The Wrong Woman

Mila's phone rang until she finally mustered the courage to answer.

Nathan's voice greeted her on the other end. He hesitated before tentatively asking, "Wanda?" His tone carried an unusual softness.

Mila felt a pang of guilt. She wondered if she had ignored his calls so much that he thought someone else was answering. She replied with a gentle hum.

Nathan's voice brightened as he spoke warmly, "I'll come by tomorrow to go with you to the hospital to pick up our son."

Mila was surprised, knowing that his work wouldn't be finished until the day after tomorrow. She declined. "It's fine. You should continue with your work. Phoebe and I will pick him up. You don't need to hurry back."

"I'm not that busy." Nathan tried to take the opportunity. He asked again, "What time are you going to the hospital tomorrow?"

Mila refused once again. "Our son being discharged isn't a big deal. You don't need to worry about it."

Nathan fell silent.

Mila decided to end the call.

lowered the phone from her ear, she faintly caught

the call. Setting down her phone, she stared at the sprawling field of white zinnias before

day felt unusually long. Mila and the maternity nurse prepare the child's bedding and gather his daily

Mila politely declined. She wanted to spend time with her son to strengthen their

photos she had taken of her son previously, unable to

night, Mila gradually drifted off to sleep. While she was half-asleep, she sensed movement on the bed. Groggily, she opened her eyes and

spotted Nathan. Still half in dreamland, she mumbled,

slumber. He was surprised by Mila's unusually gentle tone when she spoke to

infused with drowsiness, stirred

bed, drew nearer to her, and whispered, "I'm sorry for waking

asked, "What time