My three-day-old son, Rowan, felt too hot in my arms.

His skin had a gray, dull cast under the kitchen lights.

He had not latched in six hours.

“Landon, please look at him,” I said.

My voice sounded thin and cracked.

Landon did not look up from his designer leather suitcase.

He was folding a silk resort shirt.

“We’ve talked about this, Marissa,” Landon said.

“It’s just new-mom panic.”

“His forehead is burning,” I said, stepping closer to him.

“He needs a pediatrician, not a flight to Nassau.”

Patricia, my mother-in-law, walked into the kitchen.

She smelled of expensive French lavender and hairspray.

She adjusted her oversized sunglasses on her nose.

“Landon, the car service is outside,” Patricia said.

She did not look at Rowan.

She looked at my stained nursing tank top with disgust.

“We need to leave for the airport now if we want to beat the Charlotte traffic.”

“Patricia, look at his breathing,” I pleaded.

“It’s shallow.”

“He’s fine, Marissa,” Patricia said, her voice sharp and cold.

“Babies breathe fast.”

“You are overreacting, just like you did during the delivery.”

I rubbed Rowan’s tiny back.

He let out a weak, high-pitched whimper that made my chest ache.

“I am not going on this trip,” I said.

“And Landon shouldn’t go either.”

“Our son is sick.”

Landon sighed and zipped his suitcase closed.

“The villa is booked, Marissa,” Landon said.

“My mother paid for the entire family package months ago.”

“We cannot refund it.”

“It is a four-day weekend,” Patricia added.

“You need rest, and Landon needs a break after the stress you put him through.”

“I put him through?” I asked.

“I just had major abdominal surgery.”

My C-section incision throbbed as I spoke.

Landon walked over to the kitchen counter.

My diaper bag sat near the microwave.

Beside it lay my car keys, my leather wallet, and my phone.

Landon reached out and picked up my phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He dropped my phone into his deep jacket pocket.

Then he took my car keys and my wallet.

“You need to unplug,” Landon said.

“No screens, no doom-scrolling baby forums.”

“Just sleep.”