“Hey, hey, hey… baby, it’s okay.” I slide onto the bed next to him, careful not to disturb any of his wires. My hands gently cup his face, the contact soothing some of my jagged edges.
Hud opens his eyes, the blue bright and vibrant behind his tears. He blinks slowly, then a second time.
“No?” I ask him, hoping he’s trying to finally tell me something.
One blink.
“Yes?”
He closes his eyes, clearly frustrated that he can’t communicate what he wants to say. I grab the whiteboard and offer it to him.
“Will you write it for me?” He opens his eyes again and just stares. “Please?”
Lifting his hand slowly, he takes the board. It shakes as he positions it in his lap. Uncapping the marker, I hand it to him, and he begins to write.
“Not okay.”
“You’re not okay?” I ask, wanting him to clarify.
His hand swipes sluggishly across the words to erase them before writing again. “Nothing.”
Nothing. Nothing is okay.
“Hud… you’re alive. You're here, where you belong.”
His head shifts from side to side, the movement limited by the tubes and wires.
More tears stream down his face, and my heart squeezes, my own emotions trying to break free.
I need to be strong for Hudson.
Haveto be.
My hand brushes his cheek, clearing the moisture away. “Hud, baby, will you look at me?”
He hesitates for a moment, his gaze slow to focus on me.
“You once told me you don’t want to be tiptoed around—that you don’t want to be seen as weak.” I swipe at another tear with my thumb. “Remember?”
I need to ask him this question, whether he is ready to face what has happened or not.
He gives me a singular, slow blink.
“Yes”
“The day you…” I take a fortifying breath. “The day you jumped. Did you listen to your heart or your head?”
His wide eyes search mine, fear staring back at me. I already know the answer, now he just needs to admit it to himself.
“You don’t have to be scared of the answer,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He shudders slightly at the soft contact.
“Did you listen to your brain?”
His tears flow freely, another slow blink that says so much.
“You want to know how I know everything is going to be okay?” His warm hand is clinging to mine now, a rough squeeze giving me anotheryes.
“Someone I love very much once said, ‘Never forget how strong you truly are. Our brains like to lie to us and tell us we can’t do things or that we’re weak. But it’s our heart where our courage truly lives. Listen to your heart. It will never lead you astray.’”
