My CEO 220

220 A Father's Touch (Jayden)

"But what about Ashlyn? What happens now?" I ask because as much as my baby has life, this also means hers will likely end. I can't just ignore that.

"She'll be well cared for post-op and taken back to her room. The same as any patient. You'll get time to say goodbye if that's what's needed."

I sigh in relief. "I want Ashlyn taken to the Brennan Wing. No arguments. Her mother is due this afternoon. Please make sure she has everything she needs in there with her daughter." "Of course, Mr. Brennan."

The trip to the neonatal ward is a blur. The tiny form of my son, wrapped in a small, sterile blanket, is surrounded by the best medical equipment and minds available.

The doctors and nurses work quickly, their hands deft and sure, ensuring that every moment counts.

The billions in my bank don't count for anything right now. Because sometimes the best medical care you can buy still isn't enough.

Winona is beside me as we follow along with the small incubator that holds my son, our son. The reality of what just happened is still sinking in. My son-my tiny, fragile son-is alive. Barely, but he's here.

I love him madly already. I mean, it's incredible really. The feelings that fill me now are more intense than anything I've ever felt. It's a different kind of love.

everything I can give him, but I'm also aware I don't want him to have the life I've

mud, laughter, fun and

okay to make

and the soft murmur of voices greet us. It's a place where every miniscule breath is fought for,

in my throat as I watch the medical staff attach

smile. "He's a fighter, Mr. Brennan. We'll do everything we can to give him the

nod, swallowing hard. "Thank you," I manage to say, my voice barely

her expression gentle. "You can hold him again in a few days but right now, would you like to touch him? We have places for your hands to go on either

brushing against his tiny arm. His skin is soft, impossibly delicate, and I can feel the warmth of his life beneath

220 A Father's Touch

my pinky, holding on with a surprising strength. I gasp, the tears I've been holding back since we got to neonatal finally spilling over. "He's holding

you who will

the other side of the incubator. She strokes our son's tiny arm, her touch gentle

wasn't there for, the connection I lost without ever knowing. I do feel that connection with her now. Since the moment I met her. But he's so small and

and love

know there are people facing this kind of

don't know how

Winona is so fiercely protective of Abby, why she made the decisions she did. I understand my mother's possessiveness of me, even if I can't condone how she expressed it. Because doing that out of love isn't right. Love should never mean

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