Three weeks passed before the doctors and nurses informed me it was time for Talon and me to go home. It took me over two hours to make sure the car seat was installed properly, along with having five different nurses check to make sure it was securely fastened.

I’d never driven so slowly in my life, and every time I turned to check on Talon, she was sleeping peacefully.

I’m going to fuck this up.

I knew I would. I knew nothing about being a father. I knew nothing about taking care of a child. Jane would’ve been great at it. Sure, she never wanted children, but she was a perfectionist. She would’ve taught herself to become the best mother in the world. She would’ve been the better option when it came to one of us caring for Talon.

My having her felt like a cruel mistake.

“Shh,” I tried to soothe her as I carried the car seat into the house. She’d started crying the moment I took her out of the car, and my gut was tightened with nerves.

Is she hungry? Does she need a diaper change? Is she too hot? Too cold? Did she just miss an inhale? Are her lungs strong enough? Will she even make it through the night?

Once Talon was in her crib, I sat on the floor beside it. Any time she moved, I was up on my feet, checking on her. Any time she didn’t shift, I was up on my feet, checking on her.

I’m going to fuck this up.

The doctors were wrong. I knew they were. They shouldn’t have sent her home yet. She wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. She was too small, and my hands were too big.

I’d hurt her.

I’d make a mistake that would cost Talon her life.

I can’t do this.

Pulling out my cell phone, I made a call to the number I’d been calling for weeks. “Jane, it’s me, Graham. I just wanted to let you know…Talon’s home. She’s okay. She’s not going to die, Jane, and I just wanted to let you know that. You can come home now.” My grip on the phone was tight, my voice stern. “Come home. Please. I can’t…I can’t do this without you. I can’t do this alone.”

It was the same message I’d left her multiple times since the moment the doctors told me Talon was going to be discharged. But still, Jane never came back.

That night was the hardest night of my life.

Every time Talon started screaming, I couldn’t get her to stop. Every time I picked her up, I was terrified I’d break her. Every time I fed her and she wouldn’t eat, I worried about her health. The pressure was too much. How could someone so small rely on me as her life support?

How was a monster supposed to raise a child?

Lucy’s question from the last time I saw her played over and over again in my head.

Who hurt me so bad and made me so cold?

The ‘who’ part was easy.

It was the reason that was blurred.

Eleventh Birthday

The boy stood still in the darkened hallway, unsure if his father wanted him to be noticed. He’d been home alone for some time that night, and felt safer when he was the only one there. The young boy was certain his father would come home intoxicated, because that was what the past had taught him. What he wasn’t certain of was which drunken version would walk through the front door this time.

Sometimes his father was playful, other times, extremely cruel.

His father would come home so cruel that the boy would oftentimes close his eyes at night and convince himself that he’d made up the actions of the drunken man, telling himself his father would never be so cold. He’d tell himself no person could hate his own flesh and blood so much—even with the aid of alcohol.

Yet the truth of the matter was, sometimes the ones we loved most were the monsters that tucked us in at night.

“Come here, son,” the grown man called, making the boy stand up taller. He hurried himself into the living room where he spotted his father sitting with a woman. The father grinned as the woman’s hands rested in his hold. “This,” he said, his eyes light, practically shining, “is Rebecca.”

The woman was beautiful with chocolate hair that fell against her shoulders and a slender nose that fit perfectly between her brown doe eyes. Her lips were full and painted red, and when she smiled, she kind of reminded the boy of his mother.

“Hello there,” Rebecca said softly, her voice brimming with kindness and misplaced trust. She extended her hand toward the boy. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

The boy stayed at a distance, uncertain of what he should say or feel.

“Well,” his father scolded. “Shake her hand. Say hello, son.”

“Hello,” the boy said in a whisper, as if he was worried he was walking into his father’s trap.

“Rebecca is going to be my new wife, your new mother.”

“I have a mother,” the boy barked, his voice louder than he meant it to be. He cleared his throat and returned to his whispering sounds. “I have a mom.”

“No,” his father corrected. “She left us.”

“She left you,” the boy argued. “Because you’re a drunk!” He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but he also knew how much his heart hurt thinking that his mother would walk out on him, leaving him with the monster. His mother loved him—he was certain of that. One day she just got too scared, and that fear had driven her away.

He often wondered if she realized she’d left him behind.

He often prayed she’d come back some day.

His father sat up straighter, and his hands formed fists. As he was about to snap at his loud-mouthed son, Rebecca placed her hand on his shoulder, soothing him. “It’s okay. This is a new situation for all of us,” she said, moving her hands to rub his back. “I’m not here to replace your mom. I know she meant a lot to you, and I’d never want to take her place. But, I am hoping that someday, you’ll somehow find a place for me in your heart, too, because that’s the thing about hearts—when you think they’re completely full, you somehow find room to add a little more love.”

The boy remained silent, unsure what he should say. He could still see the anger in his father’s eyes, but something about Rebecca’s touch kept him calm. She seemed to be the beauty that somehow tamed the beast.

For that reason alone, the boy secretly hoped she’d stay the night, and perhaps the morning, too.