Wren

I look out the window of the car, gaze fixed on the tall hospital building surrounded by flowers, and so many colors.

“Hey.” Ezra touches my arm. “You good?”

My brows draw closer. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He scratches the back of his head, then runs the hand down his face and exhales. “I’m just…I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Meeting your mom?”

“Yes.”

I frown. “Why? I’m not uncomfortable, baby. You know that.”

With the way he’s ...