As quietly as I could, I wheeled the smal bed from the room and flipped off the one light that had shed the faint glow. Blackness fel over the room. I reluctantly pushed my son down the hal way to leave him for the night. The movement jarred him awake, his deep, dark eyes ful y opening to me for the very first time. I gazed down at him, overcome with a sense of belonging; positive he could feel it too. By the time we got to the nursery, he was fussing and trying to stuff his fist in his mouth, attesting to his hunger again. I gladly accepted the nurse’s offer to feed him in a rocker sitting in the nursery.
I rocked him and kissed his forehead while he drank. I relished the feel of his tiny, warm body in my arms, cherishing this child who had brought this part of my soul back to life.
I remembered those long forgotten dreams of a family, how important they had been, and now this baby boy had made them a reality.
My only worry was for Melanie. She would always have my heart, but now she had to share it. It in no way diminished my love for her; I loved him in a whole new capacity that I didn’t even realize existed. Al the same, he had become just as important to me as Melanie was. I knew it would be difficult for her, and it broke my heart that something so precious to me was going to cause her pain.
I just prayed that in time Melanie would heal enough to forge a relationship with him. There were so many women who adored their stepchildren, and I prayed Melanie would be one of them. I knew she’d want to care for him and would try. I wasn’t blind enough, though, to believe there weren’t going to be huge obstacles in her path.
I looked down at my son, so beautiful, pure, and innocent, and was unable to imagine a world in which Melanie would not fal completely in love with him. It might take time, but I would be patient.
I kissed my child and whispered, “Goodnight, Andrew Daniel,” against his head, proud to give my son my grandfather’s name.
“Daniel?”
I sat up, provoking a stabbing pain from the depths of my head. The splitting headache forced me to squint against the glaring, bright lights of the hospital room.
It made me almost regret forgoing the shot of morphine for the ibuprofen the nurse had administered at about five this morning. Daniel was here then, trying to sleep in the chair beside my bed when the nurse came in, checked my vitals, and asked how I felt.
I had been so tired of feeling drugged and suffocated by the cloud around my mind that I was wil ing to take the pain over the haze that blurred every thought. Now, through scrunched eyes, I scanned the empty room, already aware that I was alone. Stil , I felt safe.
It was over. Yesterday had been a nightmare.
Being in that house with Nicholas had been terrifying. I should have left that night three months ago when he’d first struck me. Instead of walking downstairs and into the guest room, I should have walked straight out the front door. It’s amazing what I’d deluded myself into believing because I was scared. It was a fear that had nearly cost me my life.
Even here, alone in my room, I could feel Daniel.
His presence was near. I took comfort in it, though I real y wanted him beside me. With my mind clear, I wanted to look at him and celebrate that we’d made it, that we were free. His presence grew stronger, and I sat up in anticipation, propping myself up on one arm, waiting for him.
I was met with the most glorious smile I’d ever seen upon Daniel’s face. Total joy seemed to spring forth and flow before him into the room. He should have been tired from spending the night in the chair beside me; instead, he seemed invigorated, his whole spirit revitalized.
He halted mid-stride when he entered the room, seeing I had already awakened. Hazel eyes devoured me from across the room, washing me in complete adoration, pul ing me to their depths. I felt drawn further into them than I’d ever been before, as if the recesses had expanded and his spirit had been amplified.
“Hey,” he cal ed, his voice muted. “You’re awake.
How are you feeling?” He crossed the room to my side, drawing the chair up so he could sit next to me.
“My head hurts.” The pain flared as attention was drawn to it. “But other than that, I think I feel fine.” I turned on my side to face him, and he gathered my hands in both of his, brushing his lips across each knuckle. He leaned in closer, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss against my mouth. He was careful, acutely aware of each of my injuries, managing stil to cover every exposed inch of my skin with his praise.
His mouth was at my ear, giving it his ful consideration. My body trembled when he whispered into the sensitive skin, “I love you.” He sat back to take in my face. His expression was intense, ful of devotion and love but shrouded in compassion and a tinge of apprehension.
“Baby, I need to talk to you.” My first instinct was to be concerned, but the light in his eyes held a promise, so instead, I watched him with curiosity.
He ran the pad of his thumb over my cheek and moved his hand to rest on my neck. His expression was somber, but his eyes conveyed no real sadness.
I narrowed my eyes at him, unable to make sense of the conflicting signals he was sending. “Daniel—” He shook his head, cutting me off.
“Melanie.” His eyes flitted over my face. He chose his words careful y, each one impassioned as it passed through his lips. “My son was born on Saturday.” His announcement echoed through the room and crashed against my ears. His mouth claimed, “My son,” while his spirit cried, “I adore him.”
I desperately tried to hide it, to conceal the al -
consuming ache his news brought me. I wanted to shield from this man the hurt that invaded every fiber of my body. I wanted to protect him from the envy that flowed through me, infecting my heart, my mind, and my very soul. I struggled to pretend I did not covet what I could not have, but I couldn’t stop the tears from fal ing. I turned away to spare him my reaction, one I had tried in vain to contain, ashamed of the jealously ravaging me.
How did I become such a terrible person? Daniel had been given a gift, this child, and he felt a deep love for him that was unmistakable, a love he never believed would be possible for him to feel. I should have rejoiced, but I couldn’t. It just hurt too much.
I felt as if a barrier had been erected, cutting me off from a part of him that I could not share. The void in my life had never been more pronounced.
My tears fel harder when he stood hovering above me, encircling me in his arms from behind while I buried my head in the pil ow. “Baby, it’s okay to cry.” His arm wrapped around to the front of my chest, pul ing me closer to him. “I know it hurts...just...let it out.” His tender encouragement touched me, and I gave into it, weeping loudly into the pil ow, deep, ragged sobs born of years of insecurity and loss and want and need. And with this agonizing jealously, it al released simultaneously in a torrent of raw emotions.
