Chapter 8 - THE FIRST NIGHT HE STAYED
It happened because Evan developed a fever.
Nothing cardiac.
Nothing dangerous.
Just childhood illness.
Still, fear does not behave rationally after heart surgery.
At two in the morning, I checked his temperature again.
Damian was asleep on my couch.
I had called because Evan asked for him.
Not because I needed him.
At least that's what I told myself.
Damian woke when I entered.
“How is he?”
“Hundred and one.”
“Doctor?”
“Says fluids and monitoring.”
He nodded.
Then:
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I can watch.”
I almost refused.
Old reflex.
Then stopped.
“Okay.”
I went upstairs.
Slept three hours.
When I returned, Damian sat beside Evan's bed with a book open.
Evan slept.
Damian's hand rested near his ankle.
Not touching.
Just there.
Something inside me hurt.
This was the father my sons should've had.
This was the husband I had wanted.
But people do not earn retroactive years by behaving well today.
Damian knew that.
Maybe that was why he never asked.
At breakfast, Noah walked in and saw him.
“You slept here.”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you're married again?”
I nearly dropped the coffee.
Damian answered before me.
“No.”
Caleb frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because marriage is something adults decide together.”
Noah:
“Can we vote?”
“No.”
“That's unfair.”
Damian looked at me.
“Democracy has limits.”
I laughed.
First genuine laugh with him in years.
He heard it.
May you like
So did I.
Neither said anything.
