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“Hospital staff won’t tell us much, but they’ve told everything they can, thanks to Lily,” Cade continued. “He’s in surgery. Didn’t look good at the start. Looks slightly better now, but I don’t think that’s saying much. I’m not going to give you false hope, Lizzie. I respect you too much for that. I wish to fuck I could lie to you.” He ran a hand through his hair.
He was preparing for another funeral. I saw it in his face.I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there when Lauren arrived. It must’ve been awhile because it had gotten dark outside.
It was dark on the inside of me, so I liked that, at least.
I hadn’t taken much notice of anything or anyone, blocking out the world as I sat in limbo. But a mother had a sense when her kid was near, so I jerked myself out of my oblivion to see my son standing beside Lauren, looking pale and scared but doing his best to look brave.
“What is he doing here?” I snapped at Lauren in a tone she did not deserve.
“He said he’d break out of our house and walk here if I didn’t drive him,” she replied in a kind tone that I, too, did not deserve. She smiled sadly. “Lily is sleeping.”
I frowned at my son, hating what he’d see on my face. On my entire body.
Defeat.
“Mom, you’re not going through this alone,” he informed me in a tone too strong for a boy his age.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m not alone.” I nodded around the waiting room, which was wall to wall with Sons of Templar patches and various wives.
Jack didn’t look at them. Instead, he sat down beside me and took my hand in his. “You’re not alone now,” he corrected. “Kace is my friend. You love him. We love him too. I know you think I’m too young to be here, I know you want to protect me, but it’s too late. I’m too smart.” He smiled weakly. “So you can ground me when this is all over, but no matter what, I’m staying here until we get the news that Kace is okay.”
Lauren wiped her eyes, giving me a look and blowing me a kiss before leaving.
There were no tears for me. Not even with Jack breaking my heart and soul. I couldn’t cry right now. That was for after.
As much as I wanted to lie to Jack, and myself, I couldn’t. “Honey, you need to know. Kace might not be okay. We need to be prepared for that.”
Jack frowned, jutting his chin up in that stubborn way his father used to do. “He’s going to be okay,” he repeated firmly. As if the stronger he spoke the statement, the more likely it was to be true.
I didn’t have the heart to try and argue. Instead, I tried to believe it with the same strength that my son had. Tried to hope that the world couldn’t possibly be so cruel as to take away my only other chance at love. Life.The doctor came eventually. They said a lot of things. Though I didn’t absorb most of it, mostly holding on to the fact that he was still alive. I chose not to let the words like ‘critical’ and ‘no guarantees’ get through. No, alive was all I needed. The rest couldn’t sink in. Because he couldn’t die.
Wouldn’t.
Jack’s small hand was tight in mine. Suddenly, my son became so much larger. So much more mature. Yet another tragedy unfolding, molding him into the man he was meant to be much too soon.
Though I wanted to clutch on to my son and benefit from all of the strength he was holding in his body, the strength he was sharing with me, I urged him to go home. Be with his sister. Look after her. That was the only way to convince him. He was a protector, my boy. It was a struggle for him to leave me, even now. Even with all of the men sitting in the waiting room. He reminded me so much of his father in that moment, the pain almost crippled me. The memory of my dead husband in his son, already preparing to grieve the second man who had entered his life. Who I’d given him permission to love. Who I’d given myself permission to love because there was no way I’d bury two men in Sons of Templar cuts.
People survived things like this, surely. They had to. Mothers had no choice but to survive anything and everything.
Mothers had to put on false faces to assure their sons that they would be okay in the hospital without them. That’s what I would do if alive stopped being the word used to describe Kace.
I would be nothing but a museum of pain. But I would not let my children see that. I would be a woman in a mask.
