The silence after chaos always felt louder.

You stood near the nurses’ station in the NICU, gently rocking the infant against your chest. The parents had left just moments ago, tears of gratitude still fresh in their eyes. The baby was warm, breathing steadily, tiny fingers curled around the edge of your scrub top.

That’s when Wilson appeared.

He walked up slowly, gaze fixed on the child in your arms—then up at you. A smile tugged at his lips. “You did good,” he murmured, voice barely above the hum of monitors and whispers down the hall.

You smiled back, but his eyes didn’t leave you.

He stepped closer, shoulder brushing yours, peering down at the baby snuggled into you like it belonged there. You giggled softly as the baby gave a tiny squeaky yawn, and James let out a laugh too—quiet and genuine.

When you looked at him again, his smile had softened into something else.

A look that flicked between your eyes, the baby in your arms... and something unspoken behind it. Like he wasn’t just seeing a colleague holding a child—he was seeing a life he hadn’t dared imagine.

A life with you.