My Husband's Children

I wake under the pillowy soft comforter on January the 4th. I snuggle deeper in the warm bed with a sigh. The pillow is conformed perfectly to my head, and I just want to absorb the feeling, but I am already awake. I know that I won't be able to get back to sleep, so I roll out of bed and softly pad down the stairs, looking around I find the house empty. My husband is already at work, and my husband's children are at school, done with Christmas Break.
No. I stop, letting the fridge door swing open, I set down the milk carton with a thud. No, that is not right, they are not "my husband's children", they are my children, our children. I shake my head sadness getting to me, I am always thinking that. I am always thinking of things as my husbands, but now that we have been married for a month, I should be thinking of them as ours.
But still, as I think back, I do not love his- our children as much as I should, I just have not come to terms as them as ours, no matter how much I try. With a weight on my shoulders, I slowly step up the stairs, and just as I was about to crawl back into bed, the phone rings. I pick it up on its 3rd ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello is this Mrs. Lenson?" A gruff voice on the other side asks.
"Yes it is, how may I help you?" I reply, curious about the tone in his voice
"Mrs. Lenson, I have some bad news."
"What do you mean bad news?" I ask, an odd sensation settles in my stomach. What in the world could be wrong?
"Ma'm on the way to school, Luke was hit buy a car." He blurts out, obviously not knowing how to put it gently. The phone drops from my hand clattering against the wall and swaying in the air. No, no no no no no no no!! Not my son, anything but my son!
"Mrs. Lenson? Mrs. Lenson? Are you there?" I hear him through the reciever below, I manage to shakily grab it and murmer something.
"Listen I need you to come to the hospital." He instructs.
"Yes, yes, I will be right there." On auto-pilot I am running to the car, pajamas and all, driving to the hospital. I have no thoughts, my brain is numb, I don't remember anything I did on the way, nothing at all. I rush into the hospital, up to the desk. Someone takes a hold of my arm, I spin around, to find a strange man.
"Mrs. Lenson?" he asks, in the same gruff voice from the phone.
"Yes, yes that is me, where is my son?" I cry out, turning my head, looking for his blond, shaggy mop of hair.
"Mrs. Lenson he is going to be okay, he will be fine." He reports and relief washes over me. I drop into his arms, weeping. And amid all of the rush of feeling, I remember one simple thought....
I called him "my son".

-----

This is the first story I ever wrote on writing.com and it holds a special place in my heart. I request no more suggestions for change be made on this piece. I like to keep it as it is in a sort of reminder of how much my writing has grown Thank you for your read!