The Monsters of the Mind

Part 25

"Rosemary?" one of the nurses poked her head into my room.

I was very tired from being up all night and from bringing my son into the world. All I wanted to do was to rest and get some sleep - but my baby had other ideas. 

Most of the time, newborns were tired from being brought forth into the world - but not James. He seemed very determined to move about and learn about this new world outside of his mother's belly. It had taken a bit of coaxing to get him to sleep, but he woke up about ten minutes later and hungry as all heck. The little bugger refused to eat anything else but from me and only me, much to the dismay of the staff - thus the reason why he was permitted to remain with me in my room instead of in the nursery with the other newborns.

When I indicated to the nurse that I was awake, the poor woman smiled, "Hugo - your husband - is here to see you."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. What would he think?

"B-Bring him in," my voice was very small, but was easily misread as being tired.

The nurse came in, holding the door open as Hugo walked into the room.

He didn't look angry, just seemed tired - like I was. His entire frame was slouched  forward, hands buried deep in his pockets. His typically crisp shirt was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the top two buttons were popped open. He looked like a different man entirely. He slowly came forward, feet scraping along the ground like he had gotten into trouble - I wouldn't have been surprised if any of the staff members had refused to tell him where I was currently with the fear that he may cause physical harm to the newborn baby that would be living in the hotel with us from now on.

He stopped at the side of the bed, looking upon the child with little interest. 

James' eyes were closed, finally falling into a peaceful sleep. I was still holding his little hand in my fingers, the small hand tightly clasping as if it was afraid to let go.

"This is James, then?" Hugo's voice was thick, either with anger or sadness - I wasn't sure.

"Yes," I answered honestly, a cool chill running down my spine at the words, "I called him 'James Alexander.' James after my father and Alexander after my grandfather."

"My father is named Alexander as well," Hugo's eyes shift to my face for the first time in months, "It's suitable. I take it the nickname for him will be Jamie, then?"

"I think Jimmy might work," I answered, turning away from him and back at James, "It'll be a good name other kids will call him."

I felt Hugo shift beside me. 

The air between us felt so stale, like the fire that had once burned between us had burnt out and left nothing but ash in its wake. Everything that had led up to this point had been nothing but hurt and pain, all the love and compassion had vanished completely. My heart still hoped beyond everything that perhaps Hugo would see the joys that a child could bring, but my mind said he may never see a child that was his as nothing more than burden.

I unintentionally clenched my son closer to my chest. If Hugo couldn't accept him, then I would raise him on my own.

"I'll let the staff know," Hugo's voice broke the silence, "They'll want to know how soon you'll be back."

"Sir, it was a very difficult birth for your wife," the nurse spoke up - still standing in the doorway, "The doctors want to keep her here for a few nights, just to make sure she's healthy enough to -"