Chapter 4 - The In-Laws and Outlaws
Elena survived the crash, but it cost us three days in the Intensive Care Unit. The low-dose chemo was immediately suspended. Her body couldn't handle it. The cancer would be allowed to grow unchecked until she gave birth.
On the fourth day, as she was moved back to a regular room, the elevator doors opened, and my worst nightmare walked down the hall.
Eleanor, Elena’s mother.
Eleanor was a formidable woman who had never fully approved of me. When I filed for divorce, her dislike had morphed into pure, unadulterated hatred. I had called her the day of the crash, knowing she deserved to know her daughter was in the ICU.
She marched into the room, took one look at Elena sleeping peacefully in the bed, and then turned her furious gaze on me.
“Outside,” Eleanor hissed, pointing a manicured finger at the door.
I followed her into the corridor. Before the door fully closed, Eleanor’s palm cracked across my cheek. The slap echoed loudly, stinging my skin, but I didn't flinch. I just stood there and took it.
“How dare you?” she seethed, tears of rage in her eyes. “How dare you walk away from her when she was broken, leave her to deal with this nightmare alone, and then play the devoted husband now? You don't get to be here, Daniel. You forfeited that right.”
“I know,” I said quietly, tasting a bit of copper in my mouth. “I was a coward, Eleanor. I failed her. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to forgive myself for it.”
“You are going to leave her again the minute this gets too hard!” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s dying, Daniel! My little girl is dying, and you are just going to break her heart one last time before she goes!”
I stepped forward, looking my former mother-in-law dead in the eye.
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“I am not leaving,” I said, my voice vibrating with absolute certainty. “I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you slap me every day. I am going to be here to hold the basin when she’s sick. I am going to carry her to the bathroom when she can't walk. I am going to protect that baby. You can stay and help me, or you can get out of my way. But I am not going anywhere.”
Eleanor stared at me, searching for a lie, searching for the boy who had run away two months ago. But that boy was dead. Finally, she crumbled, covering her face as she sobbed. I reached out and pulled her into a hug, two terrified people united by our desperate love for the woman sleeping in the next room.
