Page 12 of The Space He Left
"You're being an asshole about someone who's fighting for her life."
"When was the last time you went to one of Harper's doctor appointments? When was the last time you had dinner with your wife, or even talked to her without rushing off to Madison?"
The questions hit too close to home, and I felt my temper flare. "Harper understands what I'm doing. She supports it."
"Harper is seven months pregnant and she's trying to be the perfect supportive wife. But, Jack, she shouldn't have to be."
"Madison needs me."
"Harper needs you, too. And unlike Madison, Harper actually has a right to need you."
The words stung because they were true, but I couldn't let myself believe them. "Madison is fighting cancer, Sam. Harper is pregnant. They're not comparable."
"You're right. They're not. Harper chose to have a baby with you, as your wife."
"She doesn't have anyone else."
"That's not your responsibility to fix. Not at this cost."
"I have to go," I said.
"Jack, wait."
"No, Sam. Madison needs me, and I'm not going to abandon her."
"What about Harper? Are you okay with abandoning her?"
I hung up without answering that question.
When I went back into the hotel room, Madison was sitting up in bed, looking more like herself.
"Everything okay?" she asked. "You look upset."
"Just some problems at work. Nothing I can't handle."
"I'm sorry I'm causing so many complications in your life."
"You're not causing anything."
She kissed my cheek as I left, a gesture that was meant to be innocent but felt dangerously familiar. It was a piece of my past trying to reclaim a place it no longer had, and I found myself pulling away, my thoughts already on the road home to Harper - my real life, my future.
The drive home took me past the community center where birthing classes were held. The building was dark now, the parking lot empty. Class had ended hours ago while I was sitting in Madison's hotel room, holding her hand through another crisis.
Harper should have been in there with me tonight, learning how to welcome our daughter together. Instead, she'd probably gone alone or skipped it entirely, making excuses for my absence to the other couples.
I thought about the ultrasound appointment. The first one I'd ever missed. Harper had shown me the photo on the fridge when I got home, excited to share how much our daughter had grown. But my mind was still on Madison's treatment schedule and her next appointment.
Pete's words echoed in my head:This family emergency isn't Harper?
But Madison was dying. Madison was alone. Madison needed me in ways that Harper, surrounded by love and support, simply didn't.
At least, that's what I told myself as I drove past the empty community center and headed home to my wife, who was probably asleep in our bed, dreaming about the daughter we were about to welcome together. The daughter I was supposed to be preparing for, instead of sitting in hotel rooms, holding another woman's hand.
I pushed the guilt away and focused on the road ahead. Tomorrow would bring another treatment, another crisis, another emergency that only I could handle.
And I would be there for Madison, no matter what anyone else thought. Because that's what you did for people you cared about
Chapter 5
