Chapter 3

I happened to be practicing yoga when Joshua came upstairs.

He frowned when he saw that I'd set our son aside.

Reflexively, he scolded, "Why do you only think about yourself? Our son is still little. This is exactly when he needs someone."

I didn't even lift my eyelids. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

Seeing him step forward, the postpartum nurse quickly cut in. "Mr. Gilbert, I've got the little one covered."

"During confinement, a new mother's physical and mental health matter just as much."

"And normally it's Mr. Gilbert... that is, your older brother, who takes care of the baby. Your wife at most just plays with him a little; mostly she focuses on her own postpartum recovery."

When she finished, Joshua's face went from pale to red and back again.

See? Even he knew it. He hadn't lived up to his responsibilities as a father.

But when he opened his mouth, it was still to accuse me, trying to pin some fault on me that way, so he could ease his own unease.

He stood there stunned for a moment, then stiffly picked up his son.

A few minutes later, Joshua ran out of patience.

Seeing how relaxed and carefree I looked, he was about to speak when Rod brought out the postpartum recovery meal he had made himself.

He said gently, "Now that Joshua's back, I won't be coming anymore."

"I've written down all the recipes. Joshua just has to follow them."

Seeing him about to leave, I finally opened my eyes.

Unhurried, I said, "You should stay after all, Rod."

"Once Ivy recovers, Joshua will be off chasing the aurora again. Where would he find the time to look after me and the baby?"

Joshua's eyes darted away.

He pressed his lips together, then forced the words out. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Suit yourself."

In the past, I would have cried and made a scene without end.

But after everything that had happened, I suddenly realized I wasn't a child anymore.

Four years together, from eighteen to twenty-two, all of it the fierce love that belongs only to the young.

But I was already twenty-eight. I couldn't act like a little girl and agonize over whether he loved me. What I cared about, more than anything, was myself.

With that, I didn't look at him again.

Maybe my attitude left him uneasy, because he started learning how to be a proper father.

But he was just too clumsy. He couldn't do anything right.

The moment our son saw him, he cried and fussed even harder, as if Joshua were some kind of savage beast.

For several days straight, he kept at his learning, and no matter how much Ivy played the victim, he didn't go see her even once.

I'd thought his fatal calamity might be averted this way.

Until early the next morning, when our son suddenly spiked a fever that wouldn't break.

As I threw on my clothes and rushed out, I ran straight into the sight of him and Ivy leaving with their luggage.