16. Chapter 16
Seren
Sweat dripped down my back as I sat in the locker room with the team.
That training session was particularly brutal.
Especially since Cai was up a few times last night.
I was pretty sure my blood sugar was non-existent right now.
Somewhere between getting him dressed, packing his bag, and making sure he actually ate something that resembled breakfast, I remembered that I’d skipped my own entirely.
Teddy pushed off the bench and stepped closer, holding a container out to me. “Eat.”
I looked down at it. “What is it?”
“Peanut and chocolate protein clusters I made at home,” she said, lifting her shoulder. “You look like you need a boost.” I did; there was no denying. I was grateful my captain was so resourceful.
“Thanks,” I said, taking one and popping it into my mouth, enjoying the sweet and salty crunch. “So good.”
“Seren.” Coach Emery’s voice cut across the room, gaining everyone’s attention not just mine. “Front office has a call for you.”
At that, all my sugar-induced joy evaporated because I’d only told one place to call the front office if they couldn’t get a hold of me. I made my way there faster than I had energy for, and someone handed me the phone as soon as I arrived. “Hello, this is Seren.”
“Hi, Seren, it’s Laura from Little Oaks. I’m so sorry to call, but Cai’s got a fever and he’s been throwing up. Can you come pick him up?”
My thoughts scattered, and the only thing I could picture was him being flushed and sad and I wasn’t there. My poor baby. “Of course,” I rushed to say. “I’ll leave right now.”
I thanked Penny and got back to the locker room, ready to grab my bag.
Teddy looked up first. “What’s happened?”
“Cai’s got a fever and a stomach flu,” I said, zipping my bag shut. “They want me to pick him up.”
“Go,” she assured me. “Text me if you need anything.”
I nodded, feeling the heaviness of my own tiredness, but already moving again. “Thanks.”
Walking toward the exit, Jake spotted me through the glass, mid-set with a barbell in his hands, his focus snapping the second he saw the way I wasn’t even pretending to slow down.
“Seren—” he called out, as he pushed through the doors after me, catching up breathing heavily. “Everything okay?”
Shaking my head, my grip tightened on the strap of my bag as I kept moving. “Cai’s sick.”
Something in his face dropped. “Shit, is he okay?”
“They just said he’s been sick, so—” I swallowed, pushing the door open harder than necessary. “I need to get to him.”
He nodded, and I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t have time to talk. “Do you want a ride?”
The second offer in minutes of people showing up for me, us, was making it hard not to cry.
For the last couple of years, I was living in my parents’ annex, but now they were an hour away, and despite the offers, I knew that I had to do this by myself at some point.
“I’m good. It’s not that far. Could you just let Nate know?
He’ll worry otherwise, but I’ll call him later. ”
I took off without another word, power-walking the whole way. By the time I reached the building, my legs ached as I got to the front desk.
“Hi. I’m here for Cai,” I said, taking a greedy inhale.
The manager led me to his age group where he was cuddling Laura.
The second he saw me, his little face crumpled.
“Mama,” he whimpered, arms already reaching, and that was all it took for my heart to cave straight in on itself.
I crossed the room fast, dropping my bag by the wall before taking him from Laura. He came into me all hot cheeks and limp limbs, tucking his face into my neck with a tiny broken sound that made my throat burn.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I whispered, smoothing my hand over the back of his head. “I’ve got you.”
“He’s been sick twice in the last hour,” Laura said gently. “His temperature climbed a little after lunch, and he’s been really clingy.”
“Okay,” I said, even though hearing it made guilt stab through me all over again, like I should’ve known somehow, like I should’ve felt it from across town. I pressed my lips to Cai’s temple and flinched at the heat there. “Thank you for calling me.”
“Of course. We packed his things for you already.”
I nodded and shifted him higher on my hip, murmuring another thank you as Laura handed me his bag and mine. Cai gave a weak little whine, fingers curling into the front of my shirt, and I rubbed my palm up and down his back.
“You don’t feel good, huh?” I murmured.
He shook his head against me.
My brave boy. Usually full of chatter, full of trucks and questions and snack demands, and now all he could manage was this small, miserable silence that felt wrong on him.
“Go home?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, rocking him gently. “We’re going, sweetheart.”
I signed whatever I needed to sign at the desk one-handed, my handwriting barely legible because Cai wouldn’t let go for long enough for me to do anything properly, and then I carried him back outside with both our bags bumping awkwardly against my hip.
It wasn’t far. I’d told myself that when I chose this place, when I mapped out every route in my head between daycare, training, and home, knowing I could somehow control everything by keeping it within walking distance.
Right now, it didn’t feel close enough.
I started moving, my pace quicker than usual, my body already protesting from training, from lack of food, from the fact that I hadn’t stopped since before sunrise.
By the time our building came into view, my lungs burned and my arms ached from carrying him, but I barely registered it, surviving on minimal sleep, adrenaline, and that snack from Teddy. I pushed through the front door as I fumbled slightly with access to our apartment.
“No down. Snuggle, snuggle,” he whimpered when I tried to shift his weight on me.
“Okay,” I whispered, already sinking onto the couch with him still in my arms. “No down.”
Leaning back, I kept him against me, one hand moving slowly up and down his back as his breathing hitched and settled in uneven waves, battling with my own exhaustion too.
“Mommy snuggle,” he whispered, right before he threw up all down my back. My eyes squeezed shut as I held him close as he slowly stopped, his body sagging against mine again.
There was no one to pass him to, no one to call for towels while I held him. No one to say ‘I’ve got him, go clean up’. It was just me, my sick baby, and the reality that this was my life.
So, I swallowed the lump in my throat, pressed my cheek to his hot forehead, and whispered, “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”