Page 62 of Almost Ours
He was okay.
I needed to breathe that in.
The cold hospital tile bit at my bare feet as I stepped into the hallway, everything was dimly lit, quiet in the way only hospitals could be.
I pressed Ryan’s name on my screen.
He answered after one ring. Like he’d been waiting.
“Hey.”
His voice was thick with sleep, rough around the edges, and guilt pricked at me.
“Did you just fall asleep? Did I wake you?”
“No.” A soft shuffle, like he was sinking deeper into his pillow. “You okay?”
I let out a slow breath, pressing my back against the wall. The cool tile grounded me, though Ryan’s voice was what steadied me.
“I don’t even know what to say.” My voice wavered. “I don’t even know how to thank you for what you did.”
“Harper…”
I closed my eyes. “You saved him.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, firmly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Tears burned at the back of my throat.
He meant it. I could hear it in every syllable.
“He’s a great kid,” Ryan continued, voice warm, steady. “And you’re a great mom.”
A small, watery laugh escaped. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
The quiet stretched between us. Not awkward. Just… full.
I let my head rest against the wall. “You should get some sleep.”
“You should too.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Not happening.”
Ryan chuckled, and the sound settled something deep inside me. “I should’ve guessed.”
We talked a little longer, the conversation shifting from the weight of the night to easier things.
“Try to rest, okay?”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Goodnight, Harper.”
I hung up, staring at my phone for a beat longer than necessary. Then I pushed off the wall and slipped back into the room.
Connor was exactly as I left him–curled up, peaceful,alive.
