Page 16 of The Space He Left
Inside, I sat at the kitchen table, looking at the ultrasound photo I'd put on the refrigerator. Our daughter's profile was clearly visible, her tiny features perfectly formed. My phone buzzed with a text from Jack:Madison's treatment ran late. Staying overnight to make sure she's okay. See you tomorrow. I love you.
I stared at the message, recalling how I'd anticipated this, had already told everyone that Jack would be staying over with Madison tonight, hours before he even sent the text. Madison needed him. I understood that. But I needed him too, and lately it felt like Madison's needs always came first.
I texted back:Okay. Love you.
I went upstairs to the nursery. Jack and I had painted it together months ago, back when his biggest worry was whether we'd chosen the right shade of yellow for the walls. Now it was nearly complete, decorated with the furniture we'd picked out together, the mobile I'd chosen, the books I'd been collecting.
I sat in the rocking chair Jack had assembled one weekend, my hand on my belly, feeling our daughter's strong kicks. She was active tonight, as if she could sense my mood. "Your daddy's helping someone," I whispered to her. "He's a good man, baby girl. He helps people when they need it most."
The words felt true, but they also felt incomplete. Jack was a good man who helped people. But he was also my husband, and he was missing so much of this pregnancy, so much of our final preparation for parenthood.
I thought about Sam's kindness tonight, how he'd noticed my exhaustion and immediately stepped in to help. How he'd created a special drink just for me, given us space for themeeting, and driven me home when I was too tired to drive safely. The contrast between Sam's attentiveness and Jack's absence wasn't lost on me.
The baby kicked again, strong and insistent, and I smiled despite everything. Soon, she'd be here. Soon, I'd hold her in my arms instead of just feeling her movements. And maybe, by then, Jack would have figured out how to be present for both of us.
I hoped so.
Chapter 6
Jack
Iarrived at Madison's hotel earlier than expected, having finished the morning site inspection ahead of schedule. The key card she'd given me slid smoothly into the lock, and I pushed open the door, expecting to find her resting after yesterday's treatment.
Instead, I found Madison in the middle of what looked like an intense workout routine. She was wearing athletic leggings and a sports bra, her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail, sweat glistening on her skin as she moved through a series of burpees. Her laptop was open on the desk, displaying what appeared to be a fitness video.
She spun around when she heard the door, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Jackie! You're early." She grabbed a towel from the bed, quickly wiping the sweat from her face. "I was just... the doctors said I needed to try to stay active. Exercise is supposed to help with the treatment side effects."
I stared at her, confused. Yesterday, she'd been too weak to walk to the bathroom without help. Now she was doing burpees with the energy of someone training for the Olympics.
"You look... really good," I said carefully. "Much stronger than yesterday."
"It comes and goes," she said quickly, pulling on an oversized hoodie that hid her athletic wear. "Some days are better than others. Today's been a good day so far."
Madison moved closer, her expression shifting to the vulnerable look I'd grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.
"I'm so glad you're here early," she said, reaching for my hand. "I was starting to feel scared again. You know how it is."
And just like that, the confident woman I'd glimpsed as I walked in disappeared, replaced by the fragile, dependent Madison who needed me for everything. The transformation was so complete that I wondered if I'd imagined what I'd seen.
"How are you feeling about today's appointment?" I asked, still trying to reconcile the two versions of Madison I'd just witnessed.
"Terrified," she whispered, and the fear in her voice seemed genuine enough. "What if the treatment isn't working? What if the cancer is spreading?"
We made our way to the hospital, Madison clinging to my arm like she could barely walk. As we waited for the elevator, an older woman with kind eyes smiled at us warmly.
"How long have you two been married?" she asked, her voice gentle with the familiarity of someone who'd spent too much time in hospitals.
I opened my mouth to correct her, but before I could speak, my phone rang. Pete's name flashed on the screen.
"I need to take this," I said to the woman, stepping slightly away. "What's up?"
"Jack, we've got another problem. The Miller job." Pete's voice was tight with frustration. "The client is threatening to cancel the contract. Something about delays and lack of communication."
"What kind of delays?"
"The permits you were supposed to file last week never got submitted. I've been trying to handle it, but Mrs. Miller specifically wants to speak with you. She's questioning whether we can complete the job on time."
