Sharon Raydor looked up when the door opened. She hoped it was a doctor or a nurse, or Fritz and William if not medical personal. It was none of them. The man who walked in was the last person she wanted to see. Jackson Raydor had on a full suit, his shirt untucked and his tie skewed around his neck. Her shoulders immediately stiffened.

Her breath caught in her throat as he gave her a hard look. Sure she should have called him as soon as Henry was wheeled back into surgery, but honestly the thought hadn't even crossed her mind at the time. She reached into her purse quickly to make sure that her weapon was still there, not that she would absolutely need it, but it wasn't a bad idea to have it close by when the two of them were in the same room.

She stood up, heart pounding in her chest as she dared to face him down. "Jackson."

"Shari," he said, his eyes skimming up and down her body appreciatively. "You didn't call."

She shrugged and held her ground, the chair hitting the backs of her legs, centering her in the room. She was about to see red. "You show up drunk?"

"I'm not drunk."

"Bull shit, Jackson. I can smell it from here." Her voice echoed throughout the waiting room just before silence took over.

"I'm not drunk, Shari," he repeated and stepped closer. "Where's my son?"

"He's in surgery." Air was sucked from her lungs as he took step closer to her with a soft look in his eyes. No matter how bad of a father he was, or husband for that matter, he did love his children, albeit naively.

"How long?"

She glanced at her watch. "Two and a half hours now."

He nodded and stepped closer to her, reaching up to cup her cheek. His stark blue eyes pierced hers as seconds ticked by. "Shari, beautiful Shari."

"Stop."

He listed forward, the stench of his breath sickening her stomach. He was going to kiss her. She started to panic, her heart stuck in her throat, and she had nowhere to go. She couldn't step back because the chairs were there, not to her right because there was a small table, and not to her left or forward because his frame blocked those. She hadn't planned this well. He always got her on edge to the point where she stopped thinking.

"Jackso—" She was cut off by his lips. Her back started to hurt from how tense she was. She reached up and pressed her hand into his chest, pushing him back as hard as possible. He stumbled but moved away from her enough that she could slip free and put her back to the door. It wasn't where she would ever want to stand, not being able to see what was behind her, but it was better than having no exit. "Jackson."

He started toward her again. "Come on, Shari. Just so the kids can see us happy." His gave her a puppy dog look, his eyes widening and his lips pursing. That look had once worked on her—fifteen years before.

"Stop." She took a step back, but he still came toward her. "Jackson, this is neither the time nor the place." She moved back until she hit the door, stopping with an abrupt halt.

"What happened to us, Shari?" He cooed at her, once again on her, running his fingers down her sides.

"What happened? You son of a bitch!" She spat at him. "What happened is that you went and gambled everything away. You went and cheated with whores and prostitutes, running amuck of everything. What happened is that you hit me and threatened my life. You are what happened." She poked a finger into his chest to drive her point home.

Jackson grabbed her hand; she pushed back at him and managed to take a step forward before being shoved back into the wall right next to the door. He pressed his hips into her body, forcing her to stay put, her wrist bending unnaturally as he held on tightly. His voice was low as he growled at her, "Don't talk about it like it was all my fault, Shari."

The way he said her name put shivers up and down her spine in the worst way possible. "You bastard," she shot back at him.

He leaned to the side, readying for the swing; his hand that had been gripping her wrist winding back to smack her. Sharon didn't recoil. She stood her ground and stared him straight in the face, matching his menacing look with one of her own.

She was prepared to take the blow when the door shoved open, the edge of it slamming into Jackson's side and face. He stumbled and fell down onto the ground, his body heaving and curling in his obvious pain. Fritz stepped into the room with William hot on his heels.

William ran to his mother, giving her a quick hug before stepping back to stare at his father. Fritz was bent over Jackson, moving his hands aside to look at his face. Sharon shared a look with him, begging him not to ask any questions just then. He nodded and helped the wobbly and whining Jackson up.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone was on the other side of the door."

He grumbled but sat in the chair that Fritz put him in. Moving his hands aside, Fritz checked out the injury. "You break it?" Jackson asked, venom in his tone.

"Doesn't look it, but if you want, we are at a hospital and feel free to get x-rays." Fritz's dark eyes locked with the man's blue as he shook his head. "All right, then. Let's go see if the nurses have an ice pack, so you have less of a shiner in the morning. Maybe some coffee, too."

The two men stood up and made their way to the door, Jackson giving Sharon a seething look while Fritz gave her a soft one. They left, and she immediately sat down, William following her. She reached across the arm of the chair and gripped onto his hand.

"There was an accident on the highway."

"Why is he here?"

Sharon took a deep breath, her eyes still closed as she centered herself and ignored her son's question. "There was an accident on the highway. Henry was thrown from the vehicle and has internal damage and a few broken bones—his leg, his ribs and his cheekbone."

"Mom?"

"He's in surgery. I don't know when he'll be out."

"Mom? Why is he here?"

