Chapter Four
Jamie
Eric waited exactly where he’d promised, and relief flooded through me at the sight of him.
Not just because he was devastatingly good to look at, but because having him there made facing Caleb feel possible. In my head, all I could picture was the vibrant teenager reduced to a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, looking too much like my father.
The pain slammed back into my chest, sharp and relentless.
I pressed my hand over my heart, half-expecting it to leap free. The tremor in my hands was so violent I could feel it against my breastbone.
Please don’t let it show.
The thought of Caleb seeing how terrified I was turned my legs to lead.
Eric’s hand settled at the small of my back, light but deliberate in a way that felt almost…protective? Possessive? I couldn’t tell, but whatever it was made my pulse skip as he guided me forward with that same quiet confidence I’d noticed before.
He was barely touching me, and still, I had trouble focusing on anything else.
But maybe that was the point.
“Look who I found,” Eric called as we stepped into the room.
Three faces turned toward us.
Relief hit first. Caleb looked the same as I remembered. Yes, he was in a hospital bed with machines clustered around him, tubes snaking everywhere, still bald and pale and undeniably sick. But none of that registered first.
It was the grin. Brilliant, mischievous, completely at odds with his surroundings. The kind of smile that made it impossible to forget the clever, vibrant kid underneath all the medical equipment.
His parents were another story.
They both looked confused, their surprise dulled by exhaustion etched deep into their faces. His mother most of all. She looked wrung out, every nerve stretched past breaking and still expected to hold.
Suddenly, I understood why Eric wanted me here.
“Wow! My day is complete.” Caleb might’ve been a little too pleased to see me, judging by the sharp look his mother shot him.
“Mon beau, who is this?” she asked Eric, her accent thick and unmistakably Francophone, before turning her beautiful hazel eyes on me.
She was stunning. Even under harsh hospital lighting, her thick dark hair shone, her features striking in a way that felt effortless. Perfectly shaped brows, strong cheekbones, the kind of woman who turned heads without trying.
“Mom. Dad.” Caleb’s eyes danced with mischief. “Let me introduce you to the prettiest woman in this godforsaken hospital. I found her yesterday.”
His infectious smile burned off the last of my nerves.
“Gorgeous.” He nodded at me like it was a title I’d earned. “May I present my parents, Sylvie and Glenn Alexander.”
I blinked. What was the appropriate response to that? A handshake felt wildly insufficient. With Caleb’s theatrical flair, a full curtsy almost seemed expected.
“Hello.” I managed a stilted wave. If nothing else, it felt safer than fainting.
“Caleb, you suck at introductions.” Eric’s low chuckle vibrated through me as he nudged me deeper into the room.
“Oh, come on,” Caleb protested.
“Mom, Dad, this is Jamie,” Eric continued. “I rescued her from your youngest son yesterday. He assaulted her with a pudding cup.”
Caleb gasped in exaggerated offense. “Liar.”
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. “Actually, I think Caleb rescued me. I was feeling a bit low, but he helped cheer me up. And I’m fairly certain I was the one who assaulted the pudding.”
Smiles spread around the room, but Sylvie’s stood out. It softened and warmed, like she was filing the moment away somewhere precious.
“This is his habit. Cheering people up.” Her eyes shone as she focused on me. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jamie.”
“Yes,” Glenn’s voice was unexpectedly rich, smooth and refined despite his quiet demeanor.
He wasn’t unattractive, but next to his wife, he faded slightly into the background.
“Very nice to meet you. And may I say, Caleb is quite right. You’re a very striking young woman.
I don’t believe I’ve seen a prettier face in this hospital. ”
My pulse stuttered. Oh no.
He cleared his throat, glancing quickly at his wife. “Except for you, of course, my dear.”
I stood there, suddenly hyperaware of my hands, my posture, my face. Was I supposed to laugh? Deflect? Thank him? With this family, it felt like there might be a correct response and I was already a step behind.
Then everyone else started laughing. Everyone, including his wife.
“Nice job trying to save yourself, Dad,” Caleb teased. “You almost fooled her.”
“What?” Glenn scoffed. “I’m allowed to notice these things. She’s a lovely girl. And your mother knows how much I adore her.”
“Mom also knows how to lock you out of the bedroom.” Eric was clearly enjoying himself.
Sylvie flushed but waved it off. “Oui, but your father also knows to properly beg forgiveness. He’s never spent an entire night on the couch.”
“Eww.” Caleb’s nose scrunched up. “TMI, Mom. T. M. Freakin’ I.”
Laughter filled the room, easy and unrestrained, washing away the last of my awkwardness and loosening the knot in my chest.
This wasn’t what I’d expected. Eric’s parents weren’t stiff or formal. They were relaxed, playful even. Open with their affection, teasing each other like people who’d spent years choosing each other again and again.
And the way they folded their sons into that warmth and affection felt effortless.
Standing in the middle of it was strange. Not wrong, just…bigger than what I was used to.
My world was small by necessity. It was just me and Hunter, everything contained and manageable.
This was different. More people, more voices, more love moving in all directions at once.
And it felt good to be inside it, even if just for that moment.
I let myself fall into their easy rhythm—light conversation about weather and headlines. The boys spun into a spirited baseball debate while Sylvie and I exchanged knowing looks like we’d done this a hundred times before.
It was laid-back. Happy, even.
