The doctor told me, "Samson's doing alright now, but the fever lasted too long and may have affected his brain development. He'll need to stay in the hospital for observation. You can see him inside now but keep things quiet." I could not wait and ran into the room. I looked at my boy inside an incubator with tubes connected to his tiny body, my eyes filled with tears. Martin followed me inside and stared at Samson through the glass, then covered his face in anguish. "Get out," I said in a cold voice. "Celia, please give me a chance to make this up to you..." Martin said. But I simply raised my voice. "Get out! You don't deserve to be his father!" A nurse stepped in and asked Martin to leave. He looked at Samson one last time before walking out, crushed. - Three weeks later, Samson and I were finally discharged and we returned home. Martin did everything he could to prove he had changed. He dismissed all the nannies, learned how to care for a baby himself, and hired t
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