Fifteen

Judson

I stay by McKenzie's bed for a long time, holding her hand. She sleeps for a while, and I'm content to sit there and listen to her easy breathing.

My other hand stays on the bassinet they wheeled in right after me. My nephew is healthy but tiny. He's wrapped tightly in a blanket, and a blue hat is on his head.

When McKenzie wakes, her free hand immediately moves to cover her belly, and her eyes widen. "Where's my baby?"

"Right here." I motion to the bassinet beside me. "He's sleeping. They said to let him stay that way for a while. But if you want to hold him, I'll get him for you."

"I've waited almost ten months. Hell, yes, I want to hold him."

"Okay, but I'm pretty sure you don't want his first words to be curse words," I tease, letting go of her so I can reach for the bassinet.

"Support his head," she says.

"I know how to hold a baby." Still, when I pick him up, he feels so breakable that I want to put him down immediately in case I hurt him by accident.

"Oh my god, he's so little," McKenzie breathes once he's safely in her arms. "Look at his tiny nose."

"I know. It's a good thing he got the donor's nose instead of yours."

She throws me a half-hearted glare. "I just had a huge surgery, and you're already here with the insults?"

"I've been holding it in ever since I first saw him. Besides, I want him to know early on how to insult a sibling."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a fondness in her expression she's only ever had when she's looking at me.

"It's nice that you named him after Dad," I say, reaching out to touch my nephew's head. "He would've liked that."

"Yeah." She stares down at Bryce for a long second before glancing up at me. "His full name is Bryce Judson Clark."

My heart squeezes inside my chest. "You named him after me too?"

"Yeah, but that was before I knew you were going to insult me first thing."

"If I'd known you were going to name him after me, I would've saved the insult for a little later."

She smiles and reaches out to touch my cheek. "I love you. I'm so glad you were here for this."

"I would never have missed it."

She pulls her hand back to her son but keeps her gaze on me. "Were you waiting alone out there?"

"No." My hand warms at the memory of River sitting there with me, keeping our fingers laced together for hours. "River was there. One of his friends here texted him."

She studies my face for a long minute. "What happened between you two? You were spending so much time together, and then nothing."

"We don't need to talk about that. We should be focusing on you."

"Trust me, you're going to be focusing on me for the next several weeks. We can talk about you for a minute."

I keep my gaze on Bryce as I start talking, marveling at how something so innocent can exist in the same world as people like Ian.

"We had an argument because he doesn't think I'm coping well enough about our time at Ian's place."

"Is he wrong?"

I don't know why she bothers asking when she already knows the answer. "No."

"Then why aren't you two speaking to each other?"

"It's…it's not like I'm the one not speaking to him." When she cuts me a look, I sigh. "I can't force myself to think differently, Kenz. I'm really glad that River's doing well with therapy, but I don't see how it'll work for me."

She doesn't look convinced, so I tell her about meeting Ian at the party, but not what he said about ruining River. There are things she doesn't need to know. It's easier telling her than it was to tell River, but she's not as calm about it as he was.

"I'm so glad he's dead," she seethes. "If he were still alive, you'd be raising Bryce because I'd be doing twenty-five to life somewhere."

"McKenzie—"

"And you need to let it go."

Irritation prickles under my skin. "It's not that easy."

"When did I ever say it was going to be easy? If it were easy, you wouldn't be dragging your feet about doing it."

"I'm not—"

"You are," she interrupts. "You need help dealing with all of it, and you know that. But you've never shied away from doing something that was hard. So what's stopping you from doing this?"

My throat feels too tight to answer her. How can I explain all of it?

"Judson." Her voice softens, and I realize I don't have to explain it at all. She's always known things before I had to tell her. "It's not your fault. You deserve to feel peace too. Not just from River, but a genuine peace on your own."

"I don't know how to do that," I admit. It sounds like such a simple action—to find peace. But it's not. I've spent the last six years telling myself that I didn't deserve anything different than what I'd started to live with. I don't know how I'm supposed to just rid myself of all those thoughts.

Bryce stirs in her arms, and she glances down at him. "You should hold him."

"No, you've—"

She doesn't give me the chance to finish. She turns on the hospital bed and holds him out to me. I lift my hands instinctively to catch him even though I know she wouldn't let him drop if I didn't.

When his warm weight is tucked safely in my hands, I pull him close to my chest. He makes a soft noise every time he breathes out.

"There are people out there who kidnap babies just to hurt them," McKenzie says. "Completely innocent babies who are hurt just because someone saw them and wanted to cause them pain."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I know what you're trying to do."

"No, I don't think you do." Her voice grows firmer, fiercer. "If my son is ever hurt because some creep saw him and wanted him, are you going to tell him it was his fault somehow?"

"Of course not." The very idea makes my chest clench.

"What if he was at a party? What if he was out having fun with friends, living his life, when he should've been shut up in his room because that was safer? How long is my son supposed to blame himself for something that someone else did to him, something he had no control over? A year? Five years?"

"I don't want to think about that."

"Neither do I. But that's what happened to you. You were innocent, Judson, and he took that away from you."

I lower my gaze to the baby sleeping in my arms because I don't want her to see the wetness in my eyes. I know all of that on a logical level. But I've held onto this for so long, that it feels too huge to let go of. I haven't known anything else for so long.

"I'm scared," I admit in a whisper.

"I know," she says softly. "But you're stronger than him. You always have been. I know you can do this. And you won't be alone. I'll be with you every step of the way."

I nod quickly, before my brain can catch up and tell me that I don't deserve to feel better. Don't deserve to have McKenzie's support.

I'm scared of talking to anyone about Ian, but I'm tired of hurting all the time. I spent the last six years just surviving; I'm ready to try letting go.