Oh, right. The man who was going to have to watch the woman he cared about crumble if and when she realized she couldn’t.

Indecision warred inside me, spiking my pulse and sending a flurry of memories racing through my mind.

“I need it to stop, Porter.”

“Daddy, he can’t breathe.”

“Every single one of them. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. They’re all him.”

“Who’s going to take care of me now?”

“I don’t know how to let go of him.”

But, at the end of the day, there was only one choice.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Okay. I’ll let Dr. Mills know. Have a great day, Mr.—”

“Wait!” I shouted, causing the kids to snap their attention to me. Their brown eyes bored into me as I sucked in a ragged breath. “We’ll be there.”

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My heart was in my throat as I walked up to the front door of her office with Hannah on my hip, her shoes still on the wrong feet, and Travis hot on my heels, his palm wrapped in mine.

I’d texted Charlotte seventeen times since I’d hung up with her nurse who’d called me.

She’d replied exactly zero times.

The strangest mixture of guilt and elation swirled in my chest as I walked to the reception desk.

The sound of her broken voice telling me, “I can’t treat your son, Porter,” played on a continuous loop in my head, creating something of a soundtrack for the visual of Travis sitting on the side of the tub, a nebulizer between his lips, tears dripping from his chin.

I was doing the right thing. I knew it to the core of my soul. But that didn’t mean it didn’t fucking burn like the hottest flames, knowing I was doing it to her.

The same gray-haired receptionist slipped the window open as we approached, her wrinkled glower leveled on me. “Mr. Reese. We meet again.” She rose from her chair, pointedly reached across the desk, and pressed a buzzer. “Come on back. We’ve been expecting you.”

I nodded and swallowed hard. “Look, is there any chance I could see Charlotte for a minute alone before I bring the kids back?”

Rita suddenly appeared in the doorway. Her gaze slipped to Travis then to Hannah before finally meeting mine. “Come on, Porter. Charlotte’s in with a patient.”

“Rita,” I called, shifting Hannah to my other hip and reaching to grab Travis’s hand again. “I need to see her first.”

She gave me her back as she guided us down the familiar hallway.

“Rita,” I hissed. “I need—”

She abruptly stopped, which caused me to bump into her back. Her pretty face was hard as she turned to me, but her eyes were soft. She flashed her gaze to Travis and offered him a genuine smile before pinning me with a glare and whispering, “If you hurt her, I will kill you.”

“I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m trying to—” I whisper-yelled but she shoved the door at her left open and walked inside, leaving it wide for me to follow.

I made it exactly two steps inside before I froze.

Three doctors in white coats all rose from their seats behind the long conference table.

None of them were Charlotte.

One I vaguely recognized as Dr. Laughlin from his picture hanging beside Charlotte’s in the waiting room, but I’d never seen the two older women before.

“You must be Travis,” a thin woman with chin-length salt-and-pepper hair said as she approached, her hand extended toward him, a warm smile pulling at her lips.

Travis peered up at me skeptically before accepting her hand. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m Dr. Gina Whitehall. I came a long way to see you.” She winked then craned her head back to look up at me. “I’m so glad you could make it, Porter.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said absently, confusion ringing in my ears. “Where’s Charlotte?”

“She’s with a patient. But she’s not going to be joining us today,” Dr. Laughlin stated gruffly.

I blinked and scanned the room. “Okay. So, why are we here then?”

“I have to pee,” Hannah whispered in my ear before anyone could answer me.

“I’ll take her,” Rita offered. “I mean…if that’s okay with you? I think I’ve got some crayons in my office. We could hang out until you guys finish up here.”

I cut my gaze to hers and whispered, “What’s going on?”

She smiled tightly. “Just sit down and listen, Porter. And I’ll repeat: If you hurt her, I will kill you.” She clapped her hands together and extended them toward Hannah. “Come on, honey. Let’s go get a snack.”

I did another sweep of the room, more puzzled than ever.

“Go ahead, baby. I’ll be right there,” I said, passing Hannah off to Rita.

When my arm fell to my side, Travis took my hand and pressed into my side. I glanced down and found him staring up at me, anxiety painting his face.

“It’s okay, bud,” I assured even though I had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Travis,” the other, slightly round, woman greeted warmly. “I’m Dr. Erin Hoffman, the head of pediatric pulmonology at Texas Children’s Hospital. You can relax. We’re only here to talk to you today.” Her smile lifted to me. “Have a seat, Porter.”

I couldn’t have moved if the Earth had suddenly caught fire. “I’m sorry. Did you say you’re from Texas Children’s Hospital?”

Dr. Hoffman chuckled. “So you’ve heard of us.”

We lived in Georgia, but I knew all about TCH. When your kid was sick, you made it your job to know who the best doctors were. And, while Charlotte seemed to be Atlanta’s best, TCH was the country’s best. They were the people you sold your soul to get an appointment with.

And here they were. Halfway across the country. To see my son.

The oxygen in the room suddenly disappeared and the ground beneath my feet rumbled.

“How?” I asked, reaching down to balance myself on the back of one of the chairs.

Dr. Whitehall smiled and shrugged. “Charlotte Mills is a good friend and an even better doctor. She asks you to come see a patient, you come see a patient. Who knows when you’ll need her to return the favor.”

And, just like that, the brightest light I had ever seen illuminated the darkness.

* * *

I’d watched through my office window as Porter arrived. I’d felt like a masochist unable to look away as he’d guided his children up the sidewalk toward the door.

His little girl was beautiful. She looked just like her father, but with a darker complexion. The hole in my heart stretched painfully as she lifted her hands in the air, asking for him to pick her up, an offer he accepted without hesitation. He had a certain practiced ease about it as he fluidly lifted her off the ground and planted her on his hip, her silly rain boots brushing his thigh.

And then there was his son. It felt like a knife to the chest as I watched him intently staring up at his father, his pouty lips moving with questions, Porter’s matching set moving with replies. He didn’t have his dad’s strong jaw or broad shoulders; those would surely come with age. He did, however, have his father’s mannerisms, especially the one where he grabbed Porter’s hand as they walked. Travis was pale and thin, his hollow cheeks and sunken eyes worrying me immediately.

But he was there, and so were Dr. Hoffman and Dr. Whitehall.

I’d done all I could do for that little boy.

Letting the curtain fall back into place when they’d moved out of sight, I ambled to my desk, my chest empty and my throat burning. But there was the tiniest seed of hope sprouting in my stomach.

I’d stayed hidden in my office until I’d gotten the all clear message from Rita, letting me know Porter and Travis were in the conference room. And only then did I allow myself to open the thread of texts Porter had sent me that morning.

Porter: You don’t have to do this.

Porter: Charlotte, please talk to me. I can’t bring him up there unless you let me know where your head is at.

Porter: You have to say something or I’m not coming.

Porter: Goddamn it, Charlotte. Answer me.

Porter: I’m on my way. And I’m fucking terrified this is going to break you.




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