The doctors explained that he had required respiratory support immediately after delivery and that he was being watched for complications, but his condition was improving.

He lay beneath a soft blanket, tiny fingers curled beside his face.

I touched his hand through the opening in the bassinet, and his fingers moved against mine.

“Hi, Oliver,” I whispered.

“I was looking for you.”

Warren remained several steps behind me, waiting until the nurse told him he could approach.

He had spent a lifetime giving orders in boardrooms, yet in that small room he asked permission before doing anything.

“Would you like to see him up close?” I asked.