"He's your father." She looked at him then. "He has every right to be here as I do. That's his son on the operating table. I can't deny him being here."

William cast a glance down to the ground, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "I don't like the way he talks to you."

"Oh, honey." She reached over and curved her fingers around his cheek and chin, making sure that he was looking at her before she spoke. "He loves you, and he loves Henry. That's why he's here. The rest is for me to deal with."

William nodded while clenching his teeth. She knew he was angry with her and with him—angry for two completely separate reasons. She let out a breath and wrapped her arm around her son, holding him close. He let her do it, even though had they not been at the hospital, she knew he would have turned away from her already. The advantages to being in a crisis were being physically close to her son without complaints.

Fritz and Jackson came back with fresh coffee for them and for Sharon. She took it gratefully and sipped, letting the heat from the cup warm her frozen fingers. Jackson promptly stole the chair she had sat in next to her son and started to talk him up. William gave curt and short answers, and Sharon's heart broke. She never wanted him to hate or be disappointed in his father, or to know exactly what had gone on. She always wanted to paint Jackson in a good light for her children, but that had obviously not happened.

Fritz stood as close to her as possible as she sipped her coffee, the heat and his presence loosening the tense muscles in her back more than she cared to admit. He slipped her out of the room with a gentle hand to her back, leaving the door open so she could go back in quickly. They stood just to the side of the door so neither Jackson nor William could see them.

"Did you hear anything?"

She shook her head and pressed a hand to his chest, looking up into his dark eyes. "Not a word yet."

He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips gently to hers. Sharon kissed him back and stared at him as he wiped his thumb across her cheek, brushing away a stray tear. "Okay." He kissed her again, this time lingering for a moment longer. "I'm going to take Will and see if we can find a vending machine."

Nodding, Sharon leaned into his body and rested her forehead against her chest. "Thank you for being here."

"Always," he whispered before moving into the room to collect Will.

She saw a few nurses walk by who gave her a pitying look before moving back into the waiting room to find Jackson standing and swaying from side to side. She glanced at her purse, knowing that it was too far away from her person.

"You fucking him?"

"I beg your pardon," she said, crossing her arms over her chest after setting her coffee down.

"Are you, my wife, fucking him?"

"What would it matter anyway? We separated years ago." Her voice was low and menacing as she glared him down.

Jackson stepped closer, swaggering as the booze wouldn't allow him to walk straight. She would make him sober up before he walked into Henry's recovery room. His words interrupted her thoughts.

"You look might fine, Shari. Why else would you get all dressed up like this if you weren't fucking him? You've always been such a whore." His face started to turn red, his cheeks puffing out with breath. "Always fucking every man there is in sight. Me, your boss, the mailman. Who's he? The fucking plumber?"

"Would you give it up already?" She hissed at him. "There's no point to this conversation."

"There's always a point, baby. I love you."

She rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders. "If you loved me then you wouldn't have been such an ass."

The vein in the center of his forehead popped out, bulging just under his skin. He was about to see red if he wasn't already. He stepped forward and into her space. "You're still my wife." Spittle from his lips sprayed her face as he reached up and slapped her across the cheek.

Sharon didn't move. She wanted desperately to grab her cheek and hold onto it but left well enough alone. Drawing in a deep breath, she stood up straight. "Do it again," she dared him.

Once more the back of his hand connected with her face, her lip splitting where she bit down accidentally. Jackson grippe her shoulders and pulled her into him, his lips smashing down on hers. Sharon tried to shove him back, but his grip was too tight. Her fingers started to go numb from loss of circulation.

"Sharon?"

She startled back when Jackson suddenly let go. Turning to the door, she saw Fritz standing with candy in his hands. William rounded the corner and barged into the room like nothing was amiss, sitting in his already claimed chair. She gave Fritz a soft and worried look as he stared at her with disbelief crossing his features.

"Jackson was just leaving," she said to the room, knowing the man in question was behind her but not willing to look away from Fritz.

"Like hell I was."

She spun on him, glaring daggers. "You will not be seeing Henry in this state. Go home. Sober up. Come back in the morning. I'll call you when he's out of surgery."

"I'm his fucking father, Shari."

She risked a glance to William, who watched from his chair. "You are. But you are not in any condition to act like a father. Now, get out of this room before I have someone remove you by force."

Jackson tucked in his shirt and stomped out of the room, shouting over his shoulder. "This isn't over, bitch."

Sharon let out a breath and collapsed into a chair opposite her son. He whipped out his Gameboy advance and started to play on it. Fritz, still in shock, slowly set the candy next to William before moving to sit next to Sharon. He used one finger to turn her face so he could look over the large red welt on her cheek. Closing his eyes briefly, he put on the best smile he could give her.

"So, that's why you don't like being called Shari."

She let out a noise in the back of her throat, halfway between a sob and a laugh. Shaking her head, Sharon leaned forward and kissed him. After a second, she pulled away and shook her head again before turning to face the door, waiting for any type of medical personal to enter.