Chapter Thirteen — Owen Three Months Later
1637 Words
Three months.
It had been three months since my entire world had almost ended in a hospital hallway.
Three months since I had stood outside an operating room, convinced that I was going to lose my son.
Three months since a stranger had walked up to me, looked at me while I was completely broken, and promised to save Theo.
And somehow, three months later, I was sitting beside my son in a hospital room, watching his heart beat normally on a monitor.
I still couldn’t believe it.
Theo was alive.
He was getting stronger.
He was laughing again.
He was eating better.
He was complaining about being bored.
And honestly, I had never been happier to hear a child complain in my entire life.
I watched him as the ECG machine recorded his heartbeat.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Theo looked at me.
“Daddy, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He rolled his eyes.
I smiled.
He was getting his attitude back.
That had to be a good sign.
Dr. Avery walked into the room and began examining him.
He checked his heart.
His breathing.
His incision.
His medications.
Everything.
I watched every movement carefully.
I still couldn’t stop worrying.
That was what happened when you nearly lost someone.
Every cough became frightening.
Every tired moment became terrifying.
Every little change made me wonder if something was wrong.
Finally, Dr. Avery smiled.
“Well, Theo is doing remarkably well.”
I exhaled.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He looked at Theo.
“Your heart is functioning at full capacity.”
Theo smiled proudly.
“See, Daddy?”
I laughed.
“Yes. I see.”
Dr. Avery continued.
“He can slowly return to a more normal routine. He can attend school when the time comes. He can play, within reasonable limits, and gradually become more active.”
I nodded quickly.
“But the medications remain extremely important.”
“I know.”
“The immunosuppressants cannot be skipped.”
“I won’t skip them.”
“Good. And if he experiences unusual fatigue, weakness, difficulty breathing, chest discomfort, fever, swelling, changes in his skin or eyes, or anything that concerns you, bring him back immediately.”
“I will.”
Dr. Avery smiled.
“Otherwise, he’s doing very well.”
I looked at my son.
My eyes burned.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He nodded.
“You’ve done a good job taking care of him, Owen.”
I looked down.
“I just did what I had to do.”
“No,” he said gently. “You did what a father does.”
A father.
That word still meant everything to me.
I looked at Theo.
My boy.
My reason.
My entire world.
⸻
We left the hospital shortly afterward.
I drove one of William’s cars.
I still found it strange that I could simply take one of his cars whenever I needed it.
William had told me not to worry about it.
“Use whichever one you need.”
Those had been his exact words.
I still wasn’t used to that kind of generosity.
Before going home, I stopped at the pharmacy and collected Theo’s medications.
I checked everything twice.
Then we drove home.
The moment we arrived, Theo practically jumped out of the car.
“Slowly!”
“I’m fine, Daddy!”
“You’re supposed to be careful.”
“I’m careful!”
I laughed.
“Okay, superhero.”
He smiled.
I watched him walk toward the house.
My heart felt full.
For the first time in months, I wasn’t afraid.
Not completely, anyway.
⸻
I did something that evening that I had never done before.
I called William.
Usually, he called me.
Every day.
Sometimes once.
Sometimes several times.
“How’s Theo?
Did he take his medication?
Did he eat?
How are you?
Did you eat?
And every afternoon, I would usually receive a message thanking me for his lunch.
But I had never been the one to call him.
Until that day.
He answered almost immediately.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
There was a brief pause.
“Owen?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong?”
I smiled.
“Nothing is wrong.”
I could hear the relief in his voice.
“How did the appointment go?”
I told him everything.
I explained what Dr. Avery had said.
I told him Theo’s heart was functioning properly.
I told him he could slowly return to normal activities.
I told him about the medications.
William listened to everything.
When I finished, he simply said,
“Good.”
His voice sounded relieved.
“That’s good news.”
“It is.”
“How is Theo?”
“He’s happy.”
“Good.”
