I stroke his hair, the soft strands sliding between my fingers. "He's doing better now, sweetheart. He's just very sick and needs that kidney sooner than we realized. Thanks to you, he's going to get it soon."
Sanders nods against my shoulder, silent. He hasn’t said much since seeing Luke. Luke woke long enough to talk to him, though, and that felt like a blessing.
Woody comes through the double doors in front us. My chest tightens. I’d know that walk anywhere, even if I couldn’t see his face. It’s carved into me.
I hug Sanders closer, grounding myself in him.
“Hey, guys.” Woody stops in front of us. “Luke’s resting now. He’s in good hands. Told me to tell you, ‘Be the Rizzler.’ Whatever that means.”
That gets a smile out of Sanders.
Woody sits close beside us, one hand resting on Sanders's back. His presence feels different now. Not the ex-husband who disappointed me, not the lover from last night, but something else. He's a father protecting his son, a doctor willing a child to heal.
His hand shifts, and suddenly our fingers brush where they meet on Sanders's shoulder. I can't tell if it's deliberate, and it doesn't seem to matter.
For a long moment, I don't move. His palm stays over mine, steady and grounding. The weight of it is so familiar yet foreign now that it sends warmth spreading up my arm.
Around us, life continues. Nurses murmur at their station, shoes squeak on polished tile, avending machine hums in the corner. But in our small bubble, everything is still.
To anyone looking, we're just a family: worried parents, their child tucked safely between them. The thought catches in my chest like a burr.
My gaze drifts to the hallway beyond the glass doors where Luke rests. Stable, but not safe. That single truth hangs heavy in my chest, because none of us are.
TWENTY-TWO
Woody
The fluorescent lights of Mae's Place cast everything in a too-bright glow that makes the dark outside seem even blacker.
Christmas garlands droop between ceiling tiles, and tiny lights twinkle around the windows. The place smells like grease and cinnamon. It's comfort food when comfort is exactly what we need.
I wrap my hands around my coffee mug, letting the heat seep into my palms. Across from me, Lane tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly. The small gesture yanks at something in my chest.
"And then the nurse, her name's Kelly, gave Luke three pudding cups! Three!" Sanders gestures wildly, nearly knocking over his chocolate milk. "She said heroes get extra dessert."
"That was nice of her," Lane smiles, but it doesn't touch her eyes. The shadow beneath them has deepened since morning, worry etching itself deeper with each passing hour.
"Luke said that since the GoFundMe just hit a hundredthousand dollars," Sanders continues between bites of his grilled cheese. "His mom is going to buy him, like, a million pudding cups with that."
I chuckle, grateful for my son's ability to find joy even now. "I don't think hospitals sell pudding cups in bulk, Squirt."
"Well, they should." Sanders shrugs with the absolute certainty only a nine-year-old can muster.
Lane nods along to Sanders' stream of consciousness, but I see the small crease between her eyebrows, the one that appears when she's holding back emotions. My fingers itch to reach across the table, to smooth that line away like I used to.
Instead, I grip my mug tighter, letting the burn remind me of boundaries.
After waking up beside her yesterday, before the world imploded, everything seemed possible. Now, with Luke's condition hanging over us and the weight of our history pressing down, the Formica table between us might as well be miles wide.
"Dad? Are you even listening?" Sanders waves a French fry in my face.
"Sorry, buddy. Just thinking about Luke."
"He's gonna be okay, right?" His voice drops, suddenly small. "He seems just like normal, now, even though he's stuck in that hospital."
"It looks like it, bud. He still has a long road ahead of him," I answer, hating the medical caution in my voice. Be a father, not a surgeon.
Lane reaches for Sanders' hand, her wedding ring-less finger catching the light. "Your dad made sure Luke got the very best care today. He's working really closely with Ms. Carly and his doctors to make sure everyone is on top of it."
