Chapter 7 - The Night Oliver Got Sick
Oliver developed a high fever in the middle of February.
Clare called Ethan at 2:13 in the morning.
She had not intended to.
But Oliver was crying, the thermometer showed 103.8, and panic had made her hands unsteady.
Ethan answered on the first ring.
“Clare?”
“Oliver is sick.”
“I am coming.”
He arrived fourteen minutes later in a coat thrown over sweatpants.
No driver.
No assistant.
No security detail.
He carried a small first-aid kit and looked terrified.
At the emergency clinic, the doctor explained it was a viral infection. Oliver would recover, but he needed fluids, rest, and close attention.
Clare sat beside the hospital bed while Oliver slept.
Ethan sat on the other side.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Finally, Clare said, “You came quickly.”
“I will always come.”
She looked at him.
“You cannot say always.”
“I know.”
“Then do not.”
Ethan nodded.
“I will come as long as I am able. And if I cannot, I will make sure you know why.”
Clare looked down at Oliver.
That was a more honest promise than Ethan had ever made her.
At dawn, Oliver woke and reached weakly toward Ethan.
“Daddy.”
Ethan froze.
Clare’s eyes filled.
Oliver had heard the word from other children. He had begun asking questions. Clare had told him Ethan was his father, but that families could look different.
Now he had chosen the word himself.
May you like
Ethan took Oliver’s hand gently.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Daddy is here.”
