Chapter 8
When Layla got back to the hospital, Alfie was feeding Camryn his dinner.
Camryn was wearing a bib with little dinosaurs on it, his cheeks stuffed full and puffed out, looking just like an adorable little hamster gobbling up his food.
"Daddy, I don't want carrots," Camryn said.
Alfie took the piece of carrot and ate it himself, chewing as he went.
"See? Daddy's eating it too," Alfie said.
"Daddy, you're lying," Camryn said, pushing the spoon away. "Mommy said you hate carrots the most. She always has to make you eat them."
Alfie's fingers froze for a moment on the rim of the bowl.
Both Alfie and Camryn turned to look at the same time.
Layla was standing in the doorway, holding a thermos.
Camryn immediately pouted and turned his head toward the window.
Alfie set the bowl down, stood up, and wiped his hands with a tissue.
"You're here," Alfie said.
"Go get some rest. I'll take over for you," Layla said, stepping forward. Her voice was raspy and weak. "Just let me do something, even if it's just a little."
She set the thermos down on the nightstand with a soft thud.
Alfie turned to face her.
The slanted light fell across his shoulders, and Layla finally saw that his temples weren't just peppered with a few white hairs.
There were big sections, almost as if someone had splashed white paint over them.
He was only thirty-one.
"Everyone's mad at me," Layla said, her voice shaking. "I know I messed up. I really do."
Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the seal on the thermos.
"Can you give me just a little space? Let me in, even if it's just a crack," she pleaded.
Alfie stayed silent, his gaze lingering on Camryn's small, hunched back.
Camryn clung to his stuffed bear, squeezing it so tightly that its ears were bent out of shape.
"Stay with him," Alfie said as he stood up, the chair scraping against the tile. "I'm stepping out for a bit."
The door closed softly behind him.
All that was left in the room was the soft ticking of the machines.
Camryn buried his face in his stuffed bear's belly, his little shoulders shook again and again.
His muffled sobs leaked out from under the blanket, like someone had covered his mouth to stifle his cries.
Layla crouched down, her hand reaching out halfway before she stopped, hovering in the air.
"Camryn," she said softly, "Want Mommy to tell you a story?"
"No," Camryn mumbled.
"How about building blocks?" Layla asked.
Camryn clenched the pillowcase in his fist, staying silent.
"Camryn, just tell Mommy what you want. I'll get it for you," Layla said softly.
Suddenly, Camryn rolled over.
His eyes were red like a little rabbit's, tears still clinging to his lashes, and he spoke in a shaky, babyish voice.
He said, "I don't want Mommy to go.
"Mommy, please don't go, okay?"
Her tears spilled out all at once.
She reached out to hug him; Camryn tensed up, pulling his shoulders in, but he stayed put.
His tiny body snuggled into her arms, warm and cozy.
The milky scent mixed with the sterile hospital air, flooding her senses.
She hugged him tightly.
Layla said, her voice shaking, "Mommy's here. Mommy's not going anywhere, ever again."