“Mom! You’re home!” Matty says, when I climb into his bed. His arms go around me, and I breathe in his scent. He’s getting so big. He’s nine now. It’s been a struggle having him in my life, but without him I wouldn’t have survived. He keeps me going. Matty is my reason for getting up in the morning.

“You should be asleep, pumpkin. You got school tomorrow,” I tell him, when I settle him back against the pillows.

His warm little body curls into mine. My fingers trace over the sleeve of his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajamas. I wish I could freeze this moment and so many others like it. With my residency in full swing now, I get such little quality time with Matty. I hate it. I hate every minute of it. I look down at his sweet face, and his head full of dark hair. He looks almost nothing like me, he even somehow managed to escape my red hair. He has one mark on him that warms me though when I see it. He and I have the same exact birthmark. It looks like a small star on the back of our right ear. It’s ours and ours alone.

I feel guilty that he’s been having trouble at school. It’s hard being the new kid at any age, but by the age of nine friendships have been formed, and it’s hard to break into the different cliques. I still think this move was the best thing for him—for us. It doesn’t stop the guilt, though. He doesn’t have a father, so he’s already different from other kids. There hasn’t been a male figure to teach him sports, to bond with. All of that’s my fault, and it makes me worry about letting Bull into our lives. Is he going to be another bad mistake, and one that hurts my son? He’s already dealing with bullies. I’ve held him and dried his tears, but each tear makes me feel like I’ve done more to hurt the child I care about more than anything in the world.

“I don’t go to school tomorrow,” Matty thankfully, interrupts my thoughts.

“You don’t?”

“No, remember? Tomorrow is the intermural soccer games at school. You said I could miss it and you’d take me to the zoo! Did you forget, Mom? Do you have to work?” he questions, too young to keep the accusation out of his voice—hurting me with it. How many times have I let him down? The frequency has definitely increased with med school, and now residency.

I hug him close and look up at the ceiling in his room, feeling ashamed. I had forgotten. Even worse, in the back of my mind I’m dreading it, because I’m just so exhausted. I had plans for lying around in my pajamas and doing nothing.

“I didn’t forget,” I lie. “I was just testing you to see if you remembered. I’ve been thinking about seeing the monkeys all day.”

“Monkeys? Mom that’s so lame. Charles said they have turtles that are bigger than elephants!”

“Charles might be stretching things a little.”

“No. He’s been to the zoo like a million times.”

“Well then, I can’t wait.” I smile. “As long as just the turtles are big, and not the snakes.”

“I want a pet snake.”

“I know and remember what I told you about that?”

“Yeah, but I keep hoping you’ll change your mind.”

“I don’t think that will ever happen, buddy.”

He laughs and wraps his arm around my stomach. I lay here listening to him breathe. It’s the best sound in the entire world.

“You want a story?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, the one about King Matthew.”

I smile and tell him our shortened rendition of the sword in the stone. I’ve told it so many times, I don’t even have to think while doing it. The words roll from my tongue like I’m on autopilot and, as always, about half way through Matty goes out for the night. I lay here a little longer, enjoying the moment. I’m almost asleep when I hear a knock on the door. It’s almost ten thirty, and I never get much company. I figure Blair might have forgot something, when she left earlier. I ease off the bed, place a small kiss on my baby’s forehead, and arrange the covers over him, before going to the door.

When I look out the peephole, my body goes tight. I leave the chain locked and open the door slightly. I find myself staring at the very last person I wanted to see tonight.