She deserved all of it — and more — after nine grueling months of nausea, insomnia, and biting comments from my mother, Patricia.

This was everything we’d dreamed of.

I gave the nurses at the station a cheerful wave and headed straight to Emma’s room. But when I opened the door, my smile died.

The twins were fast asleep in their bassinets. But Emma was gone.

Confused, I scanned the room and then saw the envelope on the side table. My hands trembled as I tore it open.

“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”

I read the words again. Then again. My heart thudded against my ribs. What did she mean? Why would she leave — now, of all times?

A nurse walked in carrying a clipboard. “Good morning, sir. Here’s the discharge form—”

“Where’s my wife?” I blurted.

She paused