When I Returned from the Hospital with Our Newborn, My Husband Had Changed the Locks – Twenty Hours Later, He Showed Up, Pounding and Screaming

The air inside smelled like fresh paint and something floral—lavender, maybe. The lighting in the entryway was softer. Warmer. A plush rug I’d never seen stretched across the floor. The walls that used to be a tired beige were now a clean cream, brightened but not sterile.

“Ray, what—”

“Keep going,” he whispered.

I walked down the hallway as if I’d stepped into a version of my life someone had rebuilt overnight. There was a handrail by the tub in the bathroom, and a cushioned mat on the floor, like someone had thought about my sore body and how unsteady I’d felt lately. In our bedroom, blackout curtains had been installed, and beside the bed sat a bassinet ready to hold our daughter close.

Then I reached the nursery.

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