Page 8

Story: Say You’ll Stay

If someone told him a week ago that he’d be at his wife’s bedside holding their baby in his arms, Cole would have laughed because that’s ridiculous.

It still is. He’s no one’s husband and Lucy isn’t his, but he claimed them anyway, thinking it might offer an additional level of protection. Now he’s getting the side eye from their hosts.

They saw the bruises on her skin when inserting the IV.

They’ve assumed he’s the one who put them there.

Haven’t said anything yet, but he’s boxed himself into a corner.

When Olivia wakes up from her six-hour nap, after curling her hand around his arm like he’s some sort of security blanket, he’ll have to explain why they’ve become an instant family.

The mixture of shock and disgust he knows he’ll see at that revelation isn’t something he’s in a hurry to prompt.

At least Lucy seems unbothered. He had to wrangle the baby back from the older ladies fussing over her. Hadn’t wanted to give her up at first, but needed to be free to defend them, and a bunch of grannies didn’t pose any threat.

“Momma’s gonna wake up real soon,” he says to Lucy, where she’s snuggled into the crook of his arm. Those clear blue eyes gaze up at him and her little hands grab his offered finger .

She’s a good baby. Olivia thinks he’d call her a hassle, but she only cries when she’s hungry or wet.

Doesn’t carry on for no reason. Perfectly happy to be loved on by three grandmothers and even looks up at this dirty stranger like she knows him.

Babies don’t know anything at this age, but she watches Cole like she watches Olivia, as if he’s important.

She imprinted on him, perhaps, but she’ll learn soon enough that he’s no one and nothing.

“They think I hurt her,” he whispers to Lucy. “Probably think I’d hurt you, too.”

She makes a weird face, shoving half her fist in her mouth.

“Yeah, that’s what I think, but not like I can blame them. Said you both were mine. Your daddy left his mark behind, so now I look like the asshole. Don’t tell your mom I said asshole.”

He’s got to cut back on the cursing. He’ll feel terrible if her first word turns out to be fuck .

“Need to explain soon or we won’t get to stay. Well, you two might. Don’t think they’d kick you out, but I’m not trying to leave yet. Sure as hell, don’t trust anyone new with you.”

She grabs his pinky finger again, giving it a squeeze.

“Seem decent enough, I guess. Too soon to tell, but they helped us. That’s something. What do you think?”

The string of drool down the corner of her mouth is all the reply he’s granted.

“Alright, well, if you get some opinions, feel free to let me know. Don’t be shy about it.”

Her face screws up in concentration and he winces. “Are you making one of those toxic shits again? Warn a guy.”

He’s already changed her twice and both times he felt the scent waft deep into his soul and nearly strangle the life out of him.

He’s never changed a baby before, but one of the ladies shoved a diaper at him with a hard glare as if he better earn his keep and he didn’t argue.

She gave him instructions the whole time with a judgmental frown, as if he might chuck the entire baby out the window instead.

When he glances over at Olivia, he’s surprised to find her awake, watching them both with a hooded gaze and that warm half-smile he’s growing fond of.

“Hey,” she says, reaching out to run her fingers over Lucy’s blonde hair.

“Hey. How long have you been up?”

“Just long enough to find out that I’m married again and my baby makes toxic shits.”

There’s wry teasing in those words, and he can’t help but huff out an amused sound as he braces for that incoming look of revulsion. “About that…”

“You thought we’d be safer if someone new saw us as a family. If they assumed you’d fight for us.”

“Yes. I dunno how safe they think you are with me, though. I’ve been getting a lot of hard stares.”

“They think you’ve done this.” She gestures to the arm that still holds an IV right above those yellow fingerprints. “I’ll set them straight. I promise.”

There’s no trace of that disgust he expected. She’s not so turned off by him after all that she’d scowl at his attempt to help with a well-crafted lie. “That’ll be hard to do without admitting the truth.”

She nods with an agreeable sigh and scoots upright, only asking for the baby when Lucy starts to fuss. She was going to sit there and let him hold this kid all he wanted, like it was no big thing. Didn’t snatch her back the moment her eyes opened. That feels big to him, almost monumental.

“She likes you. Babies have good instincts about people.”

He wants to believe that, but instead of agreeing, he only blurts out what’s been bothering him since it happened. “You thought I’d leave you alone in an alley.”

