"If you haven't settled on one yet, you can always do it at the municipal center after discharge."
Derek nodded with a smile, then listened as the nurse went through a list of care instructions for me.
Through the thin curtain, I watched him tap away at his phone, recording every single word.
Attentive. Patient. In just one day and one night, he'd become the model husband in everyone's eyes.
Everyone's but mine.
My heart was cold. Stone cold.
"Hey, you're awake!" He brightened when he noticed me stirring. "We'll stay here for observation the next couple of days, then move to the recovery center the day after tomorrow."
Derek wiped down the bedside tray with a sanitizing wipe, then set the prepared postpartum meal in front of me.
"Oh—the nurse came by asking about the baby's name. Are we going with what we agreed on before? Leigh Shaw?"
I adjusted myself against the pillows, sat up a little straighter, and took a slow sip of soup.
"No. Not that."
"I want the baby to take my last name. Leigh Henson."
The bowl slipped from Derek's hands.
It hit the floor with a sharp clang, splattering broth and bits of food across the tiles. His voice caught in his throat. "Why?"
"Because of that thing in the car that looked exactly like a condom wrapper?"
"I already explained that. It was from Adela's takeout. If you don't believe me, I'll call her right now and she can tell you herself."
He said it without flinching. Not a trace of guilt. If anything, there was irritation in his tone—annoyance that I was making something out of nothing.
When I said nothing, Derek picked up his phone, ready to dial.
The very next second, a ringtone sounded just outside the door.
Adela Matthews walked in carrying a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag.
"Mr. Shaw. Viola."
The moment she stepped inside, her eyebrows lifted in surprise at the mess on the floor.
"What happened here?"
"Mr. Shaw, are you hurt?"
Without missing a beat, she set everything down and moved to Derek's side, turning his hands over, scanning him for injuries.
The motion was smooth, practiced—intimate in a way that seemed almost unconscious.
I watched her hands on him, my gaze frozen over.
Derek shifted back half a step, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He pulled Adela forward by the arm.
"Adela, perfect timing. Yesterday—you were eating takeout in my car, right? And you left that glove wrapper behind."