"Can we come see her?" Liam asks quickly, his voice so hopeful. "Can we talk to her?"
"She's asleep. She's gonna be sleeping for a while, but Pop will bring you tomorrow. You're going to stay there for a while, okay? Until we can get Mama home," I tell my oldest, my voice dropping low and firm. "Please watch out for your brother if he has nightmares. I'm going to stay here with your Mama, but you can always call me, alright? The second you need me, you call."
"We'll be okay, Daddy," Liam assures me, and his teenage voice, deepened by puberty, sounds so old and wise now. "Stay with Mama, I got Noah. Don't worry."
My boy. My little man.
"I'm so proud of you, Liam."
"I love you, Dad," Liam says, before adding. "Tell Mama I love her. Even if she can't... just tell her, okay?"
"I'll tell her. Is Noah there?"
"Noah!" Liam calls, and I hear steps running back before Noah's voice comes through the phone.
"Daddy, I told Mom-Mom, she just talked to Pop. We can really come see her tomorrow?"
"Yes, buddy. Tomorrow. Mama needs to rest tonight, but I promise you can see her tomorrow."
Noah gasps, excited. "Oh! I'll paint her a picture!"
"I'd bet she'll love that," I smile at my baby boy, picturing his little ginger self bouncing in excitement. "We can hang it up in her room here. It'll make her so happy. Why don't you go do that and then head to bed? The sooner you get to sleep, the sooner you can see Mama."
"Okay, Daddy. Tell Mama I love her!"
"I will," I promise. "I love you, boys. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight!"
I wait until they hang up before slipping my phone back in my pocket. Wendy hasn't moved an inch, only her chest rising and falling as she breathes.
Still, I don't fall into my own mind. I don't dwell on what-ifs. My wife is alive and breathing, my sons are with my parents, safe.
All is well for now.
I smile and lean forward, gently running my fingers over the soft skin of Wendy's face.
My chest feels ready to burst at the moment with all the love inside of it. I lean down to press a long kiss to her forehead.
"You raised some good boys, baby."
Chapter Forty-Three
Atlas
"Atlas..."
My head snaps up at the scratchy, faint voice.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I focus on Wendy, and my heart jumps when I see her half-lidded green eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
Her brow is pulled like she's confused or in pain—probably both—and I reach over and press the alert button like Dr. King showed me last night.
"Baby?" I say, keeping my voice soft as she slowly blinks.
The sight of her awake and moving causes a wave of relief to wash over me.
"Atlas..." The air is knocked from me when she finally connects those beautiful green eyes to mine, a little cloudy, but there's recognition there.