“That’s got everything to do with me and nothing to do with anything you’ve done. I’m the one who’s broken when it comes to trusting, but I’m trying. I really am.”

She was delirious and almost unconscious. He doesn’t hold it against her, but it hurt all the same. Only now, her soft voice and those slow blinks hiding a regretful shine to her eyes are like a balm on the deepest part of him that never feels good enough.

“You know that ‘trust no one’ line from that TV show about aliens?” she continues.

He nods.

“Been my motto for a long time. Hard habit to break.”

I get that.

No worries.

I’m fucked in the head, so I’ll do worse than leave you, eventually.

All perfectly decent answers that never see the light of day.

“We ah…we’re good. It’s all good.” Is what he stutters out instead, wishing he could pry the foot from his mouth.

“You’re already the best husband I’ve ever had,” she says softly, with a glint of mischief.

He snorts with a duck of his head.

“So, what’s wrong with me? Did they tell you? Where are we?”

“You’re exhausted and you’ve overdone it. That’s what the nurse said.”

“There’s medical staff here? Is it a hospital? Someone had to put the IV in.”

“Just the one. It’s a long-term care facility,” he tells her. “They’ve been protecting the residents.”

“Then why do you look so worried?”

“That trust no one thing isn’t only your motto, but they did us a favor when they didn’t have to. Maybe it’s alright and I’m worried for nothing.”

He doesn’t admit that his biggest concern is the lack of barriers between this place and the outside world, especially in the city.

She’ll probably want to stay. Hell, he does too at the moment.

They have soft beds. Everything’s clean, with plenty of running water and even electricity from the generator.

Supplies if they get sick. It’s a fucking oasis, and he’s grateful they found it when she needed it most, but she might not want to leave with him again when it’s time.

That’s a bridge to cross later, though. He’s thinking too far in advance when he needs to be happy she’s awake and looking better than she has in days.

“Want some dinner? A shower?” he asks.

“There’s hot water?”

“Yep. I was gonna take one but didn’t want to leave until you woke up.”

“You go first. She and I will be okay until you get out.”

He hesitates. The bathroom is only a few feet away, but he’d be unable to help if something goes wrong. These people think he hurts his wife. They could be waiting for him to fall asleep or leave the room to try to get her away from him.

“Go, young man. You smell like the sewer.”

A sassy voice breaks in, attached to one of the women who fussed over Lucy .

“Miss Sally here took a liking to the baby,” Cole explains. “Said she’d come to check in again.”

“You heard her, then.” Olivia winks. “Go wash the sewer off. Leave the door open a crack.”

He does as he’s told. Can’t be smelling awful around Olivia. He’s on edge the entire time but scrubs with that flowery soap on the counter and can’t deny how good it feels to be clean. Even runs a comb through his dark hair for the first time in forever.

Without intending to eavesdrop, he catches a few snippets of conversation. Sally goes on about how cute Lucy is, telling Olivia she had six kids back in the day and she better get some rest…or else.

When he emerges ten minutes later, he’s glad they’re alone and Olivia’s got a tray of food in front of her filled to the brim with muffins, soup, and bread.

“There’s one for you, too.” She points to the corner where his tray waits, her eyes crinkling when she gives him a once-over.

He’s self-conscious about the effort he put in, but she doesn’t comment or make fun.

Half a tray of food later, he’s left alone with the baby as if he’s completely trustworthy while she takes her turn in the shower, and fuck if that doesn’t feel better then it has a right to.

That’s a running theme with her, he realizes.

Feeling a lot of new things he never expected or wanted, but now that they’re here, he cycles between fighting it and admitting, if only to himself, that it isn’t so bad.

“Just me and you again, kitten,” he says to Lucy, opening a package of chocolate pudding. “Wait until you’re old enough to eat this stuff. It’ll change your life.”

* * *

“That’s an interesting nickname you have for her.”

When Olivia returns, all shiny and clean and highlighted by the window light, he has to fight the urge to look away. She was pretty before, but something about her fresh from the shower has him mesmerized.

She’s got nice collarbones. They carve little valleys into her body and he wonders what they might feel like under his fingers if he traced one. Her long, dark blonde hair has gone wavy as it air dries, hanging soft against delicate skin.

Even the slope of her nose catches his attention with how gracefully it glints in the light of the sun. She is like something out of a painting and he’s certain the creator fussed over every perfect brush stroke.