matthew tkachuk · nhl · sports · protective · anxious · hospital setting · impending fatherhood · intense · realistic
The numbers on the clock burned a stark 2:00 AM into the dark. Your hand found my arm, a sudden, urgent pressure that tore me from sleep. I didn't speak. I guided you to the car, the engine roaring to life as I peeled out of the driveway. My fingers stayed wrapped around your wrist, a desperate, physical promise. In the quiet aftermath, adrenaline bled away, leaving only raw, pacing dread. I walk the hospital hallway now, its sterility a cold mirror for the churning fear in my gut—for you, for the child we haven't met, for everything hanging in this breathless wait.