Page 43 of Fractured Destiny

Levi is asleep in his big-boy bed with four little stitches above his right eyebrow. One fist is wrapped around a rock from his collection. I watch his chest rise and fall from the doorway.

Grateful he’s finally able to rest.

Lake pulls the blanket up and kisses our son’s forehead above the stitches. Joins me as if we tag-team Levi’s bedtime routine every day.

The man’s been with me all night. Backing me up. Standing by my side. Being a rock for Levi.

No, for both of us.

We sat side by side in the ER. I squeezed his hand until my knuckles went white.

When the doctor came in with a curved needle for his stitches, Levi lost his mind when the numbing gel was applied to his head. Lake was the only person who could comfort him. He wrapped his arms around our son’s shoulders and whispered hey buddy, hey buddy until his screaming turned into hiccupping.

When it was all over, Lake insisted on leaving his car at the hospital to make sure we got home safely. He climbed in the backseat and let Levi hold his finger the whole way here. Then he helped me get Levi ready for bed and read him bedtime stories until he passed out a few minutes ago.

“I should go.” Lake’s deep voice doesn’t sound convinced.

I nod but don’t move. I don’t want him to leave us, but I also don’t expect him to stay.

He waits a second. Then, quietly, “Noa.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

I open my mouth to say yes. The word doesn’t come out. Instead, I push past him and walk to the living room. Sit on the edge of the couch. Put my face in my hands.

Lake closes Levi’s door, the click is almost inaudible. He crosses the room and stands before me. Not too close. Enough.

It’s too much. I can’t help it when I start to cry. Silent, wracking sobs. My shoulders won’t stop moving. At first, Lake doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to comfort me. I’m sure he’s confused as hell.

The panic I held together for six hours in the ER is released now. Coming out sideways. I keep seeing the moment I turned to close the sliding glass door only to find Levi teetering on the coffee table with his little hands outstretched to retrieve his favorite rock from the bookshelf. My scream when he hit the floor was sheer terror, which didn’t help the situation one bit.

I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that the first person I thought to call was Lake.

I didn’t call my mother or my sponsor or 9-1-1. Instinctively, I reached out to Levi’s father, the man who’s becoming the most important part of our world.

A man I’m falling in love with.

In the months he’s been back in my life, I haven’t allowed myself to even consider the possibility.

Somewhere between playdates at Discovery Park, adventures at the Aquarium, ZooTunes at Woodland Park, our weekly beach walks and the numerous therapy sessions, he’s embedded himself into my heart.

Sadly, it can never be. I don’t deserve a man like him who’s so kindhearted, talented, and loving. I lost my chance when I lied about my identity and ghosted him.

“Hey,” Lake says.

I cry harder.

“Hey.” Softer. He steps closer. Waits. Closes the distance until his hand hovers a second above my back and settles there. Warm. Broad. Still. “Breathe, Noa.”

I try. Fail. I can’t catch my breath.

“He’s okay.” Lake’s voice is soothing. “Look at me. He’s okay. Four stitches is nothing. Even the doctor said it’s a rite of passage. He’s fine.”

“I know he’s okay.” I lift my face out of my hands. My eyes burn. My throat’s raw.

“Then why are you crying?”