My husband appeared on the baby monitor every night at 2 a.m. carrying a mysterious paper bag—when I finally watched him open it, I gasped

I watched him lift Noah with the same gentle awkwardness he had shown since the first day. He always supported our son’s head as though his hands were not worthy of holding something so delicate.

Then he noticed me.

“You okay?”

I realized I had been staring.

“Fine,” I lied.

He frowned. “You sure?”

I almost confronted him then.

Instead, I asked, “Did you continue reading …