Page 66 of Consume Me

A weight lifted off my shoulders, but I couldn’t quite ignore the dread still lingering inside me. I was delaying the inevitable. I wouldn’t be able to keep him with me. Still, he was here now and that was enough.

Alexander sat carefully on the edge of the bed and reached a tentative hand towards him.

“Go on, X,” I urged him. I appreciated his cautious respect, but he was the only person I didn’t mind touching our son.

“Change your mind on the name?” he asked, brushing the baby’s cheek with reverence.

“Not unless you have.” An unexpected bubble of laughter burst out of me. I’d gone from sobbing to laughing in the pan of a minute. I was losing my mind.

“Then hello there, William.” Alexander’s hand cupped his head and the baby turned slightly like he liked the attention before returning to my breast.

“Now we only have twenty more to choose from,” I said dryly. As soon as I spoke my good mood evaporated. We’d discussed the baby’s middle names and how to best pay tribute to the other men of our family. Now I couldn’t bear thinking of those names and all the sorrow that accompanied them.

Albert. The man who’d given his life to save his son’s, but left a complicated web behind him. The man who had made me feel small and little and unwanted. The man who might have been protecting us from this all along. Could I allow my son to carry that moniker? Could I handle its weight?

Edward. The brother I’d never had. My best friend. My confidant. The best of us. He was the person I’d most wanted to honor, but now it hurt to think of him. Not because my feelings toward him had changed, but because of the terrible secret I carried.

Harold. My father’s name and the one I’d been most worried about now felt like a safe choice.

And then there was David. I could barely bring myself to think his name.

“We have time.” Alexander leaned over and kissed me. “Make them wait a few days. Make them wait a month. It will drive the bookies crazy.”

I tried to smile but it came out lopsided. My heart wasn’t in it.

Alexander seemed to sense this. He stayed close while giving me space, allowing the doctor and nurse to finish the final assessments.

When Dr. Thompson came to listen to William’s heart, I reluctantly turned him away from me.

She bent her gray head down and listened intently, her face remaining composed. It was too perfect. No reaction.

Something was wrong.

“What is it?” I asked, unwilling to sit and wait for her to deliver the bad news. I’d been preparing mentally for this since I’d found out about William’s heart condition, but the truth was that nothing could ever prepare you for a sick child.

I was his mother. It was my job to protect him. He’d grown inside me, and no matter how much reason and common sense was laid at my feet, I felt responsible. Maybe I could have done more. Maybe I was to blame.

“I think it would be a good idea to have the surgeon come in sooner.” She straightened, her lips a flat line.

“We should have had the c-section,” I said as guilt shook me.

“That doesn’t matter.” She waved off the idea with such dismissal that it almost made me feel better. “And he’s here now, but I do believe the valve will need attention sooner rather than later. I’ll give you two a few moments.”

She disappeared with the nurse, giving us our first real moment of alone time. I sighed into the feeling. This was where I belonged with Alexander in our own world. When I looked up, I found his lashes wet.

“Hey, X. How are you doing?” He’d been so concerned with me that I hadn’t asked him.

“Does that matter?” He forced a crooked grin that didn’t quite match him anymore. There had been a time when that wicked smirk could stop any conversation, no matter how serious, and get me thinking about something else. But since that was the last thing I felt like thinking about at the moment, it didn’t work now.

“It matters to me.” With the baby sleeping peacefully on my chest, I finally took one hand off William and placed it over my husband’s.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his eyes focused on our clasped hands.

“You didn’t.” It was a simple reminder but one we both needed. We’d walked through hell and we’d come out the other side. But there were burns that would take time to heal. We could only start that process together.

“We need to talk,” I continued, feeling more comfortable now that we were alone. “I have to tell you something…about David.”

“I know,” he said quickly.