“Mia,” Dr. Jackson said again, resting his hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to go.”
But I didn’t want to let go of Mom. I didn’t want to never see her again. I loved her so fucking much, and something was telling me that this was the final time I’d ever see her like this. She was the only family I had left, the only person I could turn to who would love me unconditionally, the only person I loved like that.
“Mia,” Dr. Jackson said.
Mom pulled away from me, eyes filled with tears. “I love you, sweetheart.”
Dr. Jackson grabbed my arms lightly and pulled me to the door, yet I didn’t take my eyes off of Mom the entire time. I didn’t want to leave her. I couldn’t leave her. I … I couldn’t.
As soon as the door closed, I buckled over, unable to hold myself up. Everything hurt so fucking bad.
CHAPTER38
MIA
Anurse grabbed my hand. “Please, Mia, let’s get you to the waiting room.”
I stood up onto two trembling legs and stumbled to the waiting room. Tears raced down my cheeks—I could barely see through the tears in my eyes—and loud, shuddering sobs were escaping my throat.
And when I turned the corner into the waiting room, I found the first open seat and collapsed down into it, curling up into a ball and crying my eyes out. Every time someone came over to me, I pushed them away. I wanted to sit alone. Ineededto sit alone. I had dealt with this before by myself that it felt too weird to have all these people here with me.
I waited for what seemed like days, but it was only hours, nestled in the hospital chair with my knees to my chest and tears streaming down my face. Mom had sounded so defeated, like she didn’t even want to live anymore. And honestly, I didn’t blame her. Life had dealt her a shitty hand—from Dad totwoaneurysms. If I were her, I’d think the same way.
Sometime during the day, Michael walked over to me and crouched by my side, asking me if I was okay or if I wanted something to eat. But I couldn’t even look him in the eye. Melissa sat across from me, swinging her legs back and forth and staring aimlessly at the ground. I didn’t even know why she was here. It was clear from the last time I had seen her that she didn’t want anything to do with me.
The door to the waiting room opened, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want to know if Iwantedto know the outcome of Mom’s surgery yet. But I stood up anyway and tried my hardest to push back the tears. But instead of seeing a doctor, a man hobbled into the room with a walker. He pushed the silver bars across the white tiled floor and smiled at me.
“Mia,” he said, his voice shaky and gruff. “Has your mother gone into surgery yet?”
I furrowed my brows at him, and then my eyes widened. “James?”
I hadn’t seen James in four years—since the last time Mom had been in the ICU. He had been recovering from a stroke. Mom had grown quite fond of him when she was here, as their rooms were across from each other’s. Every time I came to visit, he always made her laugh. But when they moved her out, she lost contact with him. Or at least, I’d thought she did.
He gave me a weak smile and nodded, sitting down in the seat beside me. “Long time since I’ve seen you, kiddo.” James clasped his hands in his lap, eyes growing wide.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, brows furrowed.
“I’m here to see your mother. We’ve been sending letters back and forth ever since she left.” He reached behind him and into his back pocket, pulling out a bunch of envelopes. “These bad boys.”
He handed them over to me, and I opened one up, my lips pulling into a smile.
In it, there were a handful of letters on ripped napkins or coffee-stained paper from the assisted living home. Mom’s handwriting decorated all of them, and she left cute little smiley faces at the bottom. She even signed one withLove, Eden.
My heart swelled, and I clasped it to my chest. Mom had to survive. She had to. I’d thought her life had been so shitty, but she’d found happiness in even the smallest things.
I handed the envelopes back to James and grasped his shoulder. “Mom is still in surgery, but … I don’t know if she’ll make it.”
He gave a gruff laugh. “She’d better. I plan to take her on my vacation with me soon, maybe in the fall. I’ve been saving up enough money to bring her out.” He looked up at me. “I’ve been getting better.”
I squeezed his shoulder a little tighter. “She’d love that,” I whispered.
Though James was almost twenty years older than Mom—nearing sixty-five—I could tell that he’d make her smile. But … I wondered why Mom hadn’t told me about him. Was it the age gap? Had she been afraid to tell me she had been talking to someone after Dad? Maybe she hadn’t said anything because she didn’t know if it was serious between them yet or if they’d ever really be able to be together.
Whatever the reason, I was beyond glad that he was here for her. She’d told me that I needed to be strong, that I needed the right kind of love. Well, so did she. And she deserved it more than anyone. Mom had better make it. She had her entire life ahead of her. No matter her age, no matter how shitty her life had been so far, she was a fighter, and she’d fight this.
James held out his hand, and I placed mine in it, squeezing. I stared at Michael, my heart feeling lighter than it had before. I hoped, prayed, waited for a long time before Michael came over again, crouching next to me.
He took my free hand and smiled. “It’s going to be okay, Mia. No matter what happens with your mother, I’ve got you.”
