I had pictured an entirely different homecoming.

I thought Dominic would open the door for me, carefully help me adjust the seat, and offer a simple, decent sentence like, “You did incredibly well.”

Something minimal. Something human.

Instead, he turned his back and walked toward the curb.

“And what about the SUV?” I asked, the chilling breeze cutting straight to my bones.

Dominic gestured toward the parking garage with a sharp flick of his chin. “I need the vehicle. My parents and Natalie are flying in this afternoon. I already secured a premium reservation at Carbone.

I’m not canceling a critical family lunch just because you want to act fragile.”

I stared at him, completely stripped of my ability to draw breath.

Right then, the rest of the Vance family materialized from the lobby—my mother-in-law, Victoria, my father-in-law, Arthur, and Dominic’s sister, Natalie.

They arrived laughing loudly, impeccably dressed, heavily perfumed, as if simply embarking on a standard Sunday brunch. Natalie brushed right past me, caught a brief glimpse of the baby, and barely raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, brilliant, you’re finally out. Dominic, let’s move, or we’ll miss our seating block.”

Nobody asked about my health. Nobody asked if little Leo needed a single thing.

Dominic aggressively snatched the small diaper bag from the discharge nurse’s hands, tossed it carelessly into the rear seat of the SUV, and turned back to issue his final directive.