When she sat back, she saw his cheeks were wet too. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, unsure what to say or do next. He wiped his face and stood to his feet. ‘Give me ten minutes, Lainey.’ And walked off. Nick could have as long as he needed. She’d had years and didn’t expect him to process all this in the space of a few minutes. Lainey lay on her back, rested her arm on her forehead, closed her eyes, and remembered. The moment Liam arrived in a slither and rush … falling in love the moment she breathed in the warm smell of her newborn … the bittersweet discovery of his misshapen pinkie, just like Nick’s … She remembered the agony when the midwife wheeled her son out of her room, out of her life. And yet, the presence of the Lord had been with her in a special way at that moment. She would never forget that. It could have been ten minutes or it might have been sixty before she heard Nick’s footsteps.
