Angela rested a warm hand on Noah’s chest, right over his heart, which was still threatening to claw its way out his chest and shoot across the room.
“You really love him, huh?”
“What?” Hiccup. He liked Ramin. Liked him a lot. Could see a future with him. Butlove?
“You used to look at me the way you look at him.”
It was impossible. It was unimaginable.
It was inevitable.
He loved Ramin. Loved him more than he knew he could. Loved him like he’d never loved before.
Maybe he always had.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “You’re right.”
Angela tried her best not to smirk, but it didn’t work.
“But I left him.”
“You can go back.”
Noah hiccupped again. He nodded.
“Now come on. Jake’s probably wondering what we’re talking about.”
Angela moved for the door, but Noah tugged her back.
“Angie? Thanks.”
A lively nurse in purple scrubs brought Jake his lunch. Noah stayed to help him eat while Angela took a break.
Jake looked so small in the hospital bed, propped up with what looked like a dozen pillows, Noah ached at the sight. He ran his handover Jake’s hair again and again. It was so soft. Sometimes, it was hard to separate the Jake before him, the one devouring a plate of ravioli, from the little baby he’d held to his heart and rocked to sleep.
But Jake was growing up. He was strong. He was mischievous. He’d had a minor procedure, but he was healthy.
“Hey Dad?” Jake looked up from his empty plate.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“What’s a martyr?”
Noah chuckled. Jake was a masterful eavesdropper.
“You heard that, huh?”
Jake shrugged.
“It’s someone who gives their life for something they believe in.”
Jake’s eyes widened.
“But what your mom meant is that sometimes I try too hard to make other people happy, even if it makes meunhappy.”
Jake looked at him with those big brown eyes of his. His lip quivered. “I don’t want to make you unhappy.”
“What? Buddy, you could never. Why would you ever think that?”
