Chapter 2: He Was Already Gone

Hours passed before footsteps flooded the hallway.

"Liam!"

Gwen crouched beside me. There was a thread of relief in her voice.

"The blood came through. They found a compatible donor. Andy's going to be fine."

I couldn't feel my body anymore.

"He's... gone," I mumbled.

Her face tightened, and she started clawing at the belt around my wrists, rough and careless.

"How long are you going to keep this up? I don't have time to explain everything right now."

"Pierce just got out of surgery, and he's in bad shape. I need to get back to him. He's a single dad with no one to look after him. What am I supposed to do, just leave him there alone?"

She couldn't get the knot undone and gave up, standing over me.

"Stay here and take care of things with Andy. Once Pierce is discharged, I'll come see him."

I stared up at her, barely able to force the words out.

"Andy is gone."

"I know you're upset, but you can't take it out on me."

She wasn't listening at all. Instead, she just smoothed down her clothes without even looking at me.

"Try to see things from my side. Pierce has always been in poor health and can't take care of himself. Now he's broken his hand on top of it."

"If I don't look after him, who will? We're husband and wife. Whatever you've been through, I can make it up to you later, but right now he genuinely needs someone there."

She pulled out her phone, apparently about to call an orderly in.

"Stop throwing a tantrum and stay here with Andy. If something comes up, text me. I'll get back to you whenever I can."

But every time I'd ever been in danger, every message I sent her came back as nothing more than an automated AI reply.

When she saw I still hadn't moved, she sighed, softening her tone just slightly.

"Come on, enough with the attitude. Things with Pierce are really critical right now, so I'm heading back over. If you really can't handle it, once this is all over, I'll put in a transfer request and come home. Okay?"

She didn't look at me again.

She turned and walked out.

I closed my eyes slowly. The tape over my mouth was soaked through with blood, and the torn skin underneath throbbed with a deep, drilling pain.

But all I felt was cold.

So that was how it worked in her world.

My life and Andy's put together still didn't measure up to a single cough from Pierce Donovan.

When the nurse pushed the door open, she let out a scream.

"Mr. Morrison! What happened to you?"

She fumbled to undo the belt, trying to check my injuries.

I shoved her aside and ran all the way to the morgue.

Andy was lying there, his small body draped in a white sheet.

My hands trembled as I lifted the corner and saw his ashen little face, tears still clinging to the edges of his eyes.

There was a time when Gwen had been a good mother and a good wife.

The memories hit me like a wave.

In the early days of our marriage, she used to come straight home after work to cook dinner. She handed over her paycheck without being asked. She once drove across town just to bring me a bowl of soup from some hole-in-the-wall restaurant I liked.

The day Andy was born, she held that tiny, wrinkled baby in her arms and cried like an idiot.

"Liam, this is our baby. We have a real family now."

Back then, we were genuinely happy.

How did it turn into this?

I stroked my son's cold cheek, my chest aching like someone had carved a piece of me out while I was still alive.

I regretted it. I truly regretted it.

If I'd seen through her lies sooner, if I'd taken Andy and left that hollow shell of a home earlier, would none of this have happened?

I gathered Andy's belongings, and inside his backpack was a crumpled sheet of paper.

I unfolded it and found an essay titled "My Mom."

"My mom is a superhero. She's really busy, but she promised to take me to the amusement park. Dad says Mom is far away fighting monsters, and when she beats them all, she'll come back and blow out candles with me."

"Mom, I already learned how to tie my shoes. When are you coming back to teach me how to ride a bike?"

Three stick figures held hands at the bottom of the page.

I clenched that piece of paper so hard that my knuckles went white.

Every time Andy needed Gwen the most, she never showed up—not for the fevers that landed him in the hospital, not for his first time performing on stage, and not even the night he was hit by that car and lay dying.

And I couldn't keep waiting around for a love that was never coming back.

The next day, as I was turning in my resignation, Gwen sent me a message.

It was in that same familiar AI tone as always.

"Take care of yourself. Don't overwork."

I hurled my phone into the trash.

In that moment, I was finally, completely awake.

In her mind, I would always be the fool who swallowed his pride for the sake of the family, the idiot who would stand in the same spot waiting for her no matter what she did.

The overseas posting I'd given up, the position of regional director of the international projects division, was something I'd thought about for five years.

Five years ago, she'd just gotten pregnant. Gwen told me the family needed me at home, so I stepped aside.

Four years ago, Andy had just been born. She said a child couldn't grow up without his father, so I stepped aside again.

Three years ago, she said Pierce had just started at the company and needed her guidance, so once again, I chose to stay behind.

Every single time I gave in, it became another chip she used to hurt me without consequence.

This time, I didn't ask her, and I wouldn't wait around for her permission.