“Bo’s going to be fine.” Aaron was certain of it. He had trust in the doctors performing the biopsy. “It shouldn’t be much longer now. The procedure isn’t enormously complicated.”
Seemingly placated by his words, Gage rested his head on Aaron’s shoulder again. Soon enough, they’d have their answers and their son would receive the treatment he sorely needed. Bit by bit, they’d discover their new normal. Aaron had faith in their future, and should that faith be betrayed, he had faith in himself—he hadn’t worked as hard as he had to settle for heartache. No matter what happened, he would make sure his family was cared for.
They sat in silence for a while. Aaron followed the progression of Gage’s exhaustion, noticing when his body loosened, then comforting him when he jumped back to wakefulness. Hospital staff passed them by, overworked nurses who never seemed to move at anything less than a jog, and surgeons scrubbed in and ready for their daily emergencies. Aaron watched them distantly, his eyes never settling on one place for long. There was no point in taking in much detail—his mind was in the operating room he and Gage sat outside of, and the son they’d left inside it.
At last, the door to Bo’s operating room opened. A surgical assistant peeled back her mask and nodded at Aaron, who nodded back. Gage sat up straight, silent, but alert. The surgical assistant crossed the hall and came to stand by them.
“The biopsy was a success,” she said. “Bo did a great job, and we expect that he’ll be back to his old self by the end of the week.”
“When is the lab getting the sample?” Aaron asked. He slipped a hand onto Gage’s thigh, offering him support. “Is there a rush on the analysis?”
“The order has been expedited, yes.” She smiled at them, more reassuring than friendly. “You might want to call to follow up, but I’m under the impression that the results should be with Dr. Chen around the same time Bo is feeling better—by the end of the week.”
“Thank you.” Aaron understood how stressful a laboratory environment could be, and he appreciated the time it took to analyze a sample, but as an individual whose life was impacted by the results, he couldn’t help but want them sooner than that. In the days following the revelation of his father’s medical history, Aaron had spent as much time as he could looking into idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, especially as it manifested in children, and while he knew the prognosis was good, he also understood that it was a condition Bo might have to manage for the rest of his life. Recent developments led him to believe that researchers were on the cusp of developing a better alternative to traditionally prescribed medication, but if Synecta was involved, the new core critical operations team Aaron had been hired on to wasn’t handling the project.
Still, he had hope.
There would be bright days ahead for Bo—moments of total joy and incredible happiness. He would grow and thrive and learn. The stumbling blocks of his youth would settle, and he’d use them to build a solid foundation for his future. He was strong, like his father.
Aaron stole a glance at Gage, whose expression was flat and serious even in the face of uncertainty.
Stronger than Aaron could ever be.
“We’re wheeling him into recovery now,” the surgical assistant said. “You’re welcome to go wait with him as he wakes up. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Of course.” Aaron stood, and Gage did the same. “Thank you for letting us know.”
“You’re welcome.” Her smile grew. The operating room door opened again, and several medical professionals exited, guiding along the operating room bed Bo had been laid on. He looked small beneath the blankets, but Aaron knew he wouldn’t stay that way for long. Soon enough, he’d be a young man, ready to tackle the world. Aaron would do whatever it took to make sure he had every chance at success.
He took Gage’s hand in his own, and together, they followed their son to recovery.
Epilogue
Gage
On a chilly December day, three months after Bo’s biopsy, Bo climbed up onto the couch and sprawled across Gage’s lap, grinning at him in the mischievous way that only young children could. Gage set his phone down and looked at Bo, wondering how he could grin so wide without hurting his cheeks.
“Hello, baby boy,” Gage said. He ruffled Bo’s hair, and Bo cried out in protest and flopped dramatically off Gage’s stomach to cuddle up against his side. “What are you doing that’s got you grinning from ear to ear?”
“Nothing,” Bo declared, then giggled maniacally and buried his face against Gage’s side.
“Nothing, huh?” Gage rolled over and swept Bo into his arms. Bo shrieked with delight and locked his arms around Gage’s neck as Gage rolled them. When he came to a stop, Bo was on top of him, positioned just above the barely there baby bump that Aaron had been worshiping earlier that morning before he’d left for work. “How come ‘nothing’ looks like so much fun?”
Bo giggled.
“Laughing’s not going to get you out of this one, mister.” Gage kissed the top of his son’s head. “What have you been doing? I thought that things were a little too quiet around here.”
“I made something for Uncle Alex,” Bo revealed.
“A wedding gift?”
“Mmhm.” Bo grinned wider.
“And where did you do that?” Gage lifted an eyebrow. Bo had been playing quietly on the living room floor, not even an arm’s length away from him. “Will you show me?”
“Mmhm.” Bo let go of Gage’s neck and rolled off the couch. His feet thudded on the floor, and he ran at full speed to the section of carpet he’d been playing on. “Look!”
Before Gage had even climbed to his feet, he saw the gift Bo had made. There, on the carpet, were bountiful swirls of purple glitter. Some of it was stacked in tiny hills, some of it had been fanned across the carpet, and some of it looked like it had been rubbed into the fibers, like Bo had wanted Gage to understand that he was completely and totally screwed.
