The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 477

To think that he had spent his entire life trapped in this sterile room, enduring endless treatments and physical agony. Fits of hysterical crying like the one she had just witnessed were likely a daily occurrence for him. And every single time he cried in pain, he hadn't had his mother there to comfort him.

A vicious ache twisted in her chest, and fresh tears spilled over her lashes. "I'm so sorry, baby. Mommy is so sorry. I should have protected you," she sobbed softly, resting her forehead against his. Fighting to keep her voice steady, she whispered, "Baby, I'm your mommy. Do you know that? I'm your mommy."

"Ma... Mama..."

A tiny, raspy voice bubbled up from her arms. It was such a quiet sound, yet it pierced straight through the noise of the room and struck the very core of Petty's soul.

Her breath hitched violently as the tears flowed faster. She gathered the little boy tighter against her, completely abandoning any attempt to hold back her sobs. "Yes, I'm Mama. Mama's here. I'm right here, sweetheart, and I'm never leaving you. I'm your mama."

Loosening her grip just enough, she gently took his free hand and pressed it flat against the left side of her chest, right over her galloping heart. The tears clinging to the toddler's lashes had dried, and his big, round eyes widened as he felt the heavy, rhythmic thumping beneath his palm.

It was a rhythm so incredibly familiar, something he had known long, long ago. His little face relaxed into a look of absolute peace, and he cooed softly, "Mama."

Petty let out a tearful, euphoric laugh, nodding frantically. "Yes, baby, yes."

But the boy was severely weakened. Just staying awake to look at her and call for her had drained whatever little energy he had left. The moment he saw her smile, his small hand slipped from her chest, and his heavy eyelids began to flutter shut. Even through the thick sterile layers of her gown, Petty could feel the alarming heat radiating from his feverish body.

Abacus wasn't sweating profusely, just a light dampness along his forehead. Petty's delicate, soothing touches seemed to work like magic, lulling him back into a deep sleep against her chest. His long lashes were clustered into damp, tear-soaked spikes, his little lips parted in a slight pout as he breathed.

Watching him sleep, Petty felt her heart swell with an aching, overwhelming love. She held him for a little while longer before Franco finally coaxed her into laying the baby down to rest properly. With Franco's help, she gently transferred Abacus back into his specialized crib. As she tucked him in, she watched Franco drape a tailored dress shirt over the toddler's tummy—a piece of clothing she instantly recognized as his own.

Glancing up absentmindedly, her breath caught in her throat. Taped along the headboard of the baby's crib were easily over a dozen photos. She froze.

Every single one of them was a picture of her.