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Cara
Waking up, I stretch out and let out a little sigh when I don’t hear Wesley crying. It doesn’t happen much nowadays. If I’m waking up, it’s to my little monster letting out a little wail. Screeching and crying or grunting and babbling. To wake up to silence, my morning instantly feels a little more peaceful.
Wait, what?
I shoot up, suddenly freaking out at the fact that Wesley is not crying. All of the horrible and terrifying thoughts run through my mind as I try to rub the sleep out of my eyes and look over to Wesley’s bassinet.
I freeze.
Jackson’s arm is extended over Wesley’s Halo bassinet and his long fingers brush over a sleeping Wesley’s forehead ever so gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I sit there on my knees in the center of the bed, my eyes as wide as they will go and my jaw slack. Hanging off its hinges.
“W-what?” I whisper. “How?”
Jackson shrugs. Uses a little bit of his shoulder.
I start crying. “When?” Wesley startles, and Jackson starts rubbing his head in a different direction until Wesley settles back down.
“Last night.” He mumbles, seemingly disconnected. He doesn’t seem as happy as I thought he would be.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I don’t sleep, Cara. No reason for you to not sleep, too.”
I settle back into the bed, heart slowing down now that I know Wesley is okay. “Well, tell me. What happened?”
He shrugs again. “Nothing, really. It felt like when your foot is asleep. My arms started getting a weird tingle, and slowly the sensation started coming back.”
“What about your legs?” The thought that he could get up off this bed right now and things could go back to normal is fucking mind boggling.
When he shakes his head somberly, I understand why his expression is so disconnected. Only half of him works, and half is never good enough for Jackson.
This last week since Jackson’s doctor and physical therapy appointment has been filled with constant exercises. Not my idea, it’s been all Jackson’s. I tried telling him he needed to take it easy, but he wouldn’t listen. Maybe it paid off, after all.
“Have you tried doing anything? Getting up or anything?”
He shakes his head. “I feel… weak.” He looks over at Wesley and keeps rubbing his head. “He’s so soft.” He mumbles. “I never thought… I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel him.” He seems so content, just sitting there with his hand on Wesley. Like it’s the best thing in the world.
“He’s perfect, Cara. I never said that before, but he’s a good baby.”
I nod, tears filling at his kind words. “He is.”
“He looks like you.”
“Mhmm.”
“I think he has my eyes, though.”
My eyes widen at his words. He’s never actually acknowledged that Wesley is his child. From my knowledge, he was contemplating throughout the entire pregnancy that Wesley might be Logan’s. For him to admit, in any form, that he’s his…
“I thought you thought he was Logan’s.”
He cringes. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
I scoot away from him, not liking the look on his face. At all.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”