Daniel’s soft words were there as he let me mourn. He rocked me and whispered comfort. “I wil always love you. I’l never let you go. You wil always mean everything to me. There is nothing that could change the way I feel about you.” His heart was in sync with my fears, mol ifying each one as I expel ed it from my body.
When he felt me calm, he leaned in closer to my face. His cheek rested against mine as he almost painful y gripped me to him. “I promise we wil make this work.” Shuddering, I took in a deep breath, resolving that I
would
do whatever it took, knowing that promise depended more on me than anything else. I would take this burden and the sorrow it would bring. I nodded as I wiped my nose and the last of my own self-pity into the sleeve of my hospital gown, turning to face the one man I would do anything for. Mesmerizing pools of understanding waited, fil ed with undying devotion when they latched onto me. “I love you, Melanie.”
I swal owed, wetting my dry mouth and lips, reaching out to stroke the day-old stubble on his face. “I love you, too.” Gathering al my strength, I pushed forward and took the next step. My voice shook. “Tel me about him.”
Daniel’s expression turned reverent, ful of wonder and awe as if he could not quite comprehend the way he felt. “He’s...amazing, Melanie.” He scooted his chair closer, taking each of my hands back in his. “His name is Andrew...Andrew Daniel.”
Daniel’s pride in his son was so obvious as he said his baby’s name—his grandfather’s name. I wanted so badly to share in this joy with him, but I couldn’t find it within me and was more than grateful when movement from the door distracted us. Patrick cleared his throat, and a sympathetic smile graced his features as he looked at me. I smiled back and nodded, silently welcoming him. He opened the door wide, al owing Julia to step in before him, grasping her hand as they crossed the room together.
“How are you today?” His eyes appraised me as he took a seat on the edge of the bed opposite Daniel.
“Better, thank you.”
Julia squeezed in beside Daniel, her bottom lip trembling as she tried not to cry. She embraced me the way only a mother would her own child. “Sweetheart, I was so scared. Are you okay?”
I nodded into her shoulder, my chest tightening as her affection washed over me. There were days when I stil couldn’t believe I had found this family again. Julia pul ed back and cupped my cheek, her expression kind and understanding, seeing the sadness in my eyes for what it real y was.
She glanced warily at Daniel and wrapped me in her arms, murmuring against my ear as she ran her fingers lovingly through my mass of tangled hair. “You are strong, Melanie, and you wil make it through this. I have faith in you, just like I did in Daniel.”
I acknowledged her by tightening my hold, praying with everything in me she was right.
Julia and Patrick stayed only a few minutes, as Daniel’s attorney had shown up and was waiting outside my door to begin the paperwork needed to put an end to my marriage.
“Are you up for this?” Daniel looked at me, concerned.
I nodded too rapidly, causing me wince against the throb in my head. “The sooner we get this over with the better.” His smile was warm as he stood, kissing me in agreement. He stepped out and returned only seconds later with his lawyer in tow. He was much younger than I would have expected, probably not much older than Daniel. He had stark black hair and striking green eyes, and his manner was brash, no-nonsense, and al business. He extended his hand formal y, introducing himself as Wil iam Bailey before grabbing a chair against the wal and getting straight to work.
Where his personality lacked, he made up for in knowledge and clear competence. He took me through the forms and answered every question I had without the slightest hesitation.
He explained that Nicholas had been arrested the night before when he was discharged from the ER, only to be released on bail early this morning. He brusquely informed me I had no need to worry as I had already been granted the restraining order requested through his office.
He left with a promise that he foresaw no problems and expected this to be resolved quickly, especial y in light of the domestic violence charges and that I was asking for none of Nicholas’s assets.
Daniel rose and shook Wil iam’s hand, thanking him while Wil iam told him he would be in touch by the beginning of the week with an update. He rushed from the room without looking back.
Daniel shrugged as he explained away his
attorney’s abruptness, “He’s the best.” We both laughed, releasing some of the pent up stress from the whirlwind meeting and the emotions of the past two days, both relieved in knowing that my legal bond to Nicholas would soon be broken.
During breakfast, Daniel stayed at my side. I could tel by his restlessness that he was antsy, torn between being here with me and with Andrew upstairs.
It was there again, the barrier, the wal that created a division between us, the wal that was there because his heart was now hopelessly divided. I knew the right thing to do would be tel him to go, but I found myself too selfish to speak the words.
There was a light tapping on the door. Erin peeked in, wielding an overnight bag fil ed with clothes and everything I would need to take a shower. “Brought you something.” She was a lifesaver. Nothing would feel better than washing this grime away. While the nurses had done the best they could with a sponge bath, it had done nothing to erase how dirty I felt from my ordeal of the day before.
Erin stepped in, looking relieved when she took in my appearance. “Oh, you look so much better today!” I looked at her, confused, having no recol ection of her visiting.
She laughed and walked across the room, waving her hand as if to tel me not to worry about it. “I stopped by last night, but you were completely out.” She swept in to give Daniel a quick hug before going to the other side of the bed. She sat by my side, curling one leg under her and facing me. She swept a lock of hair from my face so she could study me, reaching down to take my hand and rest it in her lap. “How are you real y feeling?” she asked seriously, forever straightforward.
Even after al these years, I’d never dream of lying to Erin. Even though so much time had passed, she could stil see straight through me. Our bond was stil there, and she knew me just as wel as she had nine years ago. I stil knew her, too, and it was clear she wasn’t asking about my physical condition. I grimaced and shrugged.