"I can do this," I say more to myself but he hears the low murmur.
His hands cup my shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Yes, you can. You're strong, Grace. Remember I always have faith in you."
I take another deep breath with the hopes of it gathering me more strength, but it doesn't. It only buys me another moment before greeting the inevitable.
With a hand that surprisingly doesn't shake I open the door to my mom's room.
As I take the first step inside I immediately hear the heart monitor. It rings louder than everything else, as if it's on full blast. The fact that I hear her heart beat should calm me but it does nothing of the sort.
Because how long will her heart beat until it finally gives out from all the abuse she's inflicted upon it?
With Oak's hand at the small of my back he helps lead me further into the room.
And then I see her.
A breathing tube is placed in her mouth and I know the tube continues it's descent down her esophagus. IV's are hooked in her veins; except this time it's filled with medicine and not toxicdrugs. Her skin is alabaster white and the bruises that have bloomed on her arms are vivid in color.
She looks so frail, as if one touch from me can break her bones.
Her hair, once the same voluminous and sandy blonde as mine is dirty and lifeless. It's thinned out drastically over the years due to her drug use but seeing it under the fluorescent lights I can see the few bald spots.
She used to be so achingly beautiful. Now looking at her I hardly recognizable the woman I adored.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes remembering the woman she used to be. The woman who was a loving and caring mother.
Why did she have to go?
Oak's hand from the small of my back disappears as I come closer to my mom. I come to a stop on the side of her bed away from the medical machinery.
Somewhere deep inside I have to believe the mom I knew is still in there.
My lips pull upwards but my smile is woeful. "I used to wish for the days where mom would just be quiet. When she was itching for her next high she would be quite hateful." I pause as I think of all the times she spewed at Connor and me. "It was a relief when she was silent. But now I find no relief in it at all." My smile turns sardonic as my eyes cut over to Oak, whose eyes are filled with pain and concern. "It's funny isn't it? How life works. It's sick fucking twist of humor."
My vision blurs as the tears pull in my eyes. Oak becomes a silhouette. "Do you think I'll hear her voice again?" My question comes out more as a broken plea.
Before I know it I’m wrapped in his arms. If I could I would sink myself into him. Embed myself in his skin and stay there until the end of time.
"She'll wake up, Grace," he assures me.
In a muffled voice I ask, "How can you be so sure?"
"Because Alice woke up. Because after three months so did Snake. It might not be today or tomorrow but she will wake up, Grace."
And for some reason unbeknownst to me I wholeheartedly believe him.
A knock at the door has me pulling back but Oak keeps me secure in his arms.
The doctor walks in with a stoic expression upon her face. Her dark hair is pulled back tight in a ponytail with no single hair out of place. Her eyes widen comically at Oak first. That, I can understand. Because although he's beautiful he's also downright intimidating to approach.
Her eyes then meet mine and they're no longer wide. "Ms. Vale, I presume?" There's a slight stutter in her voice. From fear or uncomfortableness I don't know.
"Grace," I correct her. She nods her head with a brief smile.
"I'm sorry to inform you about your mother." She nods over to my mom with sympathy in her eyes. "I would like to discuss her diagnosis and prognosis with you but I'm afraid your partner will have to wait outside of the room." Her eyes cut back to Oak with apprehension.
Oak's body becomes stiff behind me, his arm wrapping around my middle tighter, his stance immovable. "I'm not leaving her," he resolutely tells her.
"Sir," the doctor begins hesitantly, "I understand you want to offer her support but-"
