Ric didn't say much as he gently led Cammy out of the hospital and into one of his upscale restaurants just a few blocks away. The space was quiet, sunlit, and nearly empty—he'd made sure of that. He never left her side, not even for a moment.
Cammy sat across from him at a window seat, her eyes distant, fixed on the world outside. She hadn't spoken since the hospital—not really. Her silence was loud, thick with sorrow.
She refused to look at the menu, so Ric ordered something light for her—a warm bowl of crab and corn soup and a fruit salad. When the food arrived, she didn't touch it. Her hands remained folded in her lap. She didn't move.
Minutes passed. The silence deepened.
Without a word, Ric stood up, walked to her side, and sat beside her in the booth. He picked up the spoon, dipped it into the steaming soup, and gently held it in front of her lips.
"Come on, Cammy," he said softly, his voice low, coaxing. "Just one bite. Going hungry isn't good for the baby."
