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“On my way.” Luke hung up and grabbed his keys.
Peeling out of the driveway, he sped down the street.
Upon pulling up to the hospital, he barely remembered parking. The faint smell of antiseptics hit him as he pushed through the main entrance, mingled with the distinct scent of animals. Soft whimpers and the occasional bark echoed in the background. His eyes darted, searching, until they landed on the sign marked Emergency. As if propelled, he sprinted down the hall, passing a cat in a carrier, and a child clutching a bird cage.
There they are.
His heart hammered in his chest as he rushed toward them.
“Luke!” Emma leaped up from the chair.
“I’m here,” he breathed, scanning her face for signs of how bad the situation might be, then stepping close.
She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging into his back as if clinging to life itself. Her breath, ragged and broken, puffed against his neck, each exhale heavy.
He pulled her close, trying to shield her and absorb her pain. They clung to each other for a long moment. Luke could feel the tremors running through her body.
He buried his face into her hair, taking a deep breath, the familiar scent grounding him. “It’s okay,” he whispered, rubbing circles on her back. “I’ve got you.”
As they stood, the initial panic slowly subsided, replaced by the sterile lights and the faint hum of the air conditioning. He felt a weight in his chest, a heavy realization that they were not out of the woods yet. People moved around them, their faces blurred in Luke’s peripheral vision, and he caught snippets of conversations from other worried pet owners.
Reality began to creep in, pushing aside the emotional rush. A need for understanding bubbled up. “Emma...” He gently pulled back, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek, and looked deeply into her eyes. “What happened?”
She swallowed, struggling with the words. “He was...” Her voice faltered, but before she could finish, Jeremiah interjected, “A car hit him.”
Luke’s face paled. “Did the vet give an update on him?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Not yet.”
Luke glanced down at Emma, seeing her distress mirrored in her eyes. With gentle care, he guided her to a nearby chair and made sure she was seated, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “We’ll wait here as long as it takes,” he whispered to her.
Turning his attention back to Jeremiah, he took a seat beside him. “Jer, why were you with Riley?”
Before Jeremiah could respond, Emma turned and met Luke’s gaze. “Your son’s a hero, and so is Riley.”
She began to cry all over again as Jeremiah passed her a box of tissues, his own eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing his arm and squeezing it.
Luke leaned forward, grabbing Emma’s hand. He looked into her eyes, then glanced at Jeremiah. “I’m having trouble following all of this. What happened?”
Emma steadied herself and wiped away her tears. “I was about to leave to make some deliveries when Jeremiah came over to apologize for everything, and that’s when Chad showed up...”
Luke’s grip on Emma’s hand tightened, an unconscious reaction as he pictured Chad approaching her. His jaw clenched at the thought. Anger, sadness, and disbelief all competed for space in his heart. His other hand balled into a fist at his side.
His mind raced.
Visions of Jeremiah as a young boy flashed before him. He remembered a sunny afternoon at the park, Jeremiah, no older than seven, running with the red kite trailing behind him, looking back with wide eyes, waiting for Luke to catch up. The memory of his tiny sneakers pounding the grass, his carefree innocence, and his absolute trust that his father would always be there to guide him and protect him, made a lump form in Luke’s throat.
The contrast of that memory with the present hit him hard. Jeremiah was no longer that little boy but somewhere in between a child and man. Bittersweet emotions washed over Luke: all at once, guilt for not being there to protect his son, and surging pride that Jeremiah had thrown himself in the face of danger to defend the woman that Luke loved.
With watery eyes, he turned to Jeremiah. “I’m so proud of you, son. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jeremiah said with a smile.
Without a word, Luke pulled him close, burying his face in the crook of his neck, just as he used to during thunderstorms when Jeremiah was a toddler. Jeremiah’s hands, though larger now, grasped the back of Luke’s shirt with a familiar intensity, transporting Luke back to days long past.
This was a moment Luke would hold on to forever.
