Chapter 8 - The Epiphany
Saturday night was worse than Friday.
Without Claire stepping in, Nathan had to manage bath time, feeding routines, reflux management, and Sophie’s bedtime anxiety all by himself.
When Sophie started crying around 8:00 PM because she missed her mother and was worried that Mommy wasn't coming back, Nathan didn't tell her she was being dramatic. He didn't tell her to stop crying.
Instead, he sat down right on the carpet of her bedroom floor, pulled his seven-year-old daughter into his arms, and held her tightly.
"I'm sorry, Sophie," Nathan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy was wrong. I was selfish, and I didn't help Mommy the way I should have. But I promise you, Mommy loves us so much, and we are going to make things right."
Sophie wiped her tears on his sleeve and looked up at him. "Do you think she's coming back?"
"I pray to God she does," Nathan said honestly.
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Later that night, as he sat rocking Eli in the dark nursery—holding the baby upright at the precise twenty-minute angle Rachel had explained—Nathan finally understood. He thought about all the months he had gone to sleep undisturbed in the guest room while Rachel walked the hallways between two rooms in a sleep-deprived daze. He thought about the dismissive sighs he had weaponized against her.
The anger he had felt toward Rachel was completely gone, replaced by an overwhelming wave of gratitude for everything she had quietly carried, and a terrifying fear that he had permanently broken his marriage through his own arrogance.
