“It’s about how,” I continue, trying to make myself sound stronger than I am. “I don’t want to keep suffering, Dad. The hassