Chapter 8
Jack
Everyone kept talking about Madison's Instagram posts, but I didn't understand what the fuss was about.
I'd never been much for social media. Madison used to laugh at me in high school for my complete lack of interest in posting photos or following what other people were doing online. "You're such an old soul, Jackie," she'd tease. "You'd rather live life than document it."
Not much had changed. I still didn't use social media.
Sam had mentioned something about Instagram posts.
Harper had shown me her phone once, said something about Madison looking healthy in photos.
Even Pete had made some comment about seeing Madison "out and about" online.
But I'd dismissed it all as people not understanding how cancer worked, how someone could have good days and bad days, how social media never showed the whole truth.
Madison was fighting for her life. What did it matter if she occasionally felt well enough to post a photo?
I was driving to the city again, my phone buzzing with notifications I ignored while I focused on the road ahead.
Madison had called that morning, her voice shaky with anxiety about her surgery scheduled for tomorrow.
The big one, the one that would remove the tumor and determine whether the chemotherapy had worked.
"I'm so scared, Jackie," she'd whispered into the phone. "What if they find that it's spread? What if this is the beginning of the end?"
I'd dropped everything, of course. Pete had been in the middle of explaining a problem with the Williams renovation, but I'd barely heard him. All I could think about was Madison, alone in that sterile hotel room, facing the possibility that tomorrow might bring the worst news imaginable.
My phone rang as I hit the city limits. Mom.
"Jack, honey, I've been trying to reach you all week."
"I'm sorry, Mom. Things have been crazy with work and Madison's treatments and..."
"That's what I'm calling about." Her voice had an edge I'd rarely heard before. "Jack, do you realize Harper is two days away from her due date?"
Two days. That was wrong. "We still have the baby shower, the last appointment." Harper had rescheduled it, hadn't she? I needed to check the calendar for the new appointment date when I got home. "It's two weeks away, Mom."
"Two days," my mom repeated.
Not two weeks, not a week. Two days. Damn it, I'd missed the baby shower as well as the appointment. Harper hadn't even said anything. How had I lost track so completely?
"I... she's not due until..." I fumbled for the date, realizing with growing horror that I couldn't remember exactly when Harper was due. "It's soon, but not that soon."
"Jack Henderson, your wife could go into labor at any moment, and you're in the city playing nursemaid to your ex-girlfriend."
"Madison has cancer, Mom. She's having surgery tomorrow. Harper should be more understanding."
"You think your pregnant wife called me to complain about her absent husband?"
The accusation stung because I had assumed that, but my Mom's words suggested I was wrong. "I didn't say that."
"Well, she didn't. That poor girl hasn't said a word to me about any of this. You want to know how I found out? Mrs. Patterson called me. Then the Johnsons. Then three other neighbors. Half the town is worried sick about Harper going through this pregnancy alone."
My stomach dropped. If the whole town was talking, if people were calling my parents in Florida to express concern...
"Harper's not alone. She has me."
"She has Sam," Mom said sharply. "Because her husband is too busy with another woman to be there for the birth of his child."
"It's not like that."
"Isn't it? Jack, I've seen Madison's Instagram posts. That girl doesn't look like she's dying of cancer to me."
I felt my temper flare. First Madison, then Sam, then Pete, now my mother. "You don't know what you're talking about. Social media doesn't show everything. Madison is just trying to keep up appearances, to stay positive during treatment."
"Jack, listen to yourself. You're defending a woman who's manipulating you while your pregnant wife sits at home wondering if her husband will be there when their baby is born."
"Madison isn't manipulating anyone. She's scared and alone and fighting for her life."
"And Harper is carrying your child and preparing to bring your daughter into the world. Which one should be your priority?"
The question hung in the air, and I felt cornered, attacked from all sides. Everyone seemed to think they knew better than I did, seemed to think Madison was lying, that I was being fooled.
But they weren't here. They didn't see the fear in Madison's eyes, didn't hear the tremor in her voice when she talked about dying. They didn't understand that I was the only thing standing between Madison and complete despair. Her family was on the other side of the country. She needed support.
"Madison needs me," I said finally.
"Harper needs you. And unlike Madison, Harper has a right to need you."
"That's not fair."
"What's not fair is a woman going through pregnancy while her husband is emotionally unavailable. What's not fair is Sam having to step up because you won't. What's not fair is me getting phone calls from concerned neighbors about my daughter-in-law's well-being."
I pulled into the hotel parking lot, my hands shaking with anger and frustration. "I can't do this right now, Mom. Madison is waiting for me."
"Jack, please. Think about what you're doing. You're about to become a father. Don't let Madison cost you that."
"She's not costing me anything. I can be there for both of them."
"Can you? It seems like you're already missing everything that matters. Maybe Mrs. Finlayson was right."
I was almost too scared to ask. "About what, Mom?"
"She thinks you're cheating on Harper. I'm starting to wonder if she's right."
I hung up and sat in the truck for a moment, trying to calm down. Everyone was against me. Everyone thought they knew better. But they weren't seeing the whole picture.
I found Madison in her hotel room, pacing anxiously. She was wearing designer athletic wear, her hair perfectly styled, but her face was pale with worry.
"Jackie, thank God you're here," she said, rushing to hug me. "I've been going crazy thinking about tomorrow."
"Hey, it's going to be okay," I said, holding her close. "The doctors are optimistic, remember?"
