Broken_ Broken #1 - A. E. Murphy Page 0,134

my son with both hands. He stretches in that cute way that only babies can stretch and lets out a little yelp. He’s not happy being moved. Grumpy boy.

Carefully I climb back into bed and prop the pillows up behind me. Nathan, who is asleep to my right, instantly rolls back into me and wraps his arm around my middle.

His bare hand grabs at my flesh as if scared I’ll move again.

As much as I want to be angry at his assumption that I want to share a bed with him, I can’t because his assumption is true. I don’t want to be alone right now.

Actually… he probably doesn’t care if I want him here or not. This is him telling me he wants in my bed so he’ll get in my bed.

Still, I can’t force myself to be angry.

When Dillan has finished his feed, I lay him on the bed between myself and Nathan and roll onto my side. My face is level with Nathan’s. He looks so peaceful while sleeping. He really has been my rock.

I’ll never be able to repay him for all he’s done for me.

Leaning forward slightly, I press my lips to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open immediately and his lips part. He looks at me curiously for a moment, as if trying to work out my intentions.

Then his hand comes up and rests on my cheek. I hear him inhale a shuddering breath as his thumb swipes over my lower lip. Something between us connects, clicks, falls into place. Without removing his gaze from my eyes, he leans forward and runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of mine.

His hand strokes my cheek and neck before his thumb rubs a circle on my pulse. He looks at me like he can’t believe I’m real. I look at him and try to tell him how grateful I am with my eyes. How much he’s worth and how much he deserves to be happy.

“Go to sleep, Gwen,” he whispers, his breath minty and sweet.

My son is lifted to his chest. He cradles Dillan softly and presses his lips to his wrinkled forehead. Dillan lets out a squawk when Nathan places him in his bed, tucks him in tight and climbs over me to get back to his side.

I turn towards him, something I’ve never done before, and wrap my arm around his bare chest. He squeezes me tight and lets out a sigh of contentment.

I don’t wake up again until eight the next morning and both my son and Nathan have vanished, only to be found wandering around on the ground floor having a one sided conversation that I can’t hear.

Looking at them together, looking at Nathan with Dillan, I can’t help but be relieved and admit that my fears are gone. Caleb might not be here, but right now, we’re not alone.

******

“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly after walking into the nursery and watching Nathan with Dillan to his chest. His gloves are off and Dillan is drooling on Nathan’s skin, yet I’ve never seen Nathan look so content. It’s been eating at me for a couple of days now, since Dillan was born. Nathan has an issue with germs but recently he’s been wearing his gloves less and less.

Nathan blinks up at me, seeming to slowly come out of a daze. “What’s wrong?” The chair on which he sits continues rocking slowly. His ankle is resting on the top of his other leg, which gently pushes the chair back and forth.

I walk over to him and sit on the padded arm, looking down at them both, my heart singing with happiness at the sight. As much as it hurts that Caleb can’t be here for this, I’m glad to see that my grief hasn’t fully gone to waste. Seeing Nathan look so peaceful and happy fills that hole in my chest a small amount. Enough to make the days go by easier.

“You rarely wear your gloves anymore,” I whisper, my fingers stroking the back of his longish hair. He leans back and closes his eyes, as if seeking out my touch. “I’ve been wondering whether to mention it or not. I’ve been worried I’ll trigger the need or something.”

His irises peek from beneath hooded lids. “I don’t know why.” A small smile touches his lips and I want to trace it with my thumb but I don’t. “When you had him, I got covered in more fluids

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