I'm here sweetheart

I'M HERE, SWEETHEART 

The cab dropped me off at the hotel just after three in the morning.

I was still in my scrubs. No coat despite the freezing December air. My hair was falling out of its ponytail. I probably looked like hell.

But none of that mattered.

I just needed to see my son.

The lobby was nearly empty. Just a night clerk who nodded at me as I passed. The elevator ride to my floor felt endless.

When I reached my suite, my hands shook as I fumbled with the key card. It took three tries before the light turned green.

I pushed the door open.

And froze.

My suite was full of people.

My mother sat on the couch like she owned the place, her posture perfect even at this ungodly hour. Savannah lounged in the armchair, scrolling through her phone with a bored expression. My father stood by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

And Lucas hovered near the bedroom door, looking like he'd been there for hours.

But my eyes went immediately to Damian.

He sat in the corner chair, laptop balanced on his knee. And in his arms, curled up and fast asleep, was Jace.

Relief hit me so hard I thought my knees might give out.

Jace was okay. He was safe. He was here.

I crossed the room without acknowledging anyone else. I didn't care that they were watching. Didn't care what they thought.

"Baby," I whispered, reaching for him.

Damian carefully transferred Jace into my arms. My son was warm and heavy with sleep, his breath soft against my neck.

I held him tight, just breathing him in. He smelled like himself. Like safety. Like home.

"Mommy?" he mumbled, not quite awake.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here."

Jace made a small sound and snuggled closer, already falling back into deeper sleep.

I looked at Damian over Jace's head. "Thank you” I said, my voice sounding rough —due to the many hours of shouting in the ER— I hoped my eyes gave away my genuineness. “How was he?”

"He was good," Damian said quietly. "We watched a movie. He had some snacks. He fell asleep around midnight."

"He didn't wake up scared?"

"Once. About an hour ago. He asked for you. I told him you'd be back soon." Damian's dark eyes held mine. "I kept my promise."

Something warm unfurled in my chest. Something dangerous that I quickly pushed away.

No– I couldn't think about this. Not now.

"The surgery?" he asked.

"Successful. The boy is stable."

"Good."

It was only then did I turn to face the others, at the same time Savannah looked up from her phone with a smirk. 

"Here comes the doctor of the year."

The sarcasm in her voice was thick enough to sting.

I stared at Savannah, my exhaustion suddenly sharpening into fury.

"Get out," I said quietly.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Savannah said, still scrolling through her phone. "We've been waiting here for hours. The least you could do is talk to us."

"I don't owe you anything."

My mother stood from the couch, smoothing her dress. "That's where you're wrong, Scarlet. After the spectacle you made tonight, you owe us an explanation."

"A spectacle?" I repeated slowly. "I saved a man's life."

"You drew attention to yourself," my father said, his voice hard. "Made us all look like villains in front of half of Minneapolis society."

The absurdity of it hit me like a physical blow.

They were angry at me. For saving someone's life. For being good at my job.

Nothing had changed. Five years away, a medical degree, a whole new life, and nothing had changed.

Damian's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression darkened.

"I need to take this," he said, standing. He looked at me, concern flickering across his face. "Will you be alright?"

I wanted to say no. I wanted to ask him to stay. But I couldn't keep hiding behind other people.

"I'll be fine."

Damian hesitated, his eyes searching mine. Then he nodded and walked toward the door, phone already to his ear.

The second the door closed behind him, my mother moved.

She crossed the room and positioned herself between me and the bedroom door. Blocking my escape route.

"We need to talk," she said.

"You need to leave," I countered, adjusting Jace in my arms. He was getting heavy, but I wasn't putting him down. Not with these people here.

"You made us look like fools tonight!" My father's voice boomed across the room.

Jace flinched in my arms.

"Keep your voice down," I said through gritted teeth.

"Everyone's talking about how we 'mistreated' you!" my father continued, ignoring me completely. "Do you have any idea what that does to our reputation? Our business relationships?"

"You mistreated me," I said coldly. "That's not my fault. That's yours."

"Oh please," Savannah said, finally looking up from her phone. "So you learned some medical tricks. That doesn't change what you are. A vindictive bitch who ran away and—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes had locked onto something on me.

I turned slowly, following her gaze.

Jace was staring at them, while rubbing sleep from his eyes. He must have woken up from the loud voices and was now trying to wiggle out of my arm. I tightened my arm around him.

"Mommy?" he said, his voice small and confused.

My heart stopped.

Because I saw what they were seeing.

Jace's face glowing in the light from the bedroom. His dark hair mussed from sleep. His blue eyes blinked sleepily. The stubborn set of his jaw. The way he held himself, even at five years old.

The unmistakable Cole features.

The room went deathly silent.

Lucas stared at Jace, his mouth slightly open.

My mother's eyes narrowed, calculating.

My father's face went pale.

Savannah's expression shifted from confusion to something sharper. More knowing.

"Why does that child look awfully like Damian?" Savannah asked, her voice cutting through the silence.