There was a pause.
“Thank you for calling me.”
I didn’t know why those words made my chest tighten.
“You’re welcome.”
We ended the call shortly afterward.
But I stared at my phone for a long time.
I had called my husband.
It felt strange.
But strangely…
It also felt right.
⸻
That evening, dinner was happier than usual.
Theo wouldn’t stop talking about school.
“Daddy, am I really going to school soon?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
Before I could answer, William spoke.
“I enrolled you in one.”
Theo looked at him.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
William nodded.
“It’s a private school near the house.”
Theo’s eyes widened.
“Does it have a big playground?”
“I believe so.”
“Do they have football?”
“Probably.”
“Can I play?”
“Eventually.”
Theo looked at me.
“Daddy!”
I laughed.
“Don’t look at me. He’s the boss tonight.”
Theo laughed.
William continued eating as if he hadn’t just made a seven-year-old’s entire evening.
Then he looked at me.
“You’ll need to take him for an interview.”
“An interview?”
“The school year begins soon. I’ve already scheduled it.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
“You’ll need to get supplies too.”
“I can do that.”
“I’ll send you the list.”
“Thank you.”
William shrugged.
“It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing to me.
Nothing about what he had done for us was nothing.
⸻
After dinner, I took Theo upstairs.
I helped him with his medication and got him ready for bed.
He was asleep within minutes.
I stood beside his bed for a while.
Watching him breathe.
Watching his chest rise and fall.
I still remembered the hospital.
The tubes.
The machines.
The fear.
Now he was sleeping peacefully.
Alive.
I quietly closed his door.
Then I walked toward William’s office.
I knocked.
“Come in.”
I opened the door.
William was working.
Papers were spread across his desk.
His laptop was open.
He looked up.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
I stepped inside.
“I wanted to thank you.”
He leaned back.
“For what?”
“The school.”
“Owen—”
“And everything else.”
He looked at me.
“I mean it.”
I swallowed.
“You promised you would take care of Theo.”
“And you did.”
“You’ve done more than that.”
He was silent.
“You’ve taken care of us.”
His expression softened slightly.
“I told you I would.”
“I know.”
I smiled.
“I’m just grateful.”
He looked away.
“It’s nothing.”
I shook my head.
“It isn’t nothing to me.”
He didn’t respond.
I stood there awkwardly.
Then I asked,
“Are you working late?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
I turned to leave.
Then I stopped.
“I’ll make you coffee.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
I walked out anyway.
⸻
A few minutes later, I returned with coffee.
I placed the cup on his desk.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I smiled.
“I’ll get out of your hair.”
For the first time that evening, William smiled.
“Okay.”
I left.
As I walked back toward our room, I realized something.
I had spent three months trying to figure out how I could repay William.
Money wasn’t possible.
I didn’t have anything valuable enough.
So I cooked.
I packed his lunches.
I made his coffee.
I asked how his day was.
I waited for him to come home.
They were small things.
Tiny things compared to the life he had given us.
But they were the only things I knew how to give.
I reached our bedroom.
Before going to bed, I looked down at my wedding ring.
Three months ago, I had been a desperate man willing to give away his future to save his son.
Now…
I wasn’t sure what I was giving anymore.
Because somewhere between the hospital, the breakfasts, the packed lunches, the late-night conversations, and the quiet moments in this house…
William had stopped feeling like a stranger.
Not completely.
But enough.
I looked toward the hallway leading to Theo’s room.
My son was alive.
He was healthy.
He had a future.
And for the first time in seven years, I wasn’t carrying everything alone.
I whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude.
Then I climbed into bed.
Tomorrow, there would be school forms.
Medication schedules.
A hospital follow-up.
Breakfast to prepare.
Lunch to pack.
A husband to understand.
A life to figure out.
But tonight, I allowed myself to simply breathe.
Because Theo was alive.
And that was enough.
For now, that was everything.
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