Chapter Thirty Seven

Jake.

The doctor clears his throat from the doorway, pulling me out of the storm inside my head. I blink up at him, realizing I must look like hell, hair a mess from dragging my hands through it, shoulders tense, eyes wild.

“Mr. Jake?” he says carefully, like he is afraid I might bite.

I straighten, clearing my throat, trying to pull myself together. “Yeah.”

He gestures toward his office down the hall. “Could I have a word with you? Privately.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. Every time a doctor says privately, it feels like a bad omen. I push off the wall and follow him, my footsteps heavy against the sterile tile floor.

Inside his office, it smells like disinfectant and coffee gone cold. He motions for me to sit, and I drop into the chair across from his desk, bracing myself.

“First of all,” he begins, folding his hands on the desk, “I want to assure you that Kyla’s condition is improving. The concussion was severe, but she is out of immediate danger. Her scans look really good, and her vitals are stable.”

Relief sweeps through me, loosening the grip on my chest. “Thank God,” I mutter under my breath.

He nods. “That said, she is still very weak. Walking is a struggle right now, and she will need assistance with basic tasks for the next couple of weeks at least.”

I frown, my protective instincts sparking. “Assistance as in, what exactly?”

He leans back in his chair. “She will need someone to help her get around, prepare her meals, monitor her symptoms. We can’t, in good conscience, send her home to live alone. Not in this state.”

I sit up straighter. “So, what are you saying?”

He exhales. “I checked her records. She doesn’t appear to have any immediate family available to take her in. But legally, she still has someone.”

It takes me a second to understand where he’s going. Then it hits me.

“Me,” I say flatly. "i am her husband still." 

“Correct. As her husband, you are the default contact for her discharge. The responsibility would fall to you, unless there is an objection or legal arrangement otherwise she can continue staying here until she is fully okay to be on her own.”

Husband.

The word echoes in my chest, stirring something raw. I haven’t thought of myself that way in so long, but hearing it out loud now, it’s like a switch flipping. A reminder. No matter the years, no matter the secrets, no matter the anger swirling inside me on paper, and maybe somewhere deeper than that I’m still hers.

The doctor watches me carefully. “Of course, if you are unwilling, we can look into arranging a rehabilitation facility, but ”

“I’ll do it.” I say almost immediately. 

The words come out sharp, immediate. Too immediate. But I don’t back down.

“I’ll take her, I will take care of her,” I repeat, softer this time. “She won’t be alone.” I can't let the kids be alone without their mother. 

The doctor studies me for a moment, then nods. “Very well. We will prepare her discharge papers and instructions for home care. She can leave tomorrow morning.”

Tomorrow. My head spins.

I stand up, thanking him automatically, though my mind is already racing ahead.

Walking back down the hallway feels surreal. Just minutes ago, I was drowning in questions I didn’t know how to ask. Now I have agreed to take her and the kids under my roof.

When I push open the door to her room, the scene hasn’t changed much. Chanel is curled against her side, showing her a drawing on a notepad Mara must have brought. Elias is perched at the foot of the bed, frowning in concentration as he tries to build something out of plastic blocks. Kyla looks tired but more alive than I’ve seen her in days, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she strokes her daughter’s hair.

The sight hits me like a punch to the chest.

Family. They look like a family. My family. The family in always wanted, the family we always talked about. 

I clear my throat, and all three heads snap toward me. Elias’s eyes, my eyes stare straight into mine, and I nearly stumble over my own feet.

“I, uh” My voice comes out rough. I steady it. “Just spoke to the doctor.”

Kyla tenses, sitting a little straighter, worry flashing across her face. “What did he say? Am I okay?”

“You are being discharged tomorrow,” I cut in quickly. “You are stable, but, you are not in any condition to be on your own.”

Her brows pinch. “I will manage. I always do.”

God, that stubborn streak. It’s exactly as I remember.

“You won’t manage this time,” I tell her firmly. “The doctor was clear. You can’t walk without help, you can’t be lifting things, you need someone with you around the clock.”

Her eyes flick toward Mara, then back to me. I can see the protest building in her throat, but I shut it down before it comes out.

“They wanted to know who you would be released to.” I pause, letting the weight of my next words hang in the air. “Legally, that is still me.”

Her lips part, her breath catching. For a moment, she just stares at me like she’s not sure she heard right.

“Jake” she whispers.

“I told them I would take you,” I continue, keeping my tone even, controlled. “And I meant it. You are not going back to an empty house.”

The silence stretches. Chanel tilts her head curiously. Elias looks between us with a frown, sensing the tension but not understanding it.

I take a step closer, my decision crystallizing in my chest.

“You are coming home with me,” I tell her quietly but firmly. “To the country house. You and the kids.”

Her eyes widen, a storm of emotions flashing across them shock, confusion, fear, maybe even a flicker of relief.

But I don’t give her room to argue. Not now.

I’ve already made up my mind.