Page 101 of Je T'aime, Actually

Poppy gave him a small, teary smile. He stood there a moment longer, then leant in and rested his hand gently on his dad’s arm.

“I’ll come back tomorrow too,” he said softly, “if you want.” He glanced up at Poppy, seeking her permission. When she nodded, he added, his voice trembling, “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry you’re not at home.”

The words cracked open something in him, and the tears came fast: hot, silent, overwhelming.

“Oh, sweetie, come here,” Poppy said, pulling him into her arms as she sank down to her knees beside him. She held him tight, cradling him close. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

Benji buried his face in her shoulder, his small body shaking with sobs. And for a while, that was all there was: mother and son, wrapped around each other in the quiet hum of machines and healing.

“It’s going to be alright,” Poppy reassured. “We’re going to be okay.”

eighty-six

Kitty sat cross-legged on the cafeteria chair, pink icing smeared across her lips as she demolished a frosted doughnut with all the restraint of a child who hadn’t had sugar in days.

Benji slurped noisily from a can of Coke, eyes focused on the floor, his fingers tapping the metal.

Monroe’s arm wrapped gently around Poppy’s shoulders. Poppy leant into the touch, tired but visibly lighter, a shimmer of hope softening the tight lines around her eyes.

“They said it could be any time now,” she murmured, her voice quiet but steadier. “The next twenty-four hours are…promising.”

Monroe gave her a small squeeze. “That’s incredible, Pops. Really.”

Poppy shook her head, brushing away a strand of hair. “This morning…I thought he squeezed my hand.”

Monroe turned, eyes soft. “Did he?”

“I wasn’t sure. I figured I was imagining it. I was exhausted. But now…” She glanced at Kitty, now licking icing from herfingers, and at Benji, who looked up briefly before returning his attention to the Coke can. “Now I think he really did. Just for a second.”

“Then I believe you,” Monroe said. “And I think he’s trying to come back.”

Poppy nodded, a smile flickering through her exhaustion. “Yeah. I think so too.”

“Can we go and sit with Dad again?” Benji asked, crushing the now-empty can between his palms.

Kitty stopped licking her fingers and looked up. “Can we?”

Monroe glanced at the clock, then over at Chloé, who offered a soft, encouraging smile—the kind that said, ‘Whatever you want to do is okay with me.’

“I don’t see why not,” Monroe said. “Just for a little while.”

Poppy stood slowly, rubbing her hands against the sides of her jeans. “Let’s go then. But quietly, yeah? Just sit with him.”

Kitty slid off her chair, still sticky-fingered, and reached for Monroe’s hand.

“We need a detour to the bathroom to wash these sticky mitts,” Monroe said, holding Kitty’s hand in the air as the kid laughed.

Even Benji laughed as he walked between Poppy and Chloé along the dim corridor.

“I take it the doughnut was worth every bite?” Monroe asked Kitty, as they veered into the women’s bathroom and let the others go on.

“Yeah, best ever.”

Monroe doubted that but wouldn’t argue. She pressed the dispenser for soap and ran a hand under the tap to activate it.

“When Daddy comes home, we’ll get some Krispy Kremes. You’ll like those better.” She grinned through the mirror at Kitty as she washed her hands.

“Dad loves doughnuts.”