Page 17

WINTER

I sit stiffly in the hospital’s waiting room, my hands clutching each other till my knuckles turn white. The waiting room we are in smells faintly of disinfectants and mildly of ammonia, the scent itself being something my nostrils can’t escape, no matter what.

The stark white walls don’t do a thing to calm me down, and neither does the clock hanging on the wall. I can hear every second the second-hand ticks, the sound itself mocking me relentlessly till I'm nothing short of a nervous wreck.

My eyes dart to the other people in the waiting room, and aside from me and Deacon, there’s an elderly woman coughing into her handkerchief, a young couple murmuring to themselves with their voices strained, but even from here, I can feel their anguish.

I can almost relate to the sense of self-guilt clinging to their shoulders because that’s what happened to me, too.

Adrian needed me, and I choked. I let him down. I just knelt there on the floor, watching him suffer in pain, and I couldn’t do anything to help him. All I had done the entire time was scream his name and hold his cold body, praying to the Goddess that I was somehow stuck in a bad dream, and when I woke up, everything would be fine.

Everything hadn’t been fine, though. Not when I failed to calm down and especially not when I had spooked Asher to death with my screams.

What kind of mother couldn’t protect her own child?

What kind of mother would I have been if I continued cooking while my son was fighting for his life on the cold floor of my own living room?

What if Deacon hadn’t called me? Would Adrian have gotten to the hospital in time?

My eyes water and I sprout another bout of tears from those thoughts alone. A warm, large hand splays on my back, rubbing my back up and down. If I’m being honest and Deacon wasn’t seated right next to me patting my back, I would have already succumbed to the tears and tore myself apart limb by limb for neglecting Adrian.

My wolf has been quiet the entire time, but her fear goes down a notch due to Deacon’s presence and his scent, which act like a warm comforting blanket.

Looking up again at the wall clock reminds me that the healers have been checking up on Adrian for almost an hour and a half. I don’t know whether to be worried that they are taking a lot of time on Adrian or to be thankful altogether.

Unlike the healer we had in the pack back in Moonstone, here in Bracken all healers capable of saving lives assemble in hospitals and help all those who need their services. When I gave birth, I had the best team of healers helping me out, and today while I sit on this uncomfortable, warm couch, my faith in them wanes a little.

There’s been the nurses who’ve been of no help at all in assisting me to figure out if things are going well with Adrian. Then, there’s the nauseating smell of ammonia from the clean white floors that has been grating on every nerve inside my body and making me feel like vomiting the little food sloshing in my stomach.

The nausea and the unease, however, fade away like smoke when I see Luka and Julie down the hall heading to us with Asher in tow. I wipe my tears quickly, and Deacon, who’d been by my side since the ambulance brought us here, stands up from the couch and gives me space.

“Mommy!”

I stand up and meet Asher halfway into the room.

Kneeling on the floor to hug him somehow takes the stress and the tension away. I hug his tiny body, listening to his little cries.

“Mommy is so sorry for screaming, baby. It won’t happen again. I promise. I promise you it won’t.”

Asher’s hands wrap around my neck tightly, and when I pull away from him, wiping the tears on his already red cheeks, he asks me, “Will Addie be, okay?”

I don’t know, baby, but I hope so.

“Yes. Your brother…he’s a fighter just like you, right? You are both Mommy’s little band of fighters. Of course, he’ll be okay.”

My baby nods, and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, trying not to cry and scare him more than I did tonight.

“Mmhmm. Addie knows how to fight, Mommy. I prayed to Daddy. He promised to watch over Addie from heaven and make him better again.”

The mention of their “daddy from heaven” raises a few eyebrows. The man who hasn’t spoken a word to me since he helped carry Adrian to the ambulance only shows a blank expression at Asher’s words.

I can’t tell what Deacon is thinking, and then again, I don’t think I care about anything other than my baby making it through the night.

“Okay, you little rascal. Wanna come to Uncle Luka so you can teach him to pray, too?” Luka breaks the awkwardness.

Asher, who is more than happy to spend time with Luka, runs to him, and they sit on the couch, mumbling something about prayers and whatnot.

Julie comes to stand by my side, engulfing me in a small hug, and I hold her close because the need to have people by my side when I’m internally panicking is greater now more than ever.

The last time I was in a hospital, no one was there to assure me everything was fine. Not anyone close, anyway. And no one was there to share my joy as I welcomed my babies into the world.

“He’ll be okay, Winter. Just like you said, Adrian’s a fighter. He’ll fight through this.”

I latch onto her words like a kid tasting honey for the first time. I trust in her words. I trust in the fact that the Goddess wouldn’t do something to Adrian when she’s already taken so much from me.

My prayers are answered when the healer and his team of nurses finally come to the waiting room to give news about Adrian.

I can almost hear the grating silence like an echo in my head by the time he speaks up.

“Miss Winter Cavanaugh?” he asks to confirm.

“I’m her. I’m Adrian Cavanaugh’s mom. How is my son doing?”

He takes a whole minute to speak, and in my dictionary, that minute is a second too long to not know my son’s fate.

“Your son is in the all-clear.”

I almost break into tears of joy as Julie and Luka both exclaim, “Thank the Goddess,” at the same time.

“He had an allergic reaction to an allergen that might have been in one of the foods he consumed today. Rest assured, I’ve prescribed a few medicines that should be able to stop this from happening again.”

The strangled sob that’d been lodged in my throat the entire time spills out of me, and along with it, so is the relief. Adrian’s okay. My baby…he is fine.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for helping my son.”

