We stood there, an awkward silence stretching between us, as though the shelves themselves were holding their breath. I wanted to ask her so many things, but none of them seemed right, and the baby squirmed slightly in her arms, breaking the stillness.
“So, this is…” I trailed off again, gesturing vaguely towards the child.
“James,” she said, glancing down at the baby with a softness I hadn’t seen in her eyes for years.
“He’s beautiful,” I managed, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.
“Thanks,” she replied, almost too quickly, her attention shifting back to the shelves.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I finally asked, a quiet hurt threading through my voice.
She sighed, a sound so small yet so full of weight. “It’s complicated,” was all she said.
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