Mother.
What’s left of my family sits directly on the other side of the wall, along with the girl I’m hopelessly in love with. So close yet so oblivious to the emotional war happening a wall away.
I lick my lips and bring my fingers up to trace the bottom one. A minute ago, I had them pressed to Violet’s. I’d give anything to take this day back, to restart it, to find a way to solve Mom’s problem and avoid ending up here. The love thatconsumes me when I curl into Violet’s backside in the early morning hours before we’re both up and at it for the day is ten million times better than what threatens to take me down in this room.
My palm spreads out over the wall. It keeps me anchored in place. The ache in my chest expands toward my extremities. As often as the thought of Mom overdosing came up over the years, I never thought it’d actually happen. For so long, I lived in denial, thinking that all it’d take is for her to get back into rehab for our problems to be solved. Hell, even up until I walked into this hospital, I thought she still had time.
I see now that this was always meant to be the outcome.
But I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’m not ready to bury my fucking Mom.
The realness of death grips me by the throat and forces my head off the wall. I tamp down my feelings because now isn’t the time. When things are sorted, I’ll have all the time in the world to feel empty.
Breathing in the deepest sigh I can muster, I pivot and yank my suit jacket off. I toss it on the counter to my left as I slowly make my way closer to the bed, my knuckles trailing the thin sheet covering her until it bumps into what I know is her hand. Emotion clogs my eyes when the chill in it brushes against my palm.
Using my foot, I drag a nearby chair closer and drop into it, my body too heavy to hold up on my own. I curl my hand around hers, and not for the first time since I was a preteen, I sob over Mom’s choices and wish things were different.
And just like then, I know they never will be.
FOUR
VIOLET
Violet:Colson’s mom died.
Everleigh:You’re lying.
Violet:We’re at the hospital right now.
Everleigh:How’s Colson holding up?
Violet:Not good.
Everleigh:And what about you?
Violet:Also not good.
I thoughtthere’d be more privacy back here, but as it turns out, the room Colson’s in is surrounded by other emergency hubs where hospital staff are constantly coming and going. The nurse and doctor stations take up the middle section of the area, and from where we sit, we have a full view of them taking care of those who are still pumping blood through their bodies.
My eyes flit to a blonde-haired RN who I’ve seen shimmy by too many times to count. From what I’ve learned by watching,she’s assisting with a difficult patient at the other end of the ER. We’ve heard the patient shout and holler in discomfort, but my mind can’t focus on much more than the man in the room behind me.
We passed the hour mark about ten minutes ago. I think the only reason the doctors haven’t come by to remind us of that is because they’re too busy with other patients to care.
But it’s only a matter of time before one of them comes along and cuts his time short.
Time with his mother that he’ll never get again.
Bess keeps checking the time on her watch. It’s interesting to see how devoted she is to her nephew, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re there to pick up the slack of a sister more consumed with narcotics than her only son. Thad is similar, glancing at the door occasionally, but he’s quieter and more reserved in his ways. Less noticeable. He doesn’t check his watch or complain about how long we’ve waited. He just curls his hand into his wife’s in an attempt to soothe away the terrible grief of a lost sister.
“You doing okay?” Sebastian asks, pulling me from my people-watching. His voice is low but no less kind than it always is. When Colson dropped in front of me and pressed his lips to mine, I damn near broke down. Sebastian took my hand gently after, and in a way, it was like he was saying,see, I told you he needs you.
That single moment has been my only comfort.
“Yeah, you think he’s okay in there? It’s been a while.”
“If you were in his shoes, would you be okay?”
“No,” I swallow. “I’d be losing my shit.”
