Broken Heart

[ALESSIA'S POV]

FIVE YEARS LATER:

"Mommy, can I have pancakes?"

Davison stands in the kitchen doorway wearing his Batman pajamas and the biggest smile I've ever seen.

"Pancakes again? That's three days in a row."

"Please?" He puts his hands together like he's praying. "With chocolate chips?"

I laugh and pull him into a hug. "Fine. But you have to eat some fruit too."

"Deal!"

Jeffrey walks in, already dressed for work. He kisses the top of my head and ruffles Davison's hair.

"Morning, buddy. Ready for school?"

"Yeah! We're learning about dinosaurs today!"

"That's awesome." Jeffrey pours himself coffee. "Which one's your favorite?"

"T-Rex. Obviously."

They start talking about dinosaurs while I make pancakes. This is my favorite part of the day. The three of us in the kitchen. No drama. No pain. Just a normal morning with a sweet and happy family.

We got married two years ago. Small ceremony. Just family and a few friends. Davison was the ring bearer. He took it so seriously, walking down the aisle with the rings on a little pillow.

Jeffrey adopted him six months later. Legally, officially. Davison calls him Dad now. Has for over a year.

Edward tried to fight it at first. Sent lawyers. Made threats. But he never showed up. Never called. Never tried to be a father.

So the judge approved it.

Davison is ours.

"Mom?" Davison tugs on my sleeve. "You okay?"

I realize I've been staring at the stove.

"Yeah, baby. I'm fine." I flip the pancakes. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how lucky I am."

He grins. "Lucky to have me?"

"The luckiest."

Jeffrey checks his watch. "I need to head out. Client meeting at nine." He kisses me again. "Call me if you need anything."

"We'll be fine."

He kneels down to Davison's level. "Be good at school, okay?"

"I'm always good."

"That's debatable." Jeffrey tickles him until he squeals. "Love you, buddy."

"Love you too, Dad."

He leaves.

I finish the pancakes and sit with Davison while he eats.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I really adopted?"

The question catches me off guard. "Who told you that?"

"A kid at school. He said I don't look like Dad."

I choose my words carefully. "Jeffrey adopted you because he loves you. But yes, technically, you're adopted."

"What about my real dad?"

My chest tightens. "Your biological father... he's not in our lives anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because he made some choices that hurt us. And we had to leave."

Davison thinks about this for a moment. "Do I have his name?"

"No. You have my name. Reed."

"Good." He takes another bite of pancake. "I like our family the way it is."

"Me too, baby."

He finishes breakfast and runs upstairs to get dressed.

I clean up the kitchen and try not to think about Edward. Try not to wonder if he ever thinks about us. If he regrets what he did.

Probably not.

Men like him don't regret their actions. They just move on.

The school calls at 1:47 PM.

I'm at the station, editing a segment about city council elections, when my phone rings.

"Mrs. Walker? This is Principal Chen from Riverside Elementary."

My stomach drops. They never call unless something's wrong.

"Is Davison okay?"

"He... he collapsed during recess. We've called an ambulance."

"What do you mean collapsed?"

"He was playing with his friends, and then he just fell. There was blood. From his nose and mouth."

I'm already grabbing my purse. "Which hospital?"

"St. Mary's. The ambulance just left."

I don't remember hanging up. Don't remember running to my car. Don't remember the drive.

All I know is I'm suddenly in the emergency room, and a nurse is leading me to a small room where Davison is lying on a bed.

He looks so small.

His face is pale. There's dried blood under his nose.

"Baby?" I rushed to his side. "Baby, I'm here."

His eyes open. "Mom?"

"I'm right here. What happened?"

"I don't know. I was playing tag, and then everything got dizzy."

A doctor walks in. Older,  Glasses with a serious face.

"Mrs. Walker?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Martinez. Davison's stable now, but we need to run some tests."

"What kind of tests?"

"Blood Test and maybe a CT scan. The bleeding could be from stress, but we want to rule out anything serious."

"Stress? He's five years old. What stress?"

"Children experience stress differently than adults. School pressure, changes at home, even excitement can trigger physical symptoms."

I look at Davison. He's staring at the ceiling, quiet.

"Can I stay with him?"

"Of course."

Dr. Martinez leaves.

I climb onto the bed and pull Davison close.

"You scared me," I whisper.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me if you're feeling bad, okay? Always tell me."

"Okay."

Jeffrey arrives twenty minutes later. His tie is loose. His hair is messy.

"Is he okay?"

"They think it's stress."

He sits on the other side of the bed. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"That's okay. You can rest."

They keep us for three hours. Run tests. Ask questions. Eventually, Dr. Martinez comes back.

"Everything looks normal. His blood pressure is a little high, but that could be from the excitement. I think he just needs rest."

"That's it?" I ask.

"That's it. Keep an eye on him. If it happens again, bring him back immediately."

We took him home.

He falls asleep in the car.

Jeffrey carries him upstairs and tucks him into bed.

We stand in the doorway, watching him breathe.

"He's okay," Jeffrey says.

"Yeah."

But I don't believe it.

Something feels wrong.

ONE MONTH LATER:

It happens again.

We're at the park. Davison is on the swings. laughing and  happy.

Then he stops.

He climbs off the swing and sits on the ground.

"Davison?" I called.

He doesn't answer.

I ran over.

His nose is bleeding again. Worse this time. It's running down his chin, onto his shirt.

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes are unfocused. Distant.

"Jeffrey!" I scream.

He's beside me in seconds.

"Call 911."

He already has his phone out.

Davison starts coughing. Blood comes up.

"No. No no no." I hold him against me. "Stay with me. Please stay with me baby."

The ambulance arrives.

They load him onto a stretcher.

This time, they don't tell us it's stress.

This time, they take him straight to intensive care.

Dr. Martinez meets us in the hallway. His face is different now. Worried.

"We need to run more tests. Extensive tests."

"What kind of tests?" Jeffrey asks.

"Blood tests. Bone marrow biopsy and Imaging."

I grab his arm. "Why? What do you think it is?"

He doesn't answer right away.

And that's when I know.

That's when I know our lives are about to fall apart again.

"Mrs. Walker, I need you to prepare yourself. The symptoms Davison is showing... they're consistent with a blood disorder. Possibly leukemia."

The word hangs in the air.

Leukemia.

Cancer.

My five-year-old son might have cancer.

I can't breathe.

Jeffrey's holding me up, but I can barely feel him.

"How long until we know for sure?" he asks.

"Twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"And if it is leukemia?"

"Then we start treatment immediately."

Dr. Martinez leaves.

I sink into a chair.

Jeffrey kneels in front of me. "Alessia, look at me."

I can't.

"Look at me."

I force myself to meet his eyes.

"We're going to get through this," he says. "Whatever it is, we'll fight it. Together."

"He's five years old."

"I know."

"He's just a baby."

"I know."

I bury my face in my hands and finally let myself break.

Jeffrey holds me while I cry.

And somewhere down the hall, my son is fighting for his life.