She glances my way.
揧ou probably can抰 understand that.?
When we were married, Stacey took care of the details, the small things.
All of them.
The appointments, school paperwork, homework, schedules, playdates. The laundry and food shopping and housework. Even when we took vacations, she booked the hotel, reserved the flights, the rental car, packed the boys?suitcases.
I only had to pack mine. All the other stuff was just . . . taken care of.
Because I was working. Because my mind was on my patients梠n becoming and being a doctor. And when I was home, I just wanted to spend time with the kids, with her. I needed that.
揑 don抰 know if I would抳e understood it then, but I get it now,?I tell her. 揂nd I knew you were unhappy . . . in the end. But I was so tired of trying, and fighting. I just . . . stopped caring. It抯 fucked up.?
揑t wouldn抰 have mattered. You couldn抰 save us, like one of your patients. You couldn抰 fix us, Connor.?
揑 know. But it抯 still wrong. You were my wife, the mother of my kids . . . I should抳e cared.?I look her in the eyes, my voice low and my words true. 揑抦 sorry.?
She nods softly, sadly.
揑抦 sorry too. For so much.?
Stacey抯 gaze drifts back to Aaron. 揂nd I抳e been sitting here thinking of all that time I抣l never get back with them. With Aaron. And I抳e been praying桰抳e been praying, please, God, take me instead.?
She shakes her head as tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks, her voice louder and higher pitched.
揑 just want one more hour with him, one more day. I want to hear his voice, Connor. Smell his hair. We can抰 . . . we can抰 lose him like this!?
I go down to my knees in front of her, pulling her into my arms and pressing her face to my shoulder as she unravels.
揑 know, Stace. I know.?
Her hands twist in my shirt.
揑 wasted all that time and I抦 so sorry!?
揝hhh, easy.?I run my hand down the back of her hair, my voice calming. 揧ou have to keep it together. I know it抯 hard, but this is the ICU; they will kick you out of here and I won抰 be able to do anything to stop it.?
She nods against me, pulling in a shuddering breath.
揑t抯 going to be different, Connor, I promise.?
揑 believe you.?
揈verything抯 going to be different between us from now on.?
I rock her gently while she cries.
揑 know it will be. It抯 okay; we抮e going to be okay, Stacey. You and me and the boys梬e抮e all going to be all right.?
*
Violet
揑t抯 going to be different, Connor, I promise.?
Shit.
揈verything抯 going to be different between us from now on.?
Shit, shit, shit.
揥e抮e going to be okay, Stacey.?
I抦 going to be sick. My stomach coils and twists and it抯 all my own fault.
Garrett and Callie stopped by the house to see the boys, so I drove to the hospital to drop off coffee for Connor and Stacey. The good stuff, not the turpentine they抳e probably been drinking from the break room or the vending machine. I thought they could use it.
And then when I heard them speaking, I waited outside the door to Aaron抯 room.
Because I didn抰 want to interrupt.
I wasn抰 listening . . . I was waiting. But then the words were just there.
揧ou and me and the boys梬e抮e all going to be all right.?
And because curiosity didn抰 just kill the cat, it broke its fucking heart too桰 peeked around the corner into the room. And I saw Connor holding Stacey in his arms, touching her hair.
I left after that梬ent down to the ED and talked with my coworkers, my friends. After twenty minutes, I walked back to the ICU. Stacey抯 eyes were puffy and Connor was somber, but they were sitting in their own chairs. I gave them the coffees and pretended like I抎 just gotten there.
My stomach was still churning, but I didn抰 let it show.
Maybe he was just comforting her. Jesus梩hat would be understandable. It doesn抰 have to mean anything more than that.
But it could.
And now their words are in my head. On repeat. Burrowing like a worm. Sucking at my soul like some kind of evil alien parasite.
I抦 not jealous . . . I don抰 work like that. I trust Connor completely. He抯 a good man, an honest man, he cares about me so much桰 feel it every time I抦 with him.
But I remember my parents. I remember one of the dozens of times my mom said it was 搑eally over.?And then Darren broke his arm skateboarding. And she called my dad because she needed someone, and he came home.
And it wasn抰 anything close to over anymore.
Emergencies clarify things. Show you what抯 important, strip away the trivial and petty, block out anything that doesn抰 matter. I抳e seen it, I know it, I抳e lived it. A sick child can tear a couple apart . . . or pull them right back together again.
That抯 how emotions work. How need and connections and histories work.
How family works sometimes.
And Connor抯 family is everything to him.
I can抰 think about this right now梐nd I can抰 ask Connor about it. His son is in the ICU, still critical. In the grand scheme of things, it抯 small and inconsequential.
Aaron is what matters.
So I put Connor and Stacey抯 words aside. And I do what needs to be done. Push on.
I don抰 let myself think about it. I don抰 get upset.
And I try my hardest to forget I ever heard it.
*
揌e抯 awake.?
Connor calls me the next day, his voice rough with exhaustion, but lighter than it抯 been in the three days since the accident.
揌e抯 awake, Violet. He抯 weak and still running a temperature and he抯 out of it from the pain meds, but he knows what抯 going on.?
This is good梚t抯 everything. Cool, sweet relief shoots through my veins梖or Connor and Aaron . . . for all of us.
Due to his fever, Aaron still can抰 have visitors, so I stay at the house with Brayden and Spencer. In the early evening I start to make them dinner. It抯 my mom抯 chicken cutlet recipe梐 comfort food cure for all things. But just as I抦 about to heat up the oil, my phone pings with an incoming text from Connor.
Stacey wants to come by to take the boys out to dinner. Is that okay?
I turn off the stove burner. And I remind myself that this is also a good thing梩hat whatever is going on between Stacey and Connor, whatever issues they had or have梥he抯 always going to be the boys?mother.
I grew up with a parent who didn抰 want me or my brother and sisters, who had no interest in us. I never want Connor抯 boys to know what that feels like.
So I text him back.
Yep梥ounds good.
Fifteen minutes later, there抯 a knock at the door.
Stacey is cool and stiff. 揌ello.?
揌i.?I give her a smile, because I have no reason not to. What Connor and I have is beautiful and solid and this woman is no threat to that. He抯 my boyfriend, and I抦 in his house taking care of his kids because that抯 where he wants梟eeds梞e to be. 揚lease, come in.?
Rosie remembers Stacey梥he trots into the foyer with her tail wagging furiously and her eyes wide.
揌i Rosie-girl. I抳e missed you!?Stacey drops to her knees, letting the dog lick her face while she pets her behind her ears.
The boys?reaction to their mom is noticeably less enthusiastic. I told them she was coming. Spencer seemed excited at first, but then he changed his tune梖ollowing Brayden抯 lead. And now they drag their feet into the foyer, with matching expressions fit for a hostage video.
Stacey greets them with a big smile, but there抯 an almost desperate tightness to her features that says she抯 aware she抯 skating on thin ice. That she has things to make up for and this is step one.