He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts swirled.
"How did we get here?" he murmured, glancing back down at Emma's small form.
"I wasn't ready for this... I'm still not ready." The words felt heavy in the quiet room, but Alex needed to say them. He needed to let out the thoughts that had been building up inside him for months, maybe even years.
"I didn't sign up for this," Alex whispered, his voice soft and tinged with disbelief.
"But then, whoever really does?" He looked down at Emma, thinking back to the day he found him. That tiny baby on his doorstep had turned his whole world upside down. He'd had no idea what to do, no idea how to be a father, and yet, here they were.
He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion pulling at him.
"I thought... I thought it was supposed to get easier, you know? That I'd figure it out along the way. But now—" Alex's voice caught in his throat as he looked at the machines hooked up to Emma. The sight of his son, so small and vulnerable, was almost too much to bear.
"God, I'm scared," he admitted quietly. The words sounded foreign to him—like something he'd never allowed himself to fully acknowledge. But it was true. Alex was terrified. Not just of losing Emma, but of failing him. Of not being enough.
"What if I can't protect him? What if I can't give him what he needs?" His leg bounced restlessly as the thoughts spiraled. He thought back to all the nights spent pacing the floor with Emma, the moments when he felt completely in over his head.
"I'm just a guy. I barely know what I'm doing half the time. I can't—" He paused, shaking his head, the weight of his insecurities crashing down.
"I can't fix this." Alex stood up, pacing the small space beside the bed, the familiar tightness in his chest returning. He couldn't lose Emma. Not after everything they'd been through together.
"I should've seen this coming," he muttered, his voice growing more frustrated.
"I should've known something was wrong. I should've..." He stopped, running a hand through his hair as his voice dropped again.
"But how could I? How was I supposed to know?" For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at Emma's peaceful face, feeling the helplessness wash over him.
"I'm just doing my best, buddy," he whispered, almost as if he were speaking directly to Emma.
"I don't know if it's enough, but I'm trying. I'm really trying." Alex sank back into the chair, his hands rubbing his tired face.
"You deserve more than this. More than me." He shook his head, laughing bitterly at his own self-doubt. But then his gaze softened as he looked at Emma again, the love he felt for this little boy breaking through the haze of fear and worry.
"But we've made it this far, haven't we?" he whispered, his voice a little steadier now.
"We've survived every crazy, impossible thing life's thrown at us. And somehow, we've always figured it out." He squeezed Emma's hand, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You've been so brave, so strong... and I guess I'll just have to keep being brave, too. For you." The quiet hum of the machines filled the silence, and for the first time since the surgery, Alex felt a small, fragile peace settle over him. Life hadn't gone the way he'd expected—maybe it never would. But as long as Emma needed him, Alex knew he would find a way to keep going. Even if he wasn't ready. Even if he was scared.
"We're gonna get through this, bud," Alex whispered, his voice firm now.
"I don't know how... but we will."