I hadn’t seen Cameron much since my parents and Warren arrived, but it wasn’t because he was upset they were here. Cameron had been in Dr. Brandt mode since I woke up in his on-call room four days ago after I fainted.

He’d been relentlessly going over lab work, ordering more and more scans of Jackson’s brain activity, and while he was in that mode, I would talk to my sleeping son, doing everything I could to bring him back to me.

I pulled my fingers through the top of Jacks’s silky-soft onyx hair. There was a terrible hole in my heart and soul that I could never describe, and now and then, the pain caused a spasm to rip through me when I took a breath. I was exhausted and wanted my son back, but all I could do was keep pushing through each moment, hoping for a miracle.

Today, a pediatric neurosurgeon from Stanford joined Cameron’s team at Cam’s request. The physician was a friend of Cam’s from college, and Cam said he wanted the man’s second opinion as things were leaning toward a better outlook if the surgery was performed.

I trusted Cam and his team explicitly after living in this hospital twenty-four hours a day, all week. Still, I wanted Cameron to feel one hundred percent sure about everything, so whatever that man needed, I was behind it. I wasn’t arguing with anyone at this point.

“Jacks, you’ve officially missed the playoffs. You and I know that Cam and his buddies would’ve made sure you saw it in person if you would’ve just woken up,” I said.

Then a thought hit me, and I walked out of the room to replace a nurse.

“Ms. Stein,” the older woman greeted me. “Is everything okay?”

“I have a silly question,” I said. At this time of night, the only thing that could be heard in this hospital wing was the beeping of monitors and the shuffling of nurses when they got up from their desks to check on patients every so often. It might’ve even been considered peaceful under any other circumstances.

“Nothing is silly,” she smirked. “I’m Polly, by the way. I see that Laticia is assigned to your son, Jackson. Would you rather ask her? She’s just with another patient.”

“No, I’m good,” I answered her smile with a tired one of my own. “I just had a question about patients in a coma.”

“You want to know if they can hear you while they sleep?” she said inquisitively, and after I nodded in response, she continued. “There are many schools of thought on the topic, but I believe they can. Call me eternally optimistic, but I think there is too much evidence to suggest they don’t. We’ve had a handful of reports from patients who had certain recollections from their time in a coma, so who am I to dispute that?”

“Really?” I might not have been an eternal optimist, but I needed to hear that. “I read about it online, but there are so many conflicting stories.”

“I think it depends on what state their brain may be in, but I believe the subconscious mind picks up everything.”

“I think so, too. I hope so, anyway.”

“Just keep talking to him, Mama,” she said. “If anything, he will replace comfort in your voice.”

“Thank you, Polly.”

I walked back into Jackson’s room, seeing my handsome son resting peacefully, and I took his hand in mine. “This better work,” I muttered, feeling my anxiety climb. “The nurse says that you might be able to hear me, Jacks, and I hope you can. Maybe if I keep talking, you’ll want to wake up just to shut me up.” I laughed nervously as I rubbed his limp hand. Here goes. “So, I’m going to tell you something about Dr. Brandt. Remember when you told me that you two had so much in common and that it was freaky?” Jacks and Cam had taken on Jake and Collin in a game of tag football on the beach that day, and Jacks noticed how Cam threw the ball exactly the way he did. “I almost told you then, but Cameron and I decided to wait until after your surgery, so you weren’t stressed or anything, but—” I inhaled, paused, and then continued with a big sigh. “Cameron’s your dad, honey.” I sniffed and wiped a tear from my cheek, wishing I could look into his beautiful eyes as I revealed this. “Imagine that. Your best buddy—and doctor—is actually your father. We were very young when it happened, but it happened nonetheless, and we really need you to come back to us now, Jackson.”

I exhaled. The last of my nerves that’d spiked had dissipated along with all my hope and excitement, believing that revelation would snap my son awake. I would’ve dealt with any kind of fallout later, and when nothing happened after my life-changing reveal, I would have begged for any type of fallout to happen just to get him to wake up. I was desperate.

“Come back to me, Jackson. Please wake up and talk to me, yell at me, or tell me you want me to leave you alone!” I was pleading, begging, and crying with the desolation I felt. “Tell me anything, baby. Just please wake up. Please, please, wake up, Jacks.”

I let the tears erupt from deep inside and laid my head on his chest, holding him and wishing he was awake to shove me off him. I felt like I would go mad if Cameron didn’t have a solution by tomorrow. I needed something. Right now, all I could do was sob and be as close to my sleeping, handsome man as I could be.


