“O-okay. Can you tell me about her prognosis?”
The woman is shaking her head before I’m done asking. “Nope. That’s not my job. There will be a doctor doing rounds this afternoon.”
I furrow my brow. “All right. How about some directions?”
She prattles off a laundry list of turns that my muddled mind barely comprehends. I nod along with faith that there are proper signs posted. When I stay unmoving in front of her, she quirks a brow. “Is there a problem, dear?”
I jolt out of my stupor. The troubles are stacking up against me. I don’t bother sharing that. After a timid wave, I take off to the left wing. I follow the woman’s instructions to the best of my ability. The dimly lit hallway on the third floor is something out of a horror film. Overhead lights flicker. The drab walls are barren. My sandals squeak with every inch I cover. This trek is ominous as hell. As if hospitals need to be more creepy. 313 finally appears in front of me and a sob tickles my tongue. The door is slightly ajar. I push the gap wider and peek inside.
“Gray?”
I’m welcomed by stilted silence and darkness. The square space is almost pitch-black, only a single strand of sunshine breaks through the blinds. My feet carry me across the room without pause. There’s a slim figure tucked in bed, tranquil and sleeping. Stark white sheets cover most of Camilla’s petite form. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume she’s enjoying a midday nap.
Grady is there, hunched over the mattress, motionless and waiting. The torrent of sorrow in his green eyes is a punch to my sternum. I choke out a garbled breath. His raw expression showers me with a downpour of emotions. Remaining upright is no longer an option.
I collapse onto the empty chair beside him. My forehead kisses his. “I’m so damn sorry, Gray.”
He folds into me, a tremor wracking his entire body. “Thank you for coming. I can’t do this by myself. Not anymore.”
“Of course, baby. You never have to be alone again. I’ll always be by your side.”
His arms cinch around me in an unrelenting hold, as if I’ll vanish at any moment. “I don’t know what to do, Sutt.”
I stroke a palm down his bowed back. “Are there options?”
A cutting jerk of his head. “Only one. I c-can’t even say it.”
Sweat prickles along my hairline. “Nothing needs to be decided right away.”
“Why delay the inevitable?” His haunted tone vibrates my bones.
“Who found her?” I study Camilla in front of us. “What happened?”
The heat of his mouth is a puff across my neck. “For whatever reason, the landlord dropped in to see her. She was already unconscious and barely breathing. The doctor listed off all sorts of failures with her body. He thinks the stroke is what caused the most damage to her brain. But she’s been in a perpetual nosedive my entire life. I guess she finally crashed.”
My chest jerks with a shuddering wheeze. “That’s so sad. I can’t believe it. We were just with her, alive and seemingly well.”
Grady straightens, those piercing green eyes lasering into me. “Did you know she was sick?”
I baulk at that. “How could I?”
He scrubs a palm down his face. “Maybe she mentioned it during your private chat.”
I allow the edges of my lips to tip up with the slightest hint of a smile. The motion is shaky, but it holds. “All she did was talk about you, Gray. She asked me about your job. What your hobbies are. How long we’ve been dating. Where you live. Your dreams and goals and wishes. She wanted to know what you’re passionate about. What makes you tick. We played a one-sided game of twenty questions. She was a sponge for any drop of information on you. I was also told to keep our conversation a secret.”
“Damn. I can almost believe she meant well.” He lets a few choice words loose. Moisture collects on his lashes when he blinks. “No mention of not feeling well?”
“She avoided answering anything about herself. I tried to engage deeper, but nope.”
His posture deflates. “This is very surreal for me. I don’t even know her. She birthed me, and gave me life. But what else? A bunch of bad blood and toxic memories.”
I rest my head on his shoulder. “She’s always going to be your mother.”
Grady’s throat bobs. “I know.”
“There aren’t many moments I can share about your mom. Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen her since we were in high school. I wasn’t sure what to expect when we pulled in. That trailer park leaves a lot to be desired. A graveyard of broken dreams. But your mom was kind to me, in her own way.”
“I’m really glad you had that time with her.”
