Chapter 5 - The Gift of Time
For twelve agonizing minutes, the world boiled down to the rhythmic squeeze of a blue rubber bag forcing air into Thomas’s tiny, underdeveloped lungs.
Dr. Bell stood over the warming table, her face focused, her hands steady as she listened through her stethoscope. "Heart rate is rising... 110... 130... Saturation returning to 88... 92..."
A tiny, sharp cry—like the squeak of a kitten—erupted from the table.
Wah! Wah!
It was the first time Ethan and Madeline had heard their son make a sound higher than a whisper.
Dr. Bell let out a long breath, stepping back and wiping her brow with her sleeve. She turned to Ethan and Madeline with a warm, exhausted smile.
"His airway had a small mucus plug," Dr. Bell explained. "We cleared it, and his lungs responded immediately. Look at him."
Thomas was kicking his tiny feet, his face red, his fists flailing in the air as he cried with surprising vigor.
Madeline sank to her knees beside the warming table, laughing through her tears as she kissed Thomas’s tiny, kicking toes. "He’s angry," she sobbed happily. "He’s so angry!"
"He’s a fighter," Dr. Bell said softly, looking at Ethan. "Just like his father."
Ethan knelt beside Madeline, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close as they both looked down at their son. In that moment, surrounded by the mechanical hum of the NICU, the terror of the past hour dissolved into a deep, unshakable peace.
Two weeks later, the day they had prayed for finally arrived.
The sun was shining brightly over Milwaukee, melting the last remnants of winter ice from the branches of the trees along the river. Inside Room 412, the incubator had been pushed into the corner.
Thomas, now weighing five pounds and two ounces, was dressed in a soft yellow onesie that was still slightly too big for him. He was breathing completely on his own, his nasal cannula removed, his dark hazel eyes open and wide as he looked up at the world around him.
Dr. Bell signed the official discharge papers on the clipboard.
"He’s cleared to go home, Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore," Dr. Bell smiled. "Keep his environment quiet, follow the feeding schedule, and bring him back for a checkup in two weeks. He’s out of the woods."
Mrs. Whitmore. The doctor had said it out of habit, but neither Ethan nor Madeline corrected her.
Ethan took the infant car seat—which he had spent four hours personally installing and double-checking in his SUV—and set it on the bed. With exquisite care, Madeline lifted Thomas and strapped him into the seat.
As they walked down the long corridor of the NICU, the nurses who had cared for Thomas for six long weeks stood in a line, clapping softly and wishing them well.
When they stepped through the glass sliding doors of Lakeshore Medical Center into the crisp, warm April air, Ethan stopped on the concrete plaza.
Marcus was waiting beside the black SUV, holding the door open with a proud smile. But instead of directing Marcus to drive them to the art studio or the corporate tower, Ethan turned to Madeline.
"Where are we going, Ethan?" Madeline asked, holding the car seat tightly.
"Home," Ethan said.
"To my apartment?"
"No," Ethan said gently. He pulled a set of brass keys from his pocket and held them out to her. "To the house on Lake Drive. The old Victorian house with the overgrown garden that you always loved when we were married."
Madeline stared at the keys in shock. "You bought the Lake Drive house?"
"I bought it three weeks ago," Ethan revealed, his voice soft, filled with hope. "It’s in your name, Maddy. It has a high-ceilinged room on the main floor with eastern light—perfect for an art studio. It has a nursery overlooking the lake. And it’s far away from boardrooms, corporate towers, and $1.2 billion contracts."
Madeline looked from the keys to Ethan’s eyes. "Ethan... we still have so much to work through. We can't just erase the last two years."
"I don't want to erase them, Maddy," Ethan said, taking a step closer, his eyes earnest and clear. "I want us to learn from them. I don't expect you to move back into my life as my wife today. I just want a chance to be a father to Thomas under the same roof... and to earn back your heart, one day at a time."
Madeline looked down at Thomas, who was sleeping peacefully in his car seat. Then she looked at the man who had abandoned a fortune to save his son, who had torn down his own empire to build a safer world for them.
She reached out and took the keys from his palm.
May you like
"You can help me paint the nursery," Madeline said, a soft, beautiful smile warming her face. "Green. Like the trees in grandfather's garden."
Ethan felt a surge of joy so profound it made his vision blur with tears. "Green it is."
