When the first sign for the hospital popped up on the road, my stomach twisted in a ball of nervous anxiety. I hadn’t received any other calls from the hospital since I’d left and I couldn’t bear to call them and receive the news that something horrible had happened while I was on my way.
Weary and exhausted, I pulled into the parking lot. As I shifted the car into Park, I wondered what was left of the life I used to live.
My son? Is he okay?
We’re not sure yet.
Simon had to be all right. Hehadto be. Because if he wasn’t, there was no way I’d ever be able to forgive myself for letting something happen to him.
It was all my fault. Every-fucking-thing was my fault.
Knowing that I couldn’t let my self-loathing get the best of me in the parking lot, I sucked it up and shut off the car. After unloading Sarge and snapping his Service Dog vest and leash into place, we walked into the hospital.
After a quick stop at the reception area, I found out where the ICU waiting room was. With each step, I knew I was stepping toward uncertainty.
I just hoped I’d be strong enough to accept the fate I was about to be dealt.
“I’m here for Delilah Hudson and my son,” I said to the nurse at the station in front of the ICU rooms. “I’m the husband, Micah,” I admitted, feeling ridiculously guilty for not being here sooner, for having to be here at all.
But most of all, guilt flowed through my veins for knowing that even though I may have been her husband by word, I was never her husband by heart.
Before the nurse could direct me to Delilah’s room, before she could tell me anything about Simon, I heard a voice I wished I’d never have to hear again in my life.
My mother-in-law stepped next to me, pulling my attention away from the nurse and whatever she was about to say. “What on earth are you doing here?” Digging her fire-engine red claw-like nails into my bicep, she pulled me away from the nurses’ station. “She told me what you did to her. And you have the audacity to show up here. Tell me you didn’t bringhim,did you?” Her eyes shot daggers at me, and it wasn’t until I looked down at her hand, still clawing at my arm, that she let go of me.
Mary Bennet had always hated me. From the minute I walked through her front door, she knew I was bad news for her precious Delilah. Though she hadn’t been wrong, I was determined to prove her as such. I had needed Delilah, or at least I thought I did. I needed her to be the life I was supposed to live all along. I needed her so I could forget all the pain, so that I could be someone else.
But Mary had always seen through that.
And if it hadn’t been for Simon, and for me enlisting in the army to give her daughter and unborn grandson a fighting chance at a decent life, Mary never would have given me a chance at all.
“She told you?” I asked lamely, hating how ashamed I felt.
“Of course she did!” Mary lowered her voice, but her anger was a palpable force raging between us. “You left your family behind for . . . for . . . what? For a man?” Her words were covered in disgust, but I wasn’t here to discuss Jude or my decisions.
“Mary, where’s Simon? Is he okay? What happened to him?” I begged, near tears. I needed to know my son was alive, that he was still with me, that I hadn’t seen him for the last time.
“Simon?” she puzzled, crinkling her brow in confusion. It was as if she’d never heard the name before.
“Daddy!” Before that moment, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard was his first cry, and before that, it was the steadythump thumpof his unborn heart. “You’re back,” he yelled, racing into my arms.
If Mary hated me, then Clark, her husband absolutely loathed me. And the look he shot me as I held my very alive and very healthy son in my arms told me that much had stayed the same.
Mary’s hard features softened slightly as she watched me hug Simon. As much as she thought her daughter deserved better, she rarely challenged how much I loved my son. Though I was sure my leaving put a nail in that coffin, I didn’t care. All I needed was to feel my son’s warm body in my arms, to hear his laughter, to feel his breath on my neck as he hugged the life out of me.
“You’re okay?” I asked, ruffling my hand through his hair. Weakened by the long drive, by the rise and fall of my emotions, by knowing Simon was alive, my legs buckled under our combined weight. Lowering us to the ground, I sat with Simon on my lap. Sarge quickly nudged his way into our tight embrace. And for the briefest of seconds, all was right in my world. Holding him at arm’s length, I scanned his face, took stock of his body. There wasn’t a bruise or scrape anywhere. “You’re not hurt?” I asked, loving the smile beaming back at me.
“No, why would I be. I wasn’t in the car. It was just Mommy.”
Even though they hated me, probably cursed my very existence, I looked up at Mary and Clark, begging for them to explain why the nurse told me she didn’t know about my son yet. They didn’t say anything, and for the first time in our long history together as people who couldn’t stand each other, they looked at me with a touch of compassion in their eyes.
Clark held out his hand. “How about we get your father some coffee?” Simon jumped from my lap, all too excited to help me in whatever way possible.
“Come sit,” Mary insisted when they were walking away.
“What the hell is going on? When the nurse called, I asked about Simon. She said they didn’t know anything about my son yet. What’s going on?” I asked, my legs bouncing, waiting impatiently for her to make sense of it all.
“Yes, Simon is fine. He was at our house, and Delilah was coming to pick him up. That’s when the accident happened,” she explained, but still the pieces weren’t falling into place. “Simon is fine, but your other son, he . . . he . . . he might not be,” she choked out, burying her face in her hands to hide her tears.
