Sometimes you leave them alone, and the next thing you know, you’re looking at their small body in a tiny coffin, and your mom is sobbing with her hand on their chest, crying about how she can’t feel them breathing.
So tonight, I won’t be leaving. I’ll keep my hand on Arlo’s back, and I’ll keep track of his every breath. I won’t leave him alone again. I won’t make the same mistake a second time.
I can’t bear the thought of another coffin and a motionless chest.
Chapter 18
Arlo
Istartleawakeatwhat sounds like someone coughing.
It’s weird. A leftover reflex from taking care of Salem and Nora growing up. When you have shitty parents, you find yourself taking care of your younger siblings more often than not.
A cough in the middle of the night might mean there’s a toddler throwing up. It might mean someone has a fever and needs medicine and a cool washcloth for their forehead.
But I’m not a kid, and sadly, Salem and Nora aren’t with me. Not anymore. Notyet.
I force my eyes open, surprised for a second when I’m at Jasper’s house.
There’s another noise, and I squint my eyes in the dark, then pat the bed next to me to try to wake Jasper up to see if he heard it too.
Coming up empty, I frown, then sit up and look around the room. He’s not in here with me.
I carefully climb out of bed. My meds have worn off, and my ribs are sore. Not as bad as they were, but still enough that I don’t want to make any quick movements. I tiptoe across the floor.
“Jasper?” I call out, my heart starting to pound in my ears.
A throat clears from the direction of the bathroom, and I slump in relief. “Be right out, baby boy.”
His voice sounds wrong. Choked off and pained. “Are you sick?”
I step closer to the door, pressing my ear to it. It’s dark in there, no light spilling out from under it. I frown. Why is he in the bathroom with the light off?
“Jasper?” I turn the handle, pushing against the door only for it to be slammed shut when I’ve only gotten it open a couple of inches. “What the fuck?”
“Just—” There’s a sharp inhale and then, “Give me a second, please.”
Well, fuck that. “Let me in.” I rest my forehead against the door, then rap on it with my knuckles. “If you’re sick, I want to take care of you.”
I mean, it’s not gonna be easy with the current state of my body, but taking care of Nora when she got her first stomach bug when I was only fourteen wasn’t easy either. Especially not when Salem started throwing up the second I got her cleaned up.
At least Jasper is an adult and can make it to the toilet. Probably, anyway.
“No. I’m not sick. Baby boy, I love you, but please—just… go back to bed.”
Tears blur my vision. Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand. I squeeze my eyes closed, then turn around, carefully lowering myself to the floor, resting the back of my head against the heavy wood.
“I’m just gonna sit right here,” I whisper, though I’m not sure he can even hear me.
It’s quiet for a second, and then there’s another sound. This one doesn’t sound like a cough or like retching. It sounds like—
I bolt to my feet, gasping at the pain that spirals through me, and beat on the door with my fist. “Goddammit, Jasper. Let me in.” He doesn’t, so I knock again. “Baby, please.”
I try the handle again, pushing hard against the door since I’m expecting it to be shut in my face again like before, and nearly stumble when it opens easily.
Flipping the switch on in a rush, my eyes adjust to the bright light, and I find Jasper sitting on the floor just inside the door, his knees drawn up and his face hidden in his hands.
I drop to my knees in front of him, my heart hammering.