"But what if they're wrong? What if they open me up and find that it's everywhere?" She pulled back to look at me, her eyes wide with terror. "I need to know you'll be there tomorrow. Please tell me you won't leave me to face this alone."
"I'll be there for everything – the pre-op, the surgery, the recovery. Whatever you need."
"Even if... even if Harper goes into labor? I know she's close to her due date."
The question felt like a test. Madison was watching my face carefully, waiting to see if I'd choose her over my wife even at the most crucial moment. Even she seemed to know more about my wife's due date than I did.
"Harper's not due yet," I said, though the uncertainty in my voice betrayed me. "And first babies usually take a long time. There's no reason to think there'd be a conflict."
Relief flooded Madison's face. "I just... I couldn't bear going through surgery alone. You're the only person who really understands me, who makes me feel safe."
My phone started ringing. Pete's name on the screen.
"I should take this," I said.
"Please don't," Madison said, grabbing my arm. "I know it's selfish, but I just need you to focus on me tonight. Tomorrow is going to be so scary, and this might be our last night together if..."
She didn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung in the air. If the surgery went badly, if the cancer had spread, this might be the last time we had together.
I looked at my phone, then at Madison's frightened face.
I could call Pete back tomorrow to sort out work.
I would make it up to Harper when I got back.
I'd already planned to take a month off after our baby girl was born.
We'd spend time together, bonding. Everything would be fine.
I just needed to help Madison through the next twenty-four hours.
"You're right," I said, as I rejected Pete’s call. "Today is about you."
Madison's smile was radiant with relief. "Thank you, Jackie. You don't know what that means to me."
She'd ordered room service – my favorite Chinese food, the kind we used to share in high school after football games. She'd also rented several movies, romantic comedies from our teenage years that would take us back to simpler times.
"I thought we could have a night like we used to," she said, dimming the lights and patting the sofa beside her. "Just you and me, forgetting about everything else for a while."
It felt good to sit down, to let Madison curl up against my side under the soft hotel blanket. The stress of the last few weeks seemed to melt away as we settled in to watch the first movie, sharing lo mein and spring rolls like we had when we were teenagers.
"Remember when we watched this movie for the first time?" Madison asked during the credits of the second film. "You fell asleep during the wedding scene."
"I was exhausted from football practice," I protested, reaching for more popcorn.
"You were bored by the romance. I had to wake you up for the credits."
"I'm awake now."
Madison turned to look at me, her face serious despite the lightness of our conversation. "Are you happy, Jackie? Really happy?"
The question caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"With your life. Your marriage. Everything that happened after I left."
I thought about Harper. I thought about the business I was neglecting, the friends who thought I'd lost my mind, the mother who'd called to express her disappointment in my choices. Mrs. Finlayson, who thought I was having an affair.
"I'm happy," I said. Things may be messy and complicated right now, but I had a wife who loved me and a baby on the way. Pete would handle the business problems. Everything would be back to normal soon.
"Because you seem... different. Stressed. Like you're carrying the weight of the world."
"I'm just worried about you."
Madison reached up to touch my face. For a fraction of a second, I froze.
The gesture was so reminiscent of the girl I'd known in high school that my body didn't know how to react.
But I wasn't that boy anymore, and she wasn't that girl.
I was a husband with a baby due in a couple of days, and I loved my wife.
I gently enclosed her hand in mine and pulled it away from my face. "Don't," I said, the word harsher than I intended.
She didn't seem to notice my discomfort. "You've always been such a caretaker. Always trying to save everyone."
"Someone has to," I replied, the words feeling hollow as I thought about Harper at home.
"But who takes care of you?"
The question hung in the air between us, and I found myself thinking about it seriously.
Harper took care of me. She'd made our house a home, had created a life I loved coming back to every day.
But lately, I'd been so focused on Madison's needs that I'd barely noticed what Harper was doing for me.
I needed to fix that, starting tomorrow.
"Let's watch another one," Madison said, selecting the third movie. "I want this night to last as long as possible."
She settled back under the blanket. My phone sat on the side table, the outside world blocked out completely.
Madison fell asleep during the third movie, her breathing soft and even against my chest. I should have moved to the chair, should have put some distance between us, but she looked so peaceful, so trusting. After everything she'd been through, she deserved a night of uninterrupted rest.
I dozed fitfully, waking periodically to check on Madison to make sure she was comfortable. She stirred occasionally, murmuring my name in her sleep, her hand tightening on my shirt as if even unconsciously she was afraid I might leave.
I found myself thinking about the day ahead. Madison's surgery, the hours of waiting, the possibility of devastating news. I'd be there for all of it, her anchor in the storm of medical uncertainty.
What I didn't think about was Harper, alone in our house, timing contractions and wondering if her husband would answer his phone.
I didn't think about Sam checking on her, about the worried looks of our neighbors, about the possibility that while I was sitting on a hotel sofa watching movies, my wife might be preparing to bring our daughter into the world without me.
I didn't think about any of it because my phone was silent, my world had narrowed to the woman sleeping in my arms, and I'd convinced myself that being there for Madison was the most important thing I could do.
It wasn't until much later that I would understand the true cost of that night. The price of choosing comfort over responsibility, nostalgia over duty, the familiar over the uncertain.
But for now, in the quiet hotel room, I held Madison close and told myself I was exactly where I needed to be.