant.
Emma turned back to the screen as a pair of new parents rocked a baby to sleep. The camera lingered on the quiet sway of it, the small weight held in someone’s arms. Liam watched it for a moment, knowing he should feel something like joy, but the feeling wouldn’t come.
A short while later, the buzzer rang, announcing the arrival of his parents and younger sister. They were in the middle of a big road trip up the coast, stopping in Los Angeles for two nights before continuing north to San Francisco. His older sister had wanted to come too, but life with two kids made spontaneous trips impossible, so it was just the three of them this time.
Liam was already on his feet before Emma could shift to stand. He pressed the intercom, grinning at the familiar noise on the other end. His mother’s voice overlapped with Maddie’s, while his dad could be heard in the background, asking which button to press.
He opened the door a minute later to the all-too-typical chaos of them. His mother led the way, hair windblown and arms out for a hug. His dad followed close behind, carrying a cooler in one hand, and Maddie brought up the rear, smiling as she took him in.
“Sweetheart!” his mother said, wrapping him up before he could answer. “You look wonderful. Too thin, but wonderful.”
“Hi, Mom.” He laughed into her shoulder. “You look exactly the same.”
“Flattery already,” she said. “He must want something.”
His dad handed over the cooler. “She brought half the store. Don’t ask me what’s in it.”
“Love,” his mother said. “And everything I need to make lasagna.”
Maddie leaned in for her hug. “Missed you, big brother.”
The apartment filled fast—shoes by the door, bags dropped, voices bouncing off the walls. His mother headed straight for the kitchen, already rearranging things like she owned the place. His father paused to take in the view, and Maddie was joking with Emma about baby names.
For a moment, Liam just stood back and watched them, the noise of it all washing through him. It felt good having them here again after months of only video calls.
A couple of hours later, the apartment smelled like garlic and baked tomatoes. His mother moved through the kitchen as if she’d been born there—sleeves rolled up, humming under her breath while the lasagna browned in the oven.
She was petite and bright-eyed, all effortless energy, her dark auburn hair now threaded with silver. She had the kind of presence that filled a room without trying. His dad was her opposite in almost every way—tall, broad-shouldered, calm by default. He sat at the table with a beer in one hand, pretending to read a travel brochure while really just watching her.