We hadn’t forgotten where we were, but for a few minutes, the weight lifted enough to let something hopeful slip in. As if somehow, we all knew we’d be okay.
Maybe.
The conversation lulled and I cleared my throat. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, but I should be going. I just wanted to pop in and say hello to Caleb.”
“Please. You make me feel ancient. First names are fine, mon ange.” Sylvie’s voice was warm with invitation. “I hope these rowdy boys didn’t scare you off. Having another woman around is nice. You cannot stay?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s been wonderful, but I should get back to my father. The nurses can’t seem to get him to eat anything, and I thought I might try.”
They didn’t need my problems. Not on top of everything else they were carrying. And yet the words kept coming, tumbling out before I could stop them.
“He probably won’t eat for me either. He’s dying, but he’s still the most stubborn person I know. He doesn’t want me here, but I figure maybe I can blackmail him into eating if I promise to leave when he’s done.”
They all stared like I’d grown an extra head. And really, who could blame them?
Heat crept up my neck.
Once again, I was too damn much. I’d taken something light and dropped it straight into the deep end.
“You shouldn’t give up.” Glenn’s voice was thoughtful. “I’m sure he wants you here, but perhaps he’s feeling vulnerable. Parents are meant to be the caregivers. Accepting a reversal like that can be…difficult.”
“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “And he’s probably scared.”
The word scared lodged somewhere deep and stayed there.
I’d been so wrapped up in my own dread, my own history, that I hadn’t considered what this felt like from the other side of the bed. From my father’s side.
Maybe they were right. My father had pushed me away before, when everything felt out of control. This might not be so different. It could be fear talking. Or even weakness.
Not rejection.
“Thank you.” More words tangled between gratitude and regret, but I didn’t trust myself to sort them out. “It was nice seeing you again, Caleb.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” He grinned.
It wasn’t the wild, flirtatious smile he’d flashed before. This one was quieter. Genuine. The kind that made my chest ache a little.
I turned to Eric. “Walk me out?”
He nodded once, mouth set in a hard line.
This time, he didn’t touch me as we left. He followed a few steps behind, deliberate distance opening between us where there hadn’t been any before. The space felt heavy with everything I’d dumped into that room without meaning to.
I’d taken a good moment and bent it into something uncomfortable. Turned their warmth into an opportunity to throw a pity party for myself.
That wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t fragile or self-absorbed. I was capable and grounded.
Hell, I’d raised a child on my own since I was eighteen.
So why did I feel like I was coming apart now? Over my father, of all people?
The shame settled deep and unwelcome.
The moment we stepped into the hallway, I spun toward him. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” His voice was firm enough to stop me mid-breath. “You’re not doing that.”
I froze, my heart stuttering.
“Don’t apologize for having feelings. At least you’re brave enough to show them.” His jaw was tight, tone controlled in a way that felt intentional. “I’ve been hiding behind fake smiles and bad jokes since Caleb was diagnosed. Yesterday was the first time I smiled for real.”
My breath caught. “Yesterday?”
“Yeah.” He met my gaze without hesitation. “When I saw you and the awestruck look on my little brother’s face. I knew you were the reason he looked so fucking happy. He hasn’t looked like that in a long time, Jamie. We’ve both just been pretending.”
“But I didn’t do anything. I was wallowing in my own misery. He’s the one who made me smile.”
“Maybe. But you let him in. You smiled back, and it wasn’t out of pity. That mattered.”
He crossed his arms, the movement stretching his shirt tight across his chest. “He needs to feel like he can do more than make people cry. He wants to make people laugh. You gave him that.”
I swallowed, emotion pressing tight against my ribs.
“Those moments are all we really have,” he said. “They’re the things that fucking count.”
I looked down, shame still circling despite his words. “I still feel like I ruined it.”
“You didn’t. You reminded us that we’re not the only ones hurting in this place.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You also gave Caleb a new challenge. You left his room looking upset. He’s going to make it his personal mission to track you down and fix that.”
The thought of Caleb’s stubborn optimism tugged a smile out of me, but it was Eric who held it there.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched something real in me this quickly. Not with charm or obligation, but with presence. The way he’d held me while I cried—solid, unflinching—had felt like something to grab onto when everything else was slipping.
Which was exactly what made it dangerous.
Men like him didn’t just appear when you needed them most. Sincere, self-possessed, and unfairly attractive. The timing felt suspect, like the universe dangling something shiny I wasn’t meant to touch.
I drew in a slow breath and blew it out hard, the sound breaking into an unmistakable raspberry. Not graceful, but honest. Besides, he’d already seen me with pudding in my teeth and tears on my cheeks. Any pretense was long gone.
Eric’s smile widened, dimples flashing like he knew exactly what they did to me.
God, he really is great to look at.
“Thanks, Eric. For everything.”
“Anytime.”
I turned toward my father’s room, forcing my legs to move.
“Hey.”
I glanced back.
He leaned against the doorframe, one arm braced overhead, bicep bulging against his sleeve. His posture was casual in a way that should’ve been illegal, his gaze steady and unapologetic as it held mine.
“I’ll see you around, beautiful Jamie.” He winked and backed into Caleb’s room without breaking eye contact.
I continued down the hall on rubber legs, with a smile fixed stubbornly on my face. It stayed with me all the way to my father’s door.
It was still there when I stepped inside.
Even as I faced the one man who’d spent years breaking my heart.