Chapter 2 - THREE MONTHS
Liam’s decline did not move politely. It did not wait for Maya to prepare herself, and it did not respect the milestones still marked on the nursery calendar. Within two weeks, the man who had carried lumber up the porch steps was using the railing with both hands. By the third week, Maya was buttoning the cuffs of his shirts because his fingers no longer obeyed him quickly enough.
She learned to perform small acts of care without making them feel like pity. She left his medication beside the coffee mug instead of handing it to him. She placed chairs in the hallway under the excuse that she wanted “more places to sit while pregnant.” They both knew the truth, and they both protected each other from saying it aloud.
At night, Liam’s breathing became shallow when he slept. Maya would wake and count the rise and fall of his chest until she hated herself for counting. Sometimes Grace rolled beneath her ribs at the same time, and Maya would place one hand on her husband and one on her belly, trapped between a life beginning and a life ending.
Dr. Barrett became more than Liam’s physician. He was the person who explained new symptoms without false comfort and who spoke to Liam as if he were still a man making choices, not simply a patient losing abilities. That mattered to Liam more than Maya understood at first.
Then the private meetings began.
The first time, Dr. Barrett asked Maya whether she would mind waiting outside for a few minutes. Liam squeezed her hand and said he needed to discuss “advance planning.” Maya nodded, kissed his forehead, and took her place in the corridor beside a vending machine that hummed too loudly.
Twenty-seven minutes passed. When the door opened, Dr. Barrett looked serious, and Liam looked exhausted but satisfied. Maya asked what they had discussed.
“There’s something I need to arrange,” Liam said. “Please trust me.”
The second meeting lasted longer. A woman from the hospital’s donor services team joined them, carrying a blue folder. Maya noticed the folder when the door opened and felt a quick stab of pain, but organ donation was not a secret. Liam had already told her what he wanted.
Still, something about the way Dr. Barrett avoided her eyes bothered her.
A week later, Liam asked his younger brother, Ethan, to visit. Ethan lived in Seattle and had not been close to the family for years, mostly because of a long-running conflict with their father, Richard Bennett. Liam and Ethan had always stayed in contact, but their conversations usually happened by phone and rarely involved the rest of the family.
When Ethan arrived, he hugged Maya carefully around her pregnancy and then disappeared into the bedroom with Liam for nearly an hour. Maya heard low voices but could not make out the words. When Ethan left, his eyes were red.
“What is everyone discussing except me?” Maya asked after the front door closed.
Liam sat on the edge of the bed, breathing harder than he should have been after such a small effort. “Nothing that changes how much I love you.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.” He looked down at his hands. “It isn’t.”
Maya’s fear turned sharp. “Are you in debt? Did something happen at work? Is there something about your illness you haven’t told me?”
“No.” He lifted his head immediately. “Nothing like that.”
“Then why are you shutting me out?”
Liam’s face tightened. For the first time since the diagnosis, frustration flashed between them. “Because if I tell you now, you’ll spend what time we have left trying to take care of the future. I want you here with me.”
“I am here.”
“I know. And I want all of you, not the part of you that will turn into a planner because planning is easier than being scared.”
The accuracy of the words silenced her. Maya hated him for knowing her that well, and loved him for the same reason.
He reached for her hand. “I am not hiding another life from you. I am not protecting someone else. I am not leaving you a disaster. I am trying to leave you something I couldn’t give you while I was alive.”
Maya felt cold despite the warm room. “That sentence is terrifying.”
“It will make sense later.”
She wanted to demand everything. Instead, she remembered the porch and his request for trust. She sat beside him and pressed his hand between both of hers.
“Promise me one thing,” she said. “No secret that changes what I would choose for you medically.”
“I promise.”
“Nothing that could hurt Grace.”
“Never.”
“And if you get scared, you tell me. You don’t protect me from that.”
Liam’s eyes filled. “I’m scared every day.”
Maya leaned into him, and the fight dissolved before it could become something they would regret. They stayed like that until Grace began moving again, a small force reminding them that time was continuing whether they approved or not.
By the beginning of Maya’s eighth month, Liam needed a wheelchair for hospital visits. He resisted it for three days, then apologized to Maya after nearly collapsing in the kitchen. “I thought the chair meant I was giving up,” he admitted.
“It means you’re saving energy to argue with me longer,” she said.
He laughed, but the sound ended in a cough.
One afternoon, while Maya waited outside another private consultation, Dr. Barrett stepped into the hall before Liam was ready to leave. He carried a plain brown envelope, thick enough to hold more than a letter. When he saw Maya, he immediately slid it beneath a black patient file.
The movement was quick, but Maya noticed.
Her stomach tightened. “What was that?”
Dr. Barrett hesitated.
From inside the room, Liam called, “Sam.”
The doctor looked back at him. Something unspoken passed between the two men.
Then Dr. Barrett faced Maya. “It’s something Liam asked me to hold.”
“For what?”
Liam wheeled himself into view, his face pale with exhaustion. “For later.”
Maya stared at the envelope beneath the doctor’s file. She could have reached for it. She could have demanded it. She could have told them both that grief did not cancel her right to know what was happening around her.
Instead, she stepped aside.
“Later,” she repeated.
Liam nodded.
That night, he slept badly. Near dawn, Maya woke to find him sitting upright against the headboard, watching her.
“What?” she whispered.
“Nothing.”
“Liam.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m memorizing you.”
Maya’s throat tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“I know.”
She moved close and put his hand against her stomach. Grace kicked almost immediately.
Liam closed his eyes, and a tear slipped down the side of his face.
Three days later, Dr. Barrett called and told them it was time to come to the hospital.
May you like
Not for an appointment.
To stay.
