Melanie hesitated, then stood. No apology. No eye contact. She brushed past me and left.
Scott was there immediately, his arms tightening around me as I let go, crying in broken, breathless sobs.
“I’ve got you,” he soothed, but my mind kept slipping past his arms, past the room, past everything that still existed. I couldn’t see a version of my life that didn’t include Jake, and the one unfolding in front of me felt wrong. Unlivable.
I didn’t want to be strong. I didn’t want to survive this. I didn’t want the days that would keep coming, whether I could stand them or not. I wanted my son back—or I wanted out of the life that had taken him.
Scott guided me down the hall into our bedroom and lowered me onto the bed. I curled in on myself, knees drawn tight. The mattress dipped behind me, and Scott’s arms came around from behind, something he’d done a thousand times before, but never like this. Never to keep me from slipping away.
“It’s true,” I said, the words breaking loose before I could stop them. “What Melanie said. It’s true.”
Scott didn’t move. He didn’t pull away either.
“When I found out I was pregnant with Jake, we were in a bad place. I was scared,” I said. “I was thinking about leaving. I couldn’t see how to bring another child into that uncertainty.”
My voice shook, but I didn’t stop. “I’d already made the appointment… and then Marty came to the apartment.” Silence. “And after I ran to my father’s hotel, the decision felt… settled.”
I waited for his anger, but when it didn’t come, I kept talking.
“Melanie was taking me to the clinic when we crashed,” I said. “Then you came to the hospital and found out I was pregnant. It took me a little time to get used to the idea that we were having another baby, but once I did… you know how much I love him. How excited I was for him to be born.”
“I know, Babe,” he whispered. “I know.”
I nodded, needing to hear it. Needing to know that he knew.
“And once he was here, I never thought about it again. He was just—” my voice broke. “Just my Jake. My baby. My everything.”
The sob tore through me before I could catch it. Scott turned me toward him. I tried to look away, the ache too exposed to face him, but his fingers found my face anyway. His touch was soft. Gentle. Not the hands of a man who hated me. I looked up at him then, undone by the depth of his devotion. The way he was still here.
“Why do you love me?” I whispered.
“Why’s the sky blue?” he said softly. “I just do, Michelle. I always have.”
I kissed him with what little strength I had left. “I love you,” I said, my lips trembling against his. It wasn’t enough, but it was all I had.
“What if she’s right, Scott? What if I doomed him? What if this… what if this is fate circling back around?”
Scott’s hands stayed firm on my face, steadying.
“No,” he said. The word was final. “There’s no force in this world that punishes love. And there is no version of reality where our son is a mistake.”
My lips trembled, and I broke open all over again.
“I can’t feel him anymore,” I sobbed. “I don’t feel him. Why don’t I feel him?”
He tightened his hold, anchoring me there, keeping me from coming apart.
“I don’t know why you can’t,” he said. “But I can.”
I stilled, waiting, needing something to hold onto.
“With everything I have,” he continued, “I feel him. He’s alive, Michelle. And I’m going to find him.”
After Melanie’s final blow,insomnia took over. I drifted through the house like a ghost, pacing the halls, staring at the walls, and waiting for dawn to rescue me from myself. Scott finally called our victim advocate. A doctor showed up in my living room and prescribed sleeping pills.As needed, he said. It turned out I needed them all the time. After that, the days blurred. I didn’t know how long Jake had been missing. I didn’t remember much of anything, and that was the point.
A feminine hand rested on my cheek, cool and trembling.
“Mom?”
