Page 25 of Rush

“It was him. Everytime.” My words come out laced in disbelief.

She sighs and the background noise fades more. She must have moved to a different room. “I didn’t know what to do the first time you got sick that year. He was picking up Dylan and knew exactly what you needed, but asked me not to say anything. That boy didn’t want any credit.”

“Thank you for telling me now,” I say to her, feeling my eyes swell with tears.

“I hope you feel better soon, Sam. Call me later this week?” she asks, a spark of hopefulness in her tone.

“We’ll call,” I tell her before hanging up.

The tears I held back slide down my cheeks. Waves of grief slam into me; yet, at the same time, I feel both cherished and loved just like I always have when it comes to Jameson. Not for the first time, I wonder if I made a mistake back then. I wish I had trusted myself and him more. Maybe we would have ended up here together, even if I hadn’t thought it was best to give him space. My fingers shake as I type out a quick message, one that is long past overdue.

ME: Thank you for taking care of me always. After dinner this week, can I take you and Dylan to this fun spot I found for us?

In true Jameson fashion, my phone vibrates within a minute of my message.

KANE: I’d like that. Sweet dreams, Sam.

sam

. . .

Three days after being sick, cleaning my apartment from floor to ceiling with bleach, and praying that Dylan doesn’t catch whatever I had, it's another drop-off day. This time, though, I chose the location, a little spot I’ve been meaning to share with Jameson. The second I saw it, I knew Dylan would love it, and I wanted him to be there with us to explore.

I get there first and wait for them to arrive. The second I see my little girl bundled in her pink snow suit and unicorn hat, my heart bursts with joy. Jameson made sure to FaceTime me with her every night she was away, even though it wasn’t the same as having her little voice whispering good night in my ear. Dylan runs over to me, and I scoop her up in a big hug, twirling her around in my arms.

“Dyl, little Pretty Girl,” Jameson says, his tone laced with worry. “What did we talk about? Be careful with Mommy okay.”

Dylan’s eyes widen and her little mittens frame my face. “I sorry! Are you better now?”

It clicks suddenly what she means and my eyes turn soft watching her. “Yes. I feel much better.” She looks so relieved when she lays her head on my shoulder. Jameson leans in and she jumps into his arms next.

“I’ll carry her,” he tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. “Don’t run yourself down.”

My brow rises. “I really am feeling better.”

He nods and shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll still carry her. You need to conserve strength for the gym and practice when you get back into it next week.”

Somehow, he always knows, and as much as I may hate his worrying about me, I also appreciate that he cares. Jameson takes my hand in his and we walk toward the ice sculpture park. The festival runs from now until the New Year. The minute I saw the princess castle and the unicorn, I knew Dylan would love it. The three of us make our way down the path, stopping every once in a while to ooh and aww at the various sculptures. At the unicorn, Jameson discreetly sets Dylan on the back and I snap a quick picture. All three of us are giggling as we walk away. Halfway through the park, there’s a stand with hot chocolate, popcorn and cookies. Of course, Jameson treats us all to a snack. My heart feels full, my cheeks hurt from smiling too much, and I’m so glad I suggested this. I’m lucky that Jameson goes along with it. The three of us together feels natural, and I wish I had more of this. Those old feelings of doubt, the insecurity, and guilt quickly flood my system.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jameson turns to me, and the smile on his lips slowly turns to a frown, his eyes dip with concern, like he can read the turmoil I’m suddenly in. “What's on your mind, Sam?”

Releasing my breath slowly, I finally ask the one question that has kept me up most nights in the last two and a half years. “Do you resent me for altering our lives?” My eyes skim toward Dylan, and I feel Jameson’s body turn rigid.

He steps back, his hands gliding through his dark hair. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

I shake my head, feeling tears start to sting my eyes. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Jameson swears under his breath, his eyes darkening as they sweep over me. “I love Dylan. She’s my life, Sam. I wanted her the minute you told me you were pregnant. How can you even ask me that?”

Geez, I feel small and broken. My heart is breaking for him right now, the strong man in front of me who has done nothing but be the best dad ever. We never really talked about any of it back then. I broke the news to Jameson when I threw up my breakfast for the third time that week. He was starting to get concerned and wanted me to see a doctor. There was no cute announcement or homemade present that I gave him. I blurted it out before school, and by the end of the day, everything changed.

Walking to Jameson’s house tonight feels like walking toward a cliff. After my word vomit this morning, he was like a ghost all day. He even went home right after lunch and skipped the rest of the day. Sure, he asked Luca to bring me home, but it wasn’t the same. He’s avoiding me and I’m worried I destroyed our relationship. I’m scared to death he’ll never want anything to do with me. I’m even more terrified that he won’t want this baby that I’m already in love with.

My hand shakes when I reach up to knock on his door. My knuckles wrap once before Mr. Kane opens the door. His eyes widen a fraction when he sees me before dropping his gaze. Gone is the boisterous smile and greeting I usually get, so I can only guess his son told him the news. My heart sinks thinking this man I have grown to admire is mad or even disappointed in me.

“Jameson’s down in his room.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Ah, but I guess you already know the way.”