“I don’t want her; I didn’t want her. It was a stupid drunken mistake. I’ll be there for the baby, but she means nothing as far as she and I are concerned. It’s you. It will always be you.” His fingertip traces my eyebrow gently, then smooths back a strand of my hair that’s fallen forward. I see only the truth in his eyes, which pushes me to find the courage to go on.  

“How do you feel about the baby?” I ask. He frowns, wondering where I’m going with this, but ...