Chapter 7 - Caleb And Emma
The next morning, I made toast.
Sophie took one bite.
“Terrible.”
“It’s bread.”
“You managed to overcook bread.”
“I’ve coordinated air support under hostile conditions.”
“And yet breakfast defeated you.”
For five minutes, we almost felt normal.
Then I asked.
“Who was Emma?”
The smile disappeared.
Sophie put down the toast.
“You heard me.”
“Last night.”
Her fingers tightened around the mug.
“I named the first baby.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
I had no answer.
She looked away.
“I found out from the pathology report that the pregnancy had likely been a girl.”
I swallowed.
“Emma Parker.”
Sophie nodded.
“I used to say her name when you were deployed.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid if nobody said it, she would disappear.”
My eyes burned.
“She existed.”
“Not to anyone else.”
“To me.”
Sophie looked at me.
“Then say her name.”
I struggled for breath.
“Emma.”
Her face crumpled.
I said it again.
“Emma.”
Then the second.
“Caleb.”
Sophie covered her mouth.
I moved toward her.
She didn’t stop me.
I wrapped my arms around her.
For the first time since finding her in the hospital hallway, she held me back.
We cried for children who never came home.
Children whose rooms were painted and repainted.
Children whose names had been hidden because saying them hurt too much.
Afterward, Sophie slept.
I walked into the kitchen.
Her phone vibrated on the counter.
I wasn’t going to look.
Then I saw the preview.
ST. VINCENT ONCOLOGY.
PET SCAN MOVED TO TOMORROW, 7:00 A.M.
My stomach tightened.
When Sophie woke, I told her.
“I’m taking you.”
“You have work.”
“I took emergency leave.”
Her expression hardened immediately.
“You did what?”
“Lawson approved it.”
“For how long?”
“Two weeks.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t ask you to rearrange your life.”
“I’m not rearranging it.”
She stood.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Choosing where I need to be.”
She stared at me.
“That sounds beautiful.”
“It isn’t supposed to.”
“Ethan, I can’t survive cancer and also become the reason you resent your career.”
“I won’t resent you.”
“You resented our grief.”
That stopped me.
Sophie stepped closer.
“You loved me then too.”
Her eyes were wet.
“So forgive me if love isn’t enough evidence anymore.”
The next morning, we drove to the hospital in silence.
The scan lasted forty minutes.
Dr. Patel asked us to wait.
Then forty minutes became two hours.
Finally, his nurse appeared.
“Dr. Patel wants both of you in his office.”
Sophie looked at me.
I reached for her hand.
May you like
This time she took it.
And neither of us let go.
