Which Man Stays?

A'S

ings in my ears, a high-pitched hum of pure failure. I failed to protect hi

nd. The machine beeps. My new mantra beat

"Good news, Mrs. Thorne! Leo's numbers are improving. Docto

fe raft. I cling t

ould try to get some pro

y I no longer have a visa for. I nod a

ll my boss, my voice a flat, professional recording. "My son is in a coma. I need ind

station. Warm. A little rough. Familiar in

r Maya Thorne.

tu

i

'd driven with the windows down for hours. He's wearing a worn leather jacket over a grey hoo

and what's underneath is a pure, undiluted alarm that seems to

ay

s a solid thing. Like he

is scraped raw.

eo was in the hospital." A muscle in

tist, the freelance photographer who travels too much, who feel

lothes, the hollows under my eyes, the hands that won't stop trem

lders. The weight is immediate, anchoring. It's warm from his body and smells like wind and coffee. "Sit

"Yesterday. Maybe

g. "I stopped on the way. It's just a muffin. And the coffee is terrible, b

tudes. He is presenting me with fuel. It's the most logical, human thing anyone has done fo

I whisper, th

ms crossed. He's giving me space to breathe, but his presence i

tone is neutral, but I hear

rfect. "He brought an audience. Clara and her daught

ll that isn't peaceful. It's coiled.

She's very... suppo

n't quite a laugh. "I bet." He pus

is probably taking a very

h for a second. "Sounds right." He loo

atches it, adjusts it on my shoulders again. The ge

s shoulders, softening into something like grief. He looks at Leo, really loo

u're being so brave." He doesn't touch him, just lets his presence settle in

mine and sits. "Tell me what the doctor

his brow furrowed, asking sharp, practical questions I hadn't even thought to ask. For t

e going to lie down on that awful couch for one hour. I will sit right here. If anything change

m running on vapors. Leo will need me more when he w

ur," he

As I pass him, I start

t looking away from Le

cket against my cheek. It smells like safety. I close my eyes, and for the first time since I walked into my own living roo

sleep so deep it felt like drowning. An hour h

icemail. F

he solid, quiet presence of Liam down the hall, hol

I put the ph

hey. Look, I'm sorry I missed your calls. Clara had a crisis with Lily's scho

, the warmth of Liam's jacket at odds with the

stand up and walk back to my son's room, to