“Come here, Jess,” Cam said, rousing me awake after falling asleep on Jacks.

He positioned me to turn and face where he knelt in front of me. I reached for his face and studied his eyes. “I need him back, Cam,” I said, running my thumb underneath Cam’s brilliant eyes. “Please do something.”

I started crying again and leaned into his embrace. I felt Cam soften and hold me for the first time since meeting the solemn surgeon who’d taken over. His arms ran up my back, bringing a warm and soothing comfort to my aching soul.

“I’m going to, Jessa,” he said. “I’m going through with the surgery.”

I snapped my head up to look at him. “You’re confident?”

As he nodded, I could see he was sure. “If I weren’t confident, I wouldn’t consider it as I’ve told you. But, yes, this is going to take care of a lot of issues. After surgery, he may wake up within hours, or it might take days, at the most. I need you to understand there can and may be complications, though, as with any surgery.”

“I understand. I think I do, anyway.” I sniffed and ran my hands over my eyes. “Please tell me you’re saying this because of protocol or something?”

“Yes, protocol, but I also want you to be prepared for anything,” he continued. “I know this has been quite a journey for you and our son, and this will be the steepest mountain to climb. However, this past month has shown me that you and Jacks have what it takes to get to the top.”

I hugged him tightly, and for the first time since this happened, my inward resentment of Cam subsided. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to loop him into my self-loathing, but I did. He was my accomplice in selfishly neglecting our child, and even though I couldn’t forgive either one of us for our actions, it felt good to know he was able to help turn this situation around. At least one of us had the power to redeem ourselves; it sure wasn’t me, though, and I wouldn’t let myself off the hook that quickly anyway.

I pulled away as the ICU nurse admitted Warren. “Dr. Brandt, there’s a call for you.”

“Thanks, Laticia.” Cam stood and faced me as Warren stood next to me. “It’s good that you’re here,” he acknowledged Warren. “The phone call is from the lab. They’ve got the results I’ve been expecting to show that Jackson is a candidate for surgery, and so, I plan on surgery at four in the morning.”

“Don’t you think that is a bit fast?” Warren questioned Cameron.

Cam eyed me, then Warren. “Actually, I believe the surgery could have taken place yesterday; however, I wanted Dr. Astor’s opinion. You are aware of that, are you not?”

Cameron was that hard-faced and stiff-talking surgeon again, and Warren was face-to-face with a man who would bury him with words if he wasn’t careful.

“I understand that, Cameron—”

“Thank you, Dr. Brandt,” I acknowledged Cameron professionally since his current demeanor demanded it, and Warren knew that.

Warren was being a prick, and I knew it. I wasn’t in the mood for games, though. I wanted my son to be well and for Cameron to be confident in this surgery. I didn’t have time for cockfights between two grown men who hated each other.

“I am very confident performing this, like I was telling you, Jessa,” Cam said. “It will be roughly a six-hour surgery, and I expect a full recovery after that. We will have our neuropsychology team ready to aid you with any further questions, but that will come after surgery. This can take a toll on you, but you’ve already been through hell, so this is just one more thing to push through.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Once Jackson is awake,” he looked between Warren and me, “which I expect to happen within hours after surgery, our rehab center will begin working with him immediately. I want him to be challenged, and I will not back down.”

“Do you think that is necessary so quickly after surgery?” Warren asked, speaking before I could.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t demand it,” he answered, then looked at me. “After spending a fair enough time with Jacks, I’m confident that challenging him immediately—starting small, of course—is what he’ll need and where he’ll thrive. The teams will go over all of this in further detail.”

“Thanks, Cam,” I said, forgetting about Warren and hugging Cameron with the sincerity and relief I felt.

“He’s going to surprise all of us,” Cameron said with a smirk, his deep blue eyes sparkling as they stared into mine. “I promise you that, Mom.”

With only a fraction of a second to feel that spark that made me come alive from the inside out, he half-smiled, then pulled away. “Both of you should get your rest. Starting tomorrow, you’ll face many mental and physical demands. And when Jacks is awake, he will need you to be rested and ready to go to work with him.”

“I’ll get her to the hotel,” Warren slid his arm around me and looked at me. “Your parents need to know what’s going on as well.”

“I can speak with them. Where are they?” Cameron asked.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Warren said, and I pulled away from him the minute I sensed his enjoyment at relaying that information.

