Less than a week later, I was allowed to go home.

The first thought was ‘home to what?’ Then I thought of Justin and Patrick. They’d helped me more than they’d ever know.

Of course, Justin and I had one of our infamous fights in my hospital room only a few hours before my release. It was my mistake to tell him to search in the drawer of my desk from home for my documents so we could legalize everything for Peanut.

In his quest for my documents, he found the letters I’d written so long ago for him and Munchkin, not knowing if I was going to make it after having Patrick.

When Justin stepped into my room that day, he looked more green that in the past few days. My first thought was Peanut, then he stomped to my side and slapped me so hard my ears started ringing. We’d never used physical violence during our fights.

Next, he pushed some crumpled papers to my chest, fisting his hands to his sides. “You absolute asshole!”

“What the fuck, Sunshine?” I rubbed my cheek, gingerly, scanning the papers now on my lap. I recognized the letters in an instant. The ink was smudged by wet spots, most likely from his tears. “Shit.”

“Shit doesn’t begin to cover this! Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? I didn’t sleep the whole night, remembering the horrible time when you gave birth to Munchkin! It wasn’t enough you’d gone behind my back with the Will and making me your POA, you also wrote these… these things…” He gestured wildly, tears rolling down his cheek. “If you were next to me last night, I’d have punched you. I swear to God. You should be happy you were safe here.”

“Look, Justin…”

“No, you look!” He jabbed a finger at my chest. “You seriously thought you were going to die, didn’t you? You planned everything meticulously, leaving everything in order…or so you thought. If something happened to you, do you think I’d be able to go on? Even if I’d tried for Munchkin, nothing would have been like before—NOTHING!”

“Justin, stop screaming,” I pleaded him. “I should have thrown these letters away, but I guess I forgot.”

“You forgot?” He roared. “You poured your fucking heart in them! I read them a thousand times, and each time I felt like you were dead. Every. Fucking. Time!”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!”

“Can you calm down? I’m right here, alive and well. We need to focus on Peanut now,” I rationalized, reaching to take his hand.

He took a couple steps back, glaring daggers. “I can’t fucking calm down!” He snatched the letters from my hand, clearing his throat. “You’re reading this in lieu of my early departure—I was too soon ripped from your life,” he quoted from the letter to Patrick, catching my eyes. “That ripped my heart into tiny shreds. Promise me to take care of daddy and don’t upset him. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it was for him to raise you alone. (Or maybe he found someone else?)” His eyes found mine again, filled with tears. “Or maybe you’d hit your head right before writing this abnormality! How do you think I’d find anyone else, Brian? I can’t imagine losing you, but thank you for making me think of that last night. I cried my heart out until I couldn’t produce any more tears.”

“Sunshine, what the fuck do you want me to say? I was desperate when I wrote these. Forget about them.” I got up from the bed. “Give them here. I’ll rip them in front of you.”

He hugged the papers to his chest, sobbing. “Don’t you dare touch them! This is you, right here in these words—it’s all you: beautiful, insecure, so honest it hurts, and showing me how much you love me in your own special way.”

I ran my hands through my hair. “Then what the fuck do you want me to do?”

“Give me a little heads up before you write me and your first born a suicide letter.”

“It isn’t a suicide letter. If I died giving birth to Munchkin, it would have been worth it. You’d have him…a part of me.”

Justin took a shuddering breath, sniffing loudly. “I have more.” He returned to the letters in his hands. “Stop crying. I know you’re crying. Have you stopped crying yet? I have something important to tell you: I love you.” He gave me a watery smile. “You know me too fucking well. I’d be a royal mess if something ever happened to you, you idiot!”

“I don’t want you to go through that, believe me. I still remember the nights I spent in front of your hospital room when you were in a coma.”

He shuffled closer, and I could breathe again.

I enveloped him in a tight hug, inhaling his scent. “Did you smoke?”

“I also found your weed stash, which I had no idea you still have…”

“It was there for emergencies.”

“It was an emergency,” he joked, kissing my throat. After a few moments, he chuckled. “Do you think it’s possible to have sex with a ghost?”

I snuggled him closer, laughing along. “We could have tried…”

“I’d rather have you alive and warm and very much solid.”

“Solid is another way to define my hard wood?” I laughed.

Crisis averted, we sat on the edge of my bed.

“By the way,” Justin murmured after a while. “You’d end up in Heaven.”

I couldn’t argue with him, not when he looked at me in that way like he knew better than anyone.

“I’ll keep these safe,” he whispered, smoothing the letters.

We sealed that deal with a deep, hungry kiss; interrupted by Dr. Hump’s visit. He eyed us warily.

“I was informed loud noises came from your room, Brian. They said it sounded like you were fighting, but I guess they were wrong.”

“This is the making-up part so if you’d be so kind to leave us in peace…” I winked, not lifting my head from Justin’s neck, where I was sucking and nipping, on my way to create a hickey.

“I’m sure making-up would be much better in your bed at home. I’m releasing you.”

“What? Why?” I gaped at him.

“My patients are usually happy when they hear about going home.”

“Brian’s not your usual patient,” Justin said gently, combing his fingers through my hair. “He’s special.” He kissed my cheek lovingly.

“Well, you can go home whether you want it or not.”

“What about Peanut?”

“She has to stay for at least another month. You have to understand, that even though she’s made it through her first week, she isn’t out of risk. She’s still too small and her immune system is developing as we speak. She’s better in here.”

Reluctantly, I accepted the situation. Even though, rationally, I knew Peanut was safer in the hospital, I felt like a shitty father to leave her all alone in that PICU and to go home. She was so tiny and always seemed to sense when I wasn’t near her.

The nurse monitoring Ruby let me know how fussy she got every time I returned to my room after spending many hours with her. I’d spent the last few days telling her everything about her family.

What would happen if I left the hospital?

What if she needed me exactly when I wasn’t there?

What if something worse happened in my absence?

I accepted my discharging with a heavy heart, and one tearful goodbye to Peanut.

“I’ll be back tomorrow bright early. You won’t be able to miss me,” I promised, gently stroking her arm. My eyes soaked into her every feature, memorizing every rise of her little chest, her eyes staring at me curiously, the softness of her skin.

“Sleep tight, baby. We’ll see you soon.” Justin touched the side of the incubator, before squeezing my shoulder.

Hand in hand we left her room. I willed myself to not look back or I’d never leave.

Justin drove in silence, deep in his thoughts. I sat slumped into the passenger seat, staring out the window and thinking of the little pink bundle I’d left at the hospital. Every cell in my body wanted to go back there.

“Everything is going to be okay.” Justin took my hand when we arrived at home.

“You don’t know that.”

“Brian, she’s our kid. We’re both survivors.”

“Whatever you say won’t make me feel any better, so you should stop.”

Justin lifted our joined hands to his lips. “I love you.”

I opened the door, sliding out, leading the way inside the house. I found Michael in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee.

He sprang to his feet when he saw us. “Patrick fell asleep a few minutes ago. How are you, Brian?”

I dodged his outstretched hands and eager smile, heading to the stairs. “I’m going to shower.”

I didn’t need anyone’s sympathy.

Whatever the outcome, I’d still blame myself. My freak of body graced me with this gift as everyone called it, only to take it away, nearly killing my precious Peanut. No one figured out exactly why my body rejected her, but Dr. Hump said premature births happened all the time. Obviously I didn’t care about others. Peanut was all that mattered to me.

I already missed her.

Fuck everything.

I couldn’t stay away from her, not without knowing if she was still breathing.

I was about to go back downstairs, having managed to reach our room, when Munchkin came out of his bedroom.

“Daddy!” He wrapped his arms around my legs, squeezing. “Nightmare.”

Shit.

Justin mentioned Patrick had bad dreams ever since I’d fainted on him.

“It’s okay, Sonny Boy. Tell me about it.” I steered him back to his room, shutting the door after us.

My fresh scar from the surgery hurt as I picked him up, depositing him on my lap when I sat on his bed, but it was the least of my concerns at the moment. Munchkin had nightmares because of me. What could be worse?

We lay on his bed, snuggled into each other. Patrick told me about his bad dream. It was about me not waking up—exactly what he’d seen a short week ago.

“I’m all right, Munchkin.” I hugged him tightly. “I’ll be around for a long time.”

“Promise?” He hiccupped, burrowing even closer.

I gulped nervously, not one to lie. “I promise.”

“And baby sis? Is she going to be okay?”

“I hope so.” I sniffed, pressed my face into his hair. I could smell my shampoo and remembered Justin telling about Munchkin’s tantrum about using my shampoo to feel closer to me. The kid was going to kill me one day with his mushiness.

We stayed quiet for a long time, so long I thought him asleep, but then he talked.

“Do you want to pray for baby sis?”

It was all it took to open my flood gates.

God knows how much I’d prayed in the past week; definitely more than I had in my whole life.

“Of course, Munchkin.”

“Is she really sick?”

“She’s very small. Uh, how do I explain it to you?” I swiped a hand under my nose. “Remember when you ripped the bud off dada’s rose bush?”

“Yeah, Dada was very upset.” He stared at me sadly.

“Imagine Ruby is that bud.”

“But the bud died, Daddy.”

“I hope like hell she’ll live.”

“Me too. I’ll protect her. I’m her big brother.”

“That you are, Munchkin.” I kissed his forehead softly.

The door opened abruptly to reveal a disheveled Justin. He sighed in relief when he spotted me. “I was sure you sneaked out and went back to the hospital.”

“That was my intention, but someone stopped me.” I shared a small smile with Patrick.

“Thanks, kiddo. We need to keep daddy home.” Justin sat next to us.

We shifted to make him room.

“But we can’t leave baby sis alone for too long, Dada. I’ll be a rubbish big brotha if we don’t visit every day.”

Justin caught my eye, shaking his head. “He’s too much like you.”

“Ain’t that a good thing?” I laughed.

Much later, when Munchkin fell asleep, we went to our room.

After my needed shower, I stood by Justin’s side in front of the mirror. He brushed his teeth, while I put my anti-aging cream to good use.

He spat, rinsing his mouth, catching my eye in the mirror. “You tired?”

I shrugged, focused on my task.

“Brian, I’m just as worried as you. Don’t close up. Talk to me.”

I capped the box. “There’s nothing to say, Justin.” I went to the bed with him hot on my heels. “Leave it be, will you?”

“I didn’t mean talk now. But talk to me, okay? When you are ready. I’m hurting too. You’re not alone in this.”

I cupped his cheeks, pressing my forehead to his. “I won’t burden you with how awful and insignificant and useless I feel.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “Not a word.”

He gulped thickly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you so much. You, Munchkin, and Peanut are everything to me, Brian. I can’t think of life without either of you.”

“Same here,” I whispered, kissing him. “Let’s sleep.”