“Mr. Campbell, meet your son,” she says before placing the baby in my arms. She smiles and leaves the room, but I hardly notice. He is perfect. He has chunky face that is scrunched up while he slept. On top of his head is a dark patch of hair, just like Brooke’s.

“Hello, Cahal. It’s me, your daddy,” I whisper as I gently bounced him in my arms.

“Is he okay?” Brooke croaks.

I glance down at her sleepy eyes staring at my arms. I smile down at her. “He’s perfect.”

I reach out to brush tendrils of hair off her face. “You did good.” I crouch down so she can see his face.

Brooke smiles at him and rubbed his cheek with her pointer finger. “He’s beautiful,” she rasps, her eyes drooping again.

“Yeah, just like his mom,” I say, but Brooke had already fallen back asleep.

“Cahal, you have the most beautiful and kindhearted mother a man could ever ask for,” I say as I sit down in the corner, content to watch the two people I love most in this world sleep.

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Goodbye

Brooke

The hospital keeps the baby and me for five days. The nurses would come in to check on us frequently, helping me to feed and change the baby. I fight sleeping, but that seems to be all my body wanted to do. Landon stays with me most of the time. He went home to shower last night, and I insisted he stay home and get a goodnight sleep before he brings us home in the morning.

Dr. Goodmin insists on seeing me so he can get me back on my medication. His hope is to get me back on the transplant list as soon as possible. I manage to have him come in on my third day here, when Landon have a business meeting he cannot miss. Even though Dr. Goodmin tries to remain as positive as he can when telling me my prognosis, I know it is not as hopeful as he tried to make it seem. I need a new liver. I am not going to get one. I am going to die. Those are the facts, and taking the medicine would only prolong the process of dying. I have the prescription filled anyway, deciding I am going to have a long slow death.

Six days after my son’s birth, Landon shows up with a wheelchair and a goofy grin on his face.

“No!” I say immediately and his grin falls.

“Come on, I’m just going to push you to the car. It’s not that far, don’t you trust me?” He pouts his lower lip.

“Trust you? No. Not with that mischievous look in your eyes.”

Landon gives a mock gasp. “There is no mischievous look.”