I see Mom tucking me in at night. She would sing her favorite rock songs to lull me to sleep. They still bring me comfort when I hear them.
I see Mom downing a bottle of whiskey after she caught Dad cheating for the umpteenth time. She threw the bottle at his head, and it shattered against the corner of the stone hearth. A piece of glass got stuck between two old woodenfloorboards, and that green shard is still there to this day. And so was she, because no matter what he did, she didn’t leave him.
Until now, I guess. Although it’s not the same.
Nothing will ever be the same.
Mom’s face is perfectly framed by the window that looks into her hospital room. The machines are off, and the tubes have been pulled out, but I lie to myself, imagining there’s still color in her cheeks. Picturing the rise and fall of her chest.
She wasn’t the most nurturing mother, and these past couple of years, she was drunk more often than not. But she was better than him.
Now it’s just me, Eden, and our father.
“Willa.” Dean’s voice makes me jump as I turn around.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and he reaches to brush it away, but I step back, out of his reach. This is what I deserve. I did this, and there’s no fixing this mess I’ve made.
Not too long ago, I was sitting beside Dean, holding his hand while they carried away his mother’s casket. How did this all shift so quickly?
“Sorry.” Dean dips his hands into his pockets.
I glance up and down the hallway. “Where’s Kincaid?”
“In the parking lot, talking to your dad and Tate.”
I breathe out an unamused laugh because, of course, that’s where Kincaid is. He’s almost better at playing this game than I am. Appeasing our fathers is what he’s good at. And now, with Mom gone and graduation over, I can only imagine what they’re planning.
Another bit of hope succumbs to the darkness inside me. There’s no escaping it now, as I stand outside Mom’s hospital room while Dad worries more about business than saying goodbye to her.
I knew he never really loved her, but to see it with such clarity is…
Heartbreaking.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I look up at Dean, who is staring at my mom through the window. “You don’t need to be here after…” Your mom died too.
I don’t say that part. I can’t.
“I’m sorry, Willa.” He drags his hand through his hair.
I shrug. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, I’m telling myself it is,” I snap.
He nods, rocking on his heels. “I was thinking about that trip you wanted to take to California. Maybe now that graduation is over, we should do it. School’s out and—”
“My mother’s dead.” My tone is cold.
Emotionless.
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, so it should hurt more than it does, but I can’t feel anything.
“Let’s sit down.” Dean steps closer, and I take a step back.
We’re usually magnets, constantly being drawn toward each other. But right now, there’s this push, this resistance. He makes me feel things I can’t right now. Not if I’m going to keep it together for my family.
For Eden.
