”
Ava turned to him. “And now? ”
“Now I fear only one thing. Losing someone I love all over again.
”
Dr. Patel returned. The compatibility tests were perfect. Baby’s chances for recovery were very high.
Ava cried. Ethan took her hand for the first time in eight months. “Our daughter is going to be fine. ”
He stayed the whole night.
When Eleanor returned the next morning, she held a photograph: Ethan standing next to Claire at a charity gala. “This is why she left,” Eleanor said. “You can’t entirely blame me. ”
Ava spoke before Ethan could.
“You don’t need to protect your son. I left because of him. He stayed silent when all I needed was one sentence. I’m here.
”
Eleanor’s gaze softened. “I may have been wrong. But now you must do what’s right. ”
“I am doing it,” Ethan said.
“Right here. ”
Eleanor looked at Ava. “The baby is well? ”
“She’s stronger than both of us.
”
Eleanor nodded, turned, and left. No trace of perfume, just the sound of her heels fading. Two days later, Iris cried for the first time. A beautiful, sharp sound.
Dr. Patel smiled. “She’s breathing on her own. ”
Ava broke into tears.
Ethan held her. Two weeks later, Iris was moved out of the NICU. On discharge day, the Boston sun shone brightly. Ethan carried Iris, who giggled and gripped his hair.
Ava leaned against his shoulder as they crossed the hospital doors into the light. A year later, they sat by the Charles River. Iris ran and laughed, chasing pigeons. “She really is our little rainbow,” Ava whispered.
Ethan nodded. “She taught me that life isn’t about closing a deal. It’s about making space for the things you can’t schedule. ”
He took her hand.
“You know, after all the contracts and trusts and deals, Iris is still the only document I’m truly afraid of breaching. ”
Ava laughed. “That is one contract I know you’ll keep forever. ”
The Boston rain fell again, every drop catching the faint reflection of a rainbow in the distance.
But this time, it didn’t feel sad. He knew the rainbow always returned. And Iris was his.