I would’ve been shocked if anyone despised Cameron more than my parents. They were also the most passive-aggressive people I knew. I loved my parents, but they stopped talking to me for a time because I didn’t nail Cameron to the wall for knocking me up and taking off. They didn’t appreciate when I didn’t take their advice, and, as certain people love to do, they got their feelings hurt and made it about them.

I put up with it because I wanted Jackson to know his grandparents, and I hated the thought that my parents were upset with me. It killed me to have that contention, so we worked through it eventually. Once Warren came along, my mother and father adored him for taking on another man’s burden by caring for his child and the woman he’d selfishly left behind.

I avoided the Cameron Brandt discussion with my parents like the plague. And now, here Cameron was, wanting to speak with them. And why shouldn’t he? He was their grandson’s doctor. I just didn’t know how it would play out.

“You may not think that’s a good idea, Warren,” Cameron said, after studying him for a moment, “but they are the maternal grandparents. If they have any questions, I would like to answer them.”

Warren looked at me. “Your parents don’t need to be put in an awkward situation. They’re as stressed as we are, and, as you know, their opinions aren’t very high of Cameron.”

“I’m standing right here, Warren,” Cameron seethed. “And I understand if Rod and Patty don’t want to have the stress of their grandson’s—”

“Is it absolutely necessary?” I cut Cameron off, not wanting the added stress of this. “I can relay the info to them. And honestly, if you’re doing the surgery at four in the morning, maybe it’s best if you get some rest. Focus on Jackson, and I’ll deal with my parents.”

Cameron eyed me, and I didn’t want to know what the man was thinking from his expression. I hadn’t meant to insult him, but I did not need the added bullshit of my parents hating him right now. I couldn’t do it. It would hurt Cam, and it would hurt them. It was just too fucking much.

“If you feel more comfortable giving your mom and dad the information, then fine. I’ll head out since I’ll be back here first thing tomorrow.” He spun around and then was gone.

“Shit,” I said, feeling horrible that I’d inadvertently chosen my parents over Cameron. “I feel awful.”

“Don’t,” Warren answered. “Cameron should know this isn’t the time to be the hotshot doctor and make amends with your parents that way. It’s absolute nonsense, and I, for one, would like to respect your parents’ wishes of never being in his presence again.”

“Jesus Christ, Warren,” I looked at him. “That’s a bit harsh. What they don’t like about Cameron happened sixteen years ago. My parents should be over it by now.”

Warren took my hand and gently guided us out of the room. “Jessa,” he said once we were walking through the hallways and weren’t in earshot of anyone, “your parents love you very much.”

“I know that,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“So, you know their current disdain was renewed after learning that he was apparently flying you everywhere in private jets and playing on the beach when he should have been focused on healing your son,” Warren said, repeating everything I was ashamed of myself for.

“This is bullshit,” I said. My world seemed to be spinning out of control, and I didn’t feel like it was a good idea for me to leave my son. “I can’t leave the hospital. I won’t.”

“You need to get some proper rest, and staying here isn’t going to give you that,” he answered.

“I can make my own decisions, Warren. Thank you.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but the last time I left you to make your own decisions, Jacks ended up in a coma while you were in Mexico.”

I glared at him. “Fuck you,” I growled. “You don’t think I already blame myself for this?”

“I just don’t understand where your mind is anymore, Jessica. None of this has made sense since you flew out here and hunted that man down for help.”

“After the surgery, and when Jacks is recovered, you’ll understand,” I said, suddenly feeling weak from arguing with Warren.

Weak and stupid.

“Then why wasn’t the surgery decided on in the beginning, Jessica? Why is he suddenly the heroic doctor? I don’t want to insult you, but you should understand that this whole thing makes people question you and your relationship with Cameron. It’s not a good look for a mother who says she wanted help for her son and ends up in bed with his doctor.”

“I’m not doing this,” I said, walking briskly away from him.

“Doing what?” he questioned, stepping up to keep up with me. “Listening to the truth? People talk, you know?”

I was stopped when he tugged my arm and placed his arms around me.

“I just want him better,” I said.

That was the end of my fight for my own happiness.

Somehow, I’d given Warren and my parents power over me, and I was too weak to fight for it back. I didn’t even know if I wanted it back. I clearly wasn’t responsible enough to keep my son from nearly dying. I deserved this shame for what I’d done to Jackson. It was painfully obvious that my decision-making couldn’t be trusted.

I hated that I felt so weak. I hated that everything Warren was saying was right. And I hated that I agreed with him.

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