Chapter 15 Harper
I stood at the edge of the pond, shaking so hard I should’ve felt it–only I didn’t.
I couldn’t feel anything. Not the cold biting at my skin.
Not the sharp wind whipping past me. Nothing except the suffocating weight crushing my chest. My legs gave out without warning, the strength draining from me until I dropped to my knees on the frozen bank.
The ice beneath me groaned in protest, yet I couldn’t move.
My throat burned, raw from screaming, though no sound came anymore.
Around me, the world kept moving, but it didn’t feel real. Nina’s voice–frantic, desperate–was trying to calm Liam down, muffled and distant, like I was hearing it through water.
Underwater.
Connor was still underwater.
Oh God.
How long had it been?
My stomach lurched violently. I was going to be sick. I couldn’t breathe. My vision tunnelled, narrowing to the jagged hole in the ice, black and gaping.
Where are they?
Connor.
Ryan.
Ryan had jumped in.
When?
Minutes ago? Seconds? It felt like hours. It couldn’t have been. It couldn’t.
What if he doesn’t come up?
The thought struck so hard, so fast, it knocked the air from my lungs.
I can’t live without him.
I won’t.
Panic clawed at my throat. My entire body screamed to move, to do something, but I couldn’t. I was frozen. Trapped in this nightmare.
No. Don’t think like that.
Ryan will save him. He has to.
The ice groaned under my boots as I took a shaky step forward. My heart was pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. I needed to do something. I had to do something.
But what?
What the hell could I do?
I was helpless.
And then–
A splash.
A gasp.
Movement.
My entire body locked up as I stared at the hole in the ice, my nails digging into my palms so hard I barely noticed the sting.
Something was coming up.
A flash of red.
My breath stalled in my chest.
Connor’s jacket.
Then, his body.
His small, lifeless body breaking through the black water.
His lips were blue. His face was blue. His blond hair was slicked to his forehead, frozen in thick, wet clumps. His eyelashes–heavy with ice. His skin–God, his skin–was pale, too pale, like wax paper stretched too thin over his small frame.
Was his chest moving?
Was he breathing?!
“No,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. Then the scream ripped from me, raw and desperate. “No, no, no!”
Shane was running to the edge of the pond. Connor in his arms. Limp. Lifeless. His head lolled back, his arms dangling at unnatural angles as Shane tore across the ice.
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Shane hit the frozen ground on his knees, ripped off his jacket, then laid Connor on top of it. His big hands shook as he tilted Connor’s chin back and started compressions.
One. Two. Three. Four.
“No,” I whimpered, shaking my head. “No, no, no, he has to be okay. He has to be okay.”
Ryan dropped beside Shane–soaking wet.
His lips–just as blue as Connor’s. His dark hair plastered to his forehead. Water dripping down his nose, his cheeks, his chin. His shoulders heaved, his breath coming in sharp, gasping bursts, and his eyes–his eyes were wild. Desperate. Locked onto Connor.
Ryan shoved Shane aside, nearly knocking him over.
“Go,” Ryan snapped, his voice hoarse, jerking his chin toward the house.
Shane didn’t hesitate. He took off. Sprinting.
Ryan turned back to Connor, pressing his hands to his chest. Pounding. Harder than Shane had. His hands trembled, but his movements were strong. Unrelenting.
“Come on,” Ryan muttered under his breath. “Come on, buddy, breathe.”
I dropped to my knees beside them, my hands clasped together, my lips moving in frantic, soundless prayers.
Please. Please.
I had never believed in God. Not really.
But I would now.
I would believe in anything, everything, if it meant my son would take another breath.
Tears blurred my vision as I rocked back and forth, my fingernails digging into my palms so hard I thought they might break skin.
“You can’t take him!” I sobbed, my voice ragged, broken. “You can’t have him! Do you hear me?! You can’t have him!”
And then–
A cough.
A sputtering, choking cough.
Water spilled from Connor’s lips. His chest heaved. His belly rose.
A breath.
A massive, glorious, gasping breath.
I choked on a sob and lunged forward, grabbing him, cradling him against me, my entire body shaking with relief and fear and love so strong it nearly took me under.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I cried into his damp hair, rocking him, pressing frantic kisses to his icy forehead. “Baby, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Ryan slumped back onto his heels, his head tipping toward the sky, his hands covering his face. His shoulders rose and fell, his entire body trembling.
Behind us, Nina and Liam were both sobbing.
Connor was breathing.
He was breathing.
His lashes fluttered against his pale cheeks, and then, finally, his eyes opened.
Relief crashed over me so hard I almost collapsed.
“Connor,” I choked out, smoothing his wet hair back from his forehead.
His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but his whole body shuddered violently in my arms.
“Shh,” I whispered, tightening my grip on him. “Save your energy, baby.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Shane was sprinting toward us, arms full of blankets.
I didn’t want to let Connor go–not for a second, not ever–but his clothes were still drenched, his little body trembling so hard it rattled against mine. He needed warmth.
As if reading my mind, Ryan knelt beside us, his hands shaking as he reached for Connor’s soaked clothes.
“Shane’s got blankets,” he murmured. “We need to get these off.”
I opened my mouth to say thank you, my throat tightening, eyes burning. Before I could, Ryan spoke again.
“I–” He stopped abruptly. His jaw clenched. His breath shuddered out of him. Then his head dropped forward, and I saw it–
The tears streaking down his face.
Something inside me broke.
A strangled sob tore from my throat, and suddenly, I was crying too. Crying because Connor was alive. Because Ryan had saved him. Because I had never been more terrified in my entire life.
We stripped the last of Connor’s soaked clothes off and wrapped him tightly in the blankets Shane had brought, cocooning him in warmth.
I tucked him against me, held him close, my lips brushing against his freezing forehead.
For a moment, I wasn’t on the frozen ground with sirens wailing in the distance. I was back in his nursery, rocking him in the middle of the night, his tiny body curled against mine, his breath warm against my neck.
It had been so long since he let me hold him like this.
A shuddering breath left my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.
Footsteps crunched on the frozen ground.
The present slammed back into me.
The paramedics arrived with a stretcher, their voices calm but urgent. Behind them, a police officer spoke in hushed tones to Shane and Nina. Liam had finally stopped crying, his small frame pressed into Nina’s side, his arms wrapped around her like she was the only thing keeping him upright.
The paramedics worked quickly–securing Connor to the stretcher, slipping an oxygen mask over his face.
One of them turned to Ryan. “You should get checked out too.”
Ryan barely glanced at them. “I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. His lips were still tinged blue. His hands still trembled. Water dripped from his clothes, clinging to his body, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. He looked like he was barely holding himself together.
I didn’t have the strength to argue.
All that mattered was getting Connor to the hospital.
I stood, never letting go of my son as I followed the paramedics to the ambulance.
Ryan was right behind me.
At the open doors, he hesitated–just for a second–before meeting my eyes. “I’ll be right behind you.”
The doors shut, sealing us inside.
And then we were moving–sirens splitting through the frozen night as we raced toward the hospital.