I step closer to the foot of the bed, slightly embarrassed about being in here, gazing at a man I never met.

He leans his head back against the pillow, smiling. “He’s talked about you.”

I feel my eyes take up the majority of my face as I step closer, placing my hand on the footboard. “What?”

He lets out a slow breath before continuing. “I don’t think he knows I’m listening, but I hear… I hear a lot.”

“Not enough though,” I say, my anger consuming me. “I doubt Luke hid his pain from you, if you’re the reason behind it.”

He frowns. “No, he didn’t. But my pain was greater than his.”

“I don’t believe that,” I counter. He lifts his brows in response. “I’m sorry you lost your wife. I can’t imagine what that pain must feel like, but Luke was a kid when his mom died, and the only thing’s he’s told me is that he had to deal with it alone. I’d ask where the hell you were, but I think I know the answer to that.” I reach into my back pocket, pulling out the folded pamphlets I had slid into my nightstand last night. “Maybe I’m way off with this, but I overheard a few things the other day when I was here. There are programs available through this hospital for people like you. Free programs, with support.” His eyes follow the pamphlets as I toss them onto the bed. “Your pain will never be greater than his, because Luke lost everything that day. Not just his mom. He lost the only other person who could understand how he was feeling. I don't feel sorry for you. I don't feel sorry for a man who makes his son go through something like that alone. Be the father he needs and get your shit together."

I’m out the door before he can give me a response, but I don’t need one. Not from him. The only voice I want to hear comes to me in a recording as I hold my phone up to my ear.

“Leave a message.”

I nearly stumble at those three words before I give him my own. “How could you leave me? How could leave us, Luke? You couldn’t even tell me goodbye, and I’m supposed to move on, and forget you, and be okay with this, but I can’t. I won’t let you go. Do you hear me? I’m not letting you go.”

I disconnect the call and step out of the hospital.

***

“Sshooooo. Sshoooo.”

“Nolan, get that airplane off Aunt Tessa’s head.”

Nolan stands on the couch, leaning his body into me as he skims the airplane down my neck and onto my shoulder. I’d normally get annoyed that he keeps getting that thing tangled in my hair, but for the past three days, nothing has gotten a reaction out of me.

Not the asshole that banged his car door against the side of mine, leaving a very noticeable dent.

Not the shit weather we’ve had, the constant slow drizzle that makes it impossible to pick a damn windshield wiper speed.

Not even the looks I’ve been getting from Ben, Mia, Reed, my parents… okay, practically everyone in this entire fucking town. The sympathetic stares. The knowing head tilts, paired with a silent “it’ll all be okay”. I don’t want to hear it from anyone, but I don’t react. I keep my head down and let a four-year-old get airplanes tangled in my hair.

“Hey, what did I say?” Mia asks, coming up to stand in front of the two of us.

Nolan quickly removes his airplane off my shoulder. “But Aunt Tessa said I could pway.” The couch cushion shifts beside me as his little body moves closer. Suddenly, his head pops up in front of mine, big gray eyes filling my vision.

My eyes focus for the first time in an hour, and I glance up at Mia. “I don’t care if he does that. It’s fine.”

“Do you want something to drink? Some tea?” she asks.

I shake my head. I can’t have tea. “No thanks.”

“Uh-oh,” Nolan says, falling back against his cushion. He clutches his airplane to his chest as Mia leans down.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Mia asks, trailing her finger down this nose.

They always do that. The three of them. It was something Ben and Nolan did before Mia came into the picture, and now it’s something they share.

Nolan looks over at me with a deep frown. “Arwe you sad, Aunt Tessa?”

Mia straightens up, quickly turning away from me and heading back to the kitchen. I hear her quiet sniffles as I nod at Nolan. “Yeah, buddy. I’m really sad.”

A tiny line forms between his eyebrows, and I watch him move quickly, scrambling into my lap and wrapping his arms around my neck.

He squeezes me with all his strength, I know it, and I gently hold him against me, wincing as I remove his knee that’s digging into the sensitive spot on my hip.

“I’m supposed to give you hugs when you’wre sad. I forwgot.”

“Who told you to give me hugs?” I ask, closing my eyes as this tiny hug gives me more comfort than I ever thought it could. He smells like the detergent Mia uses. Lavender, and that distinct little boy smell. Like he’s been playing in the dirt all day.

He shifts in my lap, flattening his cheek against my chest. “Uncle Wuke. He told me to give you lots of hugs. Are you still sad?”

I press my lips against the top of his head. “Yeah, buddy. I think I’ll be sad for a while.”

“I think Uncle Wuke is sad too.”

I take in a deep breath, opening my eyes at the sound of something in front of me. Mia sets a mug down on the coffee table and falls back onto the cushion beside me, both hands flattening against her belly.