Chapter 8: Borrowed Time
The next day, I brought Miles. He stood beside the hospital bed clutching his stuffed fox, unsure of this thin version of his father.
Luke smiled gently. “Hey, buddy.”
Miles climbed into the chair beside him and said Nana told him hospitals were for getting fixed. Luke looked at me over our son’s head with so much sorrow I had to look away.
“Sometimes,” he told Miles softly, “they help people feel better, even when they can’t fix everything.”
For the next few weeks, we lived inside borrowed time. I brought soup Luke barely ate. Miles brought drawings. Patricia brought cardigans and quiet apologies. And I brought forgiveness slowly, not as a gift, but as work. Three days after Luke whispered that we were all he ever wanted, he died with Patricia on one side and me on the other… Continue Reading ⬇️