“Just doing my job, Miss Cavanaugh. If Adrian’s awake, you are allowed to take him home. Have a good night.”

The number of times I thank the healer and his nurses would be labeled as insanely weird, but nothing can put what I feel into words.

The healer and his nurses leave a minute later after being called to attend to some other patient.

I turn around to face Asher with a smile, and Luka and Julie gaze at the man standing a few feet from me. Noticing the tension and being relieved that the worst-case scenario has been averted, I tip my head at Julie, and my best friends get the memo because Luka says, “Let’s go, champ. Addie must be so excited to see you.”

Hesitantly, Asher holds onto Luka’s hand, but then he looks at Deacon, looks at me, and notices something fishy.

“Mommy, are you coming?”

“I’m right behind you, baby. Give Mommy a minute?”

He complies. I watch Luka, Julie, and my little boy walk down the hall to Adrian’s room.

Casting my eyes to Deacon feels like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope. A lot of different emotions mar his face. A lot of unreadable feelings carve his eyes, and from the twitching jaw and the way his fingers flex, I can almost sense his question sitting atop of me like a sword about to slice me in half.

“Adrian wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you. Thank you… for everything you did for me and my son tonight.”

For calling me.

For taking my boy in your arms and rushing him to the waiting ambulance outside when I couldn’t do so because I was too rattled by everything.

For getting into that ambulance with me while Luka and Julie looked after Asher.

Eerie silence befalls us. My heart is pumping so hard I can practically hear it pounding in my ears.

“How old are the boys, Winter?”

His brows slant. His eyes are impassive against mine.

“Thank you for your help once again,” I try my best to divert the topic. Goddess, do I try to deny whatever has already clicked in his mind?

My boys look like him. Their eyes. Their hair. Anyone with eyes can affirm that he’s their father, but I’d be damned if I admit that out loud.

He helped me bring Adrian here, but what if I tell him he’s the father and he rejects my boys like he did with me?

What if he takes them away from me? So many what ifs, and they all converge on one road. Deacon can’t know.

“Are they mine? Your boys? Asher and Adrian, are they ours?”

Ours? My boys have always been mine.

I see the plea in his eyes, I see the guilt, and I read the regret on his face. Maybe a better woman would cut him out of his misery and tell him the truth. But I’m not. I’ve never been like that since he broke me.

“No. You heard what my son said. Their father’s dead,” my voice comes out colder than I’d intended.

Deacon takes a step back like I’ve slapped him across the face. I expect him to push back and say that I’m lying. I expect him to lash out and call me names for keeping him away from his sons.

Deacon does none of that, though.

He asks of me the one thing I can’t refuse him.

“Can I come with you to see him?”

***

“Jules and I will head out. I never got to say this, but we are sorry for not seeing your calls and texts earlier. Work ran late in the office, and by the time we saw your texts—”

“Hey, I get it, and the most important thing is that Adrian is okay. I’ll call you once we get home.”

I escort Luka and Julie out of Adrian’s room, and as I walk back inside, I halt right by the door.

Asher is seated on Adrian’s bed as he chuckles at whatever his brother is saying. But that’s not the part that clenches my heart to a still.

Deacon sits on a chair near the bed, and he’s laughing with them, too, about something.

The sight itself is enough to make me feel guilty for keeping my sons from their father.

“Mommy, Mommy, can we stay at Deacon’s house tonight?” Asher asks, and I narrow my eyes at the man who’s now giving me a tight smile.

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby. Addie needs to get home and sleep in his own bed.”

Adrian’s smile falters, “Please, Mommy. He has a big pool.”

Big pool, my ass.

“Mr. Cross, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Deacon pulls his chair aside, mumbling something I can’t quite hear to the boys before he turns to face me, eating the distance between us in seconds.

My boys give me their puppy dog eyes, and it’s adorable, but it’s not enough to make me let them stay at Deacon’s house today.

“We are back to “Mr. Cross,” baby? Not Deacon?”

“I appreciate your support, Mr. Cross. Really, I do. But I think I can handle myself and my boys from here.”

I know he’s seen them, and despite what I’ve told him, he’s not going to back down from wanting to prove he’s the father. For that reason alone, I have to get away from Deacon as soon as I can.

“Adrian needs rest, and my mansion’s closer,” Deacon replies.

He might be right, but I’m not prepared to back down from my decision. “Is that the reason why you told them you have a pool? To use them against me?”

To take them away from me?

“Fuck, Winter. I’m offering you guys a place to stay for just one night. Nothing more, baby. A lot’s happened tonight, and the last thing I want is to fight, so let me help. You and the boys can come stay with me tonight.”

Telling Deacon “no” to his offer is easy enough, considering it only took a few minutes getting stuck in the elevator with him for me to give in to him enough to let him fuck me. No matter how much I dislike him, staying at his house would make it hard to resist him.

I remain assertive with my decision, but when Adrian looks at me, his eyes on the verge of spewing tears, I falter in my decision.

“Mommy, I’m scared of going back to the house.”

Asher, who has the same well of unshed tears in his eyes, nods at his brother’s words.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you back home, babies. Mommy will protect you. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

I know I’m losing the battle when Adrian sobs, whispering, “Please don’t make me go there. I’m scared of falling sick and listening to Mommy scream for me to wake up.”

He heard me screaming his name?

I can’t say no to Deacon's offer right now. I know I can’t.

Going home would be traumatizing for my babies, so I say yes to Deacon’s offer, albeit begrudgingly.