Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 32

His father carefully lifted him from the soft blankets and held him facing their wall-sized window in Olivia’s hospital room to look out onto New York City.

Then he looked down on his child with his eyes filled with sorrow and worry. “My son, I don’t know if you can understand me, but there are times that some things can’t be explained. One day I’ll be gone and you will have to take care of your mom. In the meantime I want you to know I love you very much and I will do anything for you.”

“Do you have to go?” Olivia interrupted, taking the baby for his next feeding. “It’s dangerous and you have a newborn son.”

Dorian, Sr. heaved a world-weary sigh. “I have to, Liv.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no one else.”

Olivia lowered her head and kissed her son’s cheek, then made a sucking sound against it. He giggled again, and her tears, thought long ago spent, began anew.

“It’s not fair.” She said. “You won’t see him crawl or learn to walk. Is there some other way?”

Her husband shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. But he will walk. He’ll even talk. And when he gets there—he’ll do much more.”

The baby cooed as his mother held him tightly, afraid to let him go. He heard her heartbeat quicken. It was not the same comforting, steady beat he had gotten so used to for all his short existence.

DORIAN GRAY

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