I completely forgot that I wouldn't be able to get any signal in the elevator, so the line was cut off.

As I was rushing towards my car, I tried calling Owen again but there was no answer.

What happened to Noah?

What if Owen thought I hung up on him? Abandoned him when he needed me?

I sped back to Marysville and cursed all the way, trying to get through to Owen's phone.

All kinds of possible scenarios flashed through my mind. The way he said it, that tone...

No, nothing could've happened to Noah.

Not my baby.

Not again.

I had no idea where they were, but my gut told me that they would be at the Marysville hospital. So I stepped on it all the way there. 

For some reason, the traffic in Marysville is bad today, especially when I was nearing the hospital. So a forty-minute drive took almost two hours.

A storm rages inside me now, and my stomach churns with fear.

I should've stayed. I should've stayed.

I SHOULD'VE STAYED.

These three words keep replaying in my head like a mantra.

Now, I'm running through the hospital like a madwoman, trying again and again to call Owen. 

Left with no choice, I sprint to the counter and ask the nurses in a labored breath.

"Is there a Noah Zanders here? He's a three-year-old boy, has blonde hair and green eyes. Please!!! Hurry!!!"

"Please hold on, miss. Oh yes, Noah Zanders. He's in the emergency ward. Are you-"

But I'm already flying off. I find the place and hurry in, immediately spotting Noah lying in one of the hospital beds with a ghastly pale complexion.

"Noah!!!"

My surroundings face away; there's only Noah in my eyes. 

I rush towards my little beanie, my sweet little boy.

My hands move on their own, tracing his face, his chest, his arms. 

But he doesn't react. 

No, no, no, no, no.

Don't take him away from me too.

Haven't you taken enough from me!?

Why? WHY!?

My lips tremble and tears pool in my eyes, a sob building in my chest.

I'm about to be completely destroyed beyond saving, when I notice the up and down movements of his chest.

And it's like the world is bestowing me life's greatest gift: life itself.

My body is invigorated once again and I vow to myself there and then, that I would never again take those tiny chest movements for granted.

"Oh God, thank you! Thank you!" I clutch onto the sheets and watch his chest moving.

"Mommy's here. Mommy's here, my baby. Mommy's so sorry... so so sorry. It's all mommy's fault."

I start crying as I bury my face into the crook of his neck, trying to find comfort in knowing he's still alive.

Alive.

That's right, my baby is alive.

"Are you the child's mother?" A voice pulls me out of my state of distress.

I reluctantly turn around to see a nurse. Wiping my tears, I calm myself before talking. "Yes, I am. How is my son? What happened?"

"Your son only suffered minor injuries, but he's still in shock and needs to rest. They were in an accident, Mrs. Zanders. But luckily they were admitted almost immediately."

"They?"

Everything comes to a standstill, even the particles in the air stop vibrating.

"Yes. Your husband and son were involved in an accident just a few blocks away from here earlier this morning. Didn't the nurse who called you tell you that?"

"W-What? Where is he?! Where's my husband?!?" I shout at her, trepidation seizing my heart for the second time.

"Mrs. Zanders, he was in a critical condition when he was brought in and just underwent an emergency operation. He's still not in the clear yet so we transferred him to the ICU."

Emptiness. 

That's what it feels like.

A cavernous pit in my chest. 

Sheer emptiness.

I clutch at my chest as I choke out my words, another wave of devastation cresting above me. "N-No... Owen... My husband? It can't be..."

He called me. He was fine.

No. What if... What if he called me because he was afraid for Noah...?

Afraid that no one would be there for his son after he...

No! Nothing is going to happen to him. 

He will be fine.

I refuse to believe that God can be this cruel.

Giving me happiness only to take it away.

Tears trickle down my cheeks again, as I shake my head in denial. My legs lose their strength and I stumble back against Noah's cot, struggling to draw air into my lungs.

Maybe I don't want to.

Because a life without Owen isn't worth living.

No I can't think like that! 

Noah still needs me and I swore to be there for him whenever he does.

"Mrs. Zanders, do you want to stay here with your son or go to the ICU?"

"I..."

They both need me. 

"Mommy?"

At the sound of Noah's tired voice, I whirl around.

"Yes, yes! Mommy's here! Oh my baby! How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere? Do you need any-"

"Mommy, where is daddy? I t-think daddy w-was h-hurt..."

His half-lidded eyes look at me with worry, and the pain intensifies in my heart, spreading everywhere until I have to grip the bed frame to steady myself.

What should I tell him?

"I'm sorry Mrs. Zanders, I have to check on him again."

I give way to her, taking a moment to reel back my emotions and be what they need.

A pillar of strength.

"Just a few scrapes and bruises. Your son was very lucky." The nurse reassures me.

"What exactly happened? How did the accident happen?"

"I'm not very sure. But your husband must have borne the worst of it."

The air in my lungs remain thin, and I feel lightheaded but I have to stay strong for us all.

"Baby, mommy is going to help daddy come back okay? Stay here and rest. Mommy will come back with daddy soon."

But he's already fallen asleep.

************

I'm sitting by Owen's hospital bed in the ICU.

Tubes are attached to him as well as an oxygen mask.

He's in a coma now.

The doctors said the operation went well and to hope he can wake up within the next hour or so.

And I pray like I never have.

I don't beg to be taken instead of him, or wish that I could replace him. 

No, because I never want Noah or him to go through what I'm going through, ever.

So I pray that all three of us remain safe. Alive. 

Together.

I don't move to wipe the tears streaming down my cheeks as I look at Owen.

Cuts and bruises cover his body. A bandage is wrapped around his head, where the most damage is.

I was informed that a construction site nearby collapsed and crushed the car. He would've died on the spot if the car was a couple more inches in front.

Why do bad things happen even to good people?

If he doesn't wake up soon, I'm afraid he never will, like in all the movies.

I rest my forehead against my tightly clasped hands and pray.

Suddenly, I receive a call from an unknown number. I pick it up, expecting that it's from Zanders enterprise.

"Hello, is this Cyra Jones?"

I wipe my wet cheeks and suck in a deep breath. "Yes. This is she." My voice sounds hoarse from crying.

"I'm Ms. Denver from Zanders enterprise HR department. I was informed that you were here this morning but left soon after. Is there a reason?"

"Yes. I'm really sorry. There was an emergency and I-" I stop short, feeling sadness wash over me.

His own subordinates don't have a clue what he's going through now. Would they be worried? Sad? Or both?

The company already lost their founders, wouldn't losing their founders' son as well be too cruel?

"Ms. Jones? Are you there?" 

I'm dragged out of my sorrow for a moment. "Yes... I'm sorry."

"Since it was an emergency, we'll let it pass as long as you submit the evidence. Would three days be enough for you? You can start on Thursday."

Silence drags on as everything becoming crystal clear.

I know what to do now.

************

I alternate between accompanying Noah and visiting Owen.

The former has been moved to a single ward room and has no idea his father is still unconscious.

I gave myself a time limit of three days before telling him. Right now, all he has to know is that his father is recuperating.

And I'm grateful that he trusts me.

Time ticks by too slowly, or is it too fast?

Because it has been three days, and the chances of him waking up become slimmer with each precious passing second.

I don't want to accept the hard truth, but how can I not when it's right before my eyes?

The doctors said if he doesn't wake up by the end of the night, then...

I crumbled right in the middle of the corridor when they told me that they'd have to take him off the breathing machine.

He looks so serene now, like he's sleeping. 

Even as I cling to the last ray of hope, I know some things are inevitable.

"I owe you something I should've given you the moment you called me fireheart. Or maybe even way before that." I find myself speaking to his unmoving form.

I breathe in deeply, and begin.

"Three years ago, I was pregnant."

I imagine if Owen were awake, he wouldn't look at me with judgement. He'd take my hand in his and wait for me to continue, those green eyes gazing at me gently.

Tears prick behind my eyes and I take a moment to gather myself before uttering the words I've never said out loud.

"I killed my baby."

Even when I told my parents and Rayla about it, I only ever said that I lost the baby, never this.

So once I've said it aloud, I'm like a broken record.

I repeat those four words more times than I can count as the tears pooled in the rims of my eyes threaten to escape.

I refuse to let those tiny spheres of weakness fall, because I must not break.

Even so, a treacherous droplet spills from the corner of my eye, trailing down my cheek.

"That's why I'm scared, Owen. I'm scared I'll hurt Noah, and you. You were right that time when you said I'm reckless. I put my child in danger, and my child died. What if I'm the reason for this too?"

I take in a shaky breath, fighting back tears.

"But I've realized something. The feeling when I'm with you... I didn't know what it was before, but now I do."

I reach out with trembling hands to take his unresponsive one, squeezing lightly.

"It's the feeling of home."

The tears fall freely now, and I lower my face into our entwined hands. "So please... come back to us. To me." 

I whisper to him, to anyone who is listening out there. "I can't do this without you. What about Noah? How can you leave him without a father too? And you said you'd wait for me. So why aren't you waiting? I'm the one waiting for you! Y-Y-You should be a-ashamed!"

Those rivulets of salt continue gushing down my face onto his hand in mine, soaking the bed as well.

"You're s-such a liar, Owen." My lips curl back as a violent sob racks through me.

"I won't run anymore! I'll give myself to you fully! So please just come back! You said you would never leave me! I'm holding you on to that, y-you j-jerk!"

And his hand in mine jerks.

Only subtly but it felt like a jolt of electricity went through our entwined fingers.

"O-Owen?" My whisper seems to initiate another twitch and hope swells within me.

But he doesn't wake up.

"Owen...  I l-love you... So m-much it hurts... And I'm s-sorry it took me so long to accept that... But p-please don't do t-this to m-me..."

"You love me?" comes a weak voice.

And I scream for the doctors and nurses like a lunatic.