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"That's good, Jordan." I smiled and it was genuine. "I'm happy for you."

I watched him stand up and place his mug in the sink. "I really can never tell you how sorry I am for what I did," he added, voice torn. "I wish there was something I could do for you –"

"Stay sober," I whispered. "Raise your son. Give him a happy life. Give yourself a happy life. That's what you can do for me."

"I will," he replied hoarsely with a nod of his head. "Goodbye, Hope."

"Goodbye, Jordan," I replied as I watched him walk away.

****

Chapter Sixty-Four

Hope

My due date came and went, taking with it three extra days, and leaving me swollen and overdue on Valentine's Day.

Andalone.

Declining all invitations and offers of company from my family, I locked myself away in my little cottage and spent most of the day ironing baby clothes.

The rest of the day I spent wrapped up in one of Hunter's hoodies with my face buried in his mattress, desperately trying to catch his scent.

It had faded now.

Almost gone.

But if I closed my eyes and stayed very still, I could still smell him.

Or maybe it was just a memory I was reliving of the nights we'd spent tangled up between the sheets of this bed.

Either way, I found comfort in this small act, so I continued to do it.

That night, I ate a huge bowl of homemade Mac & Cheese before settling back down in bed, and watching Noah's old fighting tapes – my focus trained on the blond man always in his corner.

The pint of ice-cream that followed my meal didn’t touch my taste buds.

Probably because I was crying so hard.

But I needed to do this.

I needed to see him.

Even if it hurt.

I had tosee.

I continued to torture myself late into the evening until my eyelids became heavy, and exhaustion finally caught up with me.

****

I guess the old saying was true; when a child was sick or in excruciating pain, the only person they wanted was their mother.

It didn’t matter how old the child was.

Only a mother's words and touch could comfort them.

Well, that's exactly how I felt right now.

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