Chapter 12
"If you remove this member, they won't be able to access Max's photo album anymore. Are you sure you want to proceed?"
David's thumb hovered over the confirm button.
Elaine saw the message, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Just delete me," she said quietly.
"It's not like those photos were ever mine," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.
David didn't press the button.
He locked his phone and looked at me. "We'll sort it out when we get home."
"Why can't you just do it now?" I pressed.
"It's crowded here," he said.
"Why do you need a special place to delete someone who doesn't even matter?" I shot back.
"She's been watching Max for three months and saved a bunch of his photos. If you suddenly take them all away, it'll really upset her," David said.
I held Max close, and I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
"That's my son's photo album," I said.
"I know," David replied.
"So just because she's upset, she gets to keep access to my son's privacy?" I shot back.
"It's just a few photos," David said.
I reached out. "Give me your phone."
David took a step back.
"Don't make a scene," he said.
People in the hallway were already staring.
Elaine covered her mouth, tears streaming down. "David, just delete me. Please, don't let me be the reason you and Sophia fight."
David quickly tried to reassure her. "Hey, it's not your fault. No one's fighting because of you."
As soon as he said that, I went completely silent.
Since Max's baptism, every time I tried to draw a line, he said I was just making trouble. But whenever Elaine cried, it was always about her feelings getting hurt.
I turned and walked out, not looking back.
David took a couple steps after me. "Where are you going?"
"Taking Max home," I said.
"Let me drive you," he called after me.
"No need," I said without turning around.
He grabbed my wrist. "Sophia, can you stop walking away every time something happens?"
I glanced down at his hand gripping my wrist.
Max had just gotten his shot, buried his face in my chest, sobbing and trembling. David didn't even look at him or ask if he was okay. All he cared about was making sure Elaine kept those photos.
"Let go," I said.
David looked like he wanted to say something else, but a nurse rolled a treatment cart past us and reminded us not to block the hallway.
He had no choice but to let go.
I called a cab and headed home.
The first thing I did when I got home was unplug the nursery camera.
The blue light at the bottom of the camera was still on. I used to think it meant we were safe, but now all I could feel was that little eye, always open, letting her peek into me and Max's most exhausted, unguarded moments.
I tucked the camera away in a drawer and pulled out Max's birth certificate, vaccine booklet, and insurance documents.
The original birth certificate wasn't in the folder.
I searched everywhere, study, bedroom, every corner, but it was nowhere to be found.
When David got home that night, Elaine wasn't with him.
He headed straight for the nursery, and when he saw the camera was gone, his expression soured.
"You took down the camera?" he asked.
"Where's Max's birth certificate?" I asked.
He paused for a moment.
"It's with the insurance advisor at the company," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"We needed to verify the documents for Max's insurance," he replied.
"Which company?" I asked.
David slowed down as he took off his jacket.
"Elaine's old insurance company. She knows all the procedures, so she helped me with the paperwork," he said.
I looked at him.
"She has the original?" I asked.
"Yeah, she's holding onto it for now," he replied.
"You gave our son's birth certificate to your ex-wife?" I asked.
"It's only for a few days," David replied, as if it was no big deal.
"Call her and tell her to bring it back right now," I demanded.
"It's already late," David said.
I reached for my phone. "I'll call her myself."
David grabbed my hand.
"Sophia, you're upset with her right now. If you two meet, it'll just make things messier," David said.
"Then you go get it yourself," I shot back.
"Tomorrow," he replied.
"Now," I insisted.
His expression went completely cold.
David said, "You already put her on the spot at the hospital today. She's really upset after going home. I don't want to make things worse for her."
I slowly pulled my hand away.
"Just because I want my son's birth certificate back, I'm the one upsetting her?" I shot back.
"She didn't mean any harm," David said.
"That's my son's birth certificate," I said.
"He's my son, too," David replied.
After he said that, the living room fell into a long, heavy silence.
Max was asleep in the nursery, his soft breathing barely audible. On the dining table sat the insulated bag Elaine had left behind yesterday, with a can of untouched soup inside.
I walked over and opened it.
Under the soup can was some insurance paperwork.
The insured was Max Harper.
The policyholder was David Harper.
In the section for secondary guardian, Elaine Summers was listed.
I pulled out the insurance plan, and when I read the beneficiary notes, my breath caught for a moment.
If both parents are unable to fulfill their guardianship duties, the recommended guardian is Elaine Summers.
It was David's handwriting.