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“Okay, Jake. Love you.”
I’m looking right at Jake when my son tells him he loves him. The shock and joy on his face is so swift and real that I can’t breathe.
“Love you, too, buddy. More than you know,” he responds, emotion thick in his voice.
He hangs up and then looks at me. “He loves me.”
“I heard,” I answer, not sure how I feel about it either.
“Fuck, Katie, he said he loves me.”
“Jake…”
“He loves me,” he repeats.
There’s so much joy in his voice that there’s no mistaking it. Then he does something that completely rocks my world.
He leans down, gently puts a hand on each side of my face and presses his lips carefully against mine. It’s brief and little more than a grazing touch, because he’s being delicate with me.
“Our son loves me, sunshine.”
He’s beaming when he looks down at me, his thumb stroking against my cheek. That feeling of falling down the rabbit hole and finding myself in a different world just intensifies.
CHAPTER 25
Jake
One Week Later
“Hey, sunshine.”
“I thought you were going back home today,” she grumbles.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” I respond, my gaze raking over Katie. She looks so much better than she has, but there’s a tightness in her face that’s not normally there.
“I’ve got news for you, Jake. There’s no right side when it’s a hospital bed.”
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
“I just got done with therapy, so yes.”
“You do therapy every day, but you aren’t normally like this,” I point out and from the look on her face, I’m risking my life. I sit down and look at her, expecting her to light into me. Instead, she starts crying. It’s a silent cry, with just these big sloppy tears sliding out of her eyes. “Woah, what’s going on?” I ask, alarm bells immediately going off. I sit down on the empty space on the mattress and use my thumb to wipe away her tears. “Talk to me.”
“I couldn’t even walk six steps today, Jake. How am I supposed to take care of Mom and Lennon?”
“Sweetheart, you just started therapy three days ago. You had a lot of damage and swelling. It’s going to take time.”
“I don’t have time. Lennon needs me. Mom needs me.”
“Katie, we all need you. It’s going to take time, but you will get there and you’re not alone.”
“Jake—”
“Sweetheart, you had shrapnel compressed against your spinal cord. There was swelling and bruising. With all of that you had a concussion and internal bleeding. Your body has been through a hell of a lot. You coded on the operating table. Do you realize how good you are doing? It has only been a little over a week. You’re a miracle.”
“I’m not sure I can deal with you like this,” she mutters, studying me.
“Like what?”
