Family First: A Railers Christmas Novella (Harrisburg Railers Series Book 13) by RJ Scott & V.L. Locey

Author:RJ Scott & V.L. Locey [Scott, RJ & Locey, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781785644696
Publisher: Love Lane Books Ltd
Published: 2023-12-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

ERIK

We sat with Noah for a while longer, but he was tired, it was late, almost ten without us even realizing, and somehow we’d passed an entire day of Noah being here, of Noah being diabetic, of the entirety of his world shifting.

Margo and Eva had left, taking the car back home, but it would take bigger men than us to take us from Noah’s side. I didn’t know what to say to Stan, not when he was fighting his own demons as much as I was.

I should have been there.

I should have noticed.

And the sneaky whisper that slipped into my rational thinking, why hadn’t Stan noticed?

With Noah sleeping, Stan excused himself to find coffee, and this time I wasn’t letting the whispers win. I found him down by the coffee machine, watching as he waited in the dim light of the hospital corridor, his hands white-knuckled on his crutches, his brow furrowed with the weight of self-reproach.

“Stan,” I interrupted his erratic orbit.

He stopped and stared at me; his gray eyes shadowed with pain. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, his eyes brightening with emotion. “He had some flu, I thinked, I was… just flu…” he added as if he was trying to convince himself that maybe the doctors were wrong.

I reached out, placing my hands on his shoulders, grounding him, shoving blame aside, and what-ifs, and trusting he’d understand how much I loved him. Stan could spiral, I’d seen it before, and given I wanted his love and support and one of his big smiles right now, I was guessing he needed the same thing from me.

“Listen to me,” I urged, locking my gaze with his. “You couldn’t have known Noah was sick. None of us did.”

He shook his head, his voice barely a whisper, “But I’m not seeing dad things.” He added a sentence in Russian, and I didn’t know the words, but I felt the meaning in my soul. “I’m dad,” he repeated, and his voice cracked.

“And you’re a great dad,” I assured him with as much conviction as I could muster while my own heart hurt. “We both are, and we’ve done nothing but love and care for Noah. This illness crept up on all of us. And right now, Noah doesn’t need either of us drowning in guilt. He needs us to be a team, as we’ve always been.”

The flickering fluorescent light overhead cast a sterile glow on his face, and he closed his eyes, before tugging me in with one arm. Fuck. I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout and wail at whoever put our beautiful son in the hospital. Where was the fairness in this? He was a good kid.

But he’s alive.

He will live.

It might be hard, but the doctor assured us he’d do okay.

I had to believe him.

Stan held me so tight I couldn’t move, and I buried my face in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” I added. “Did we do something wrong? Did we… did I… what if his birth mom was here? Would she have seen it?” Fuck, I was losing my shit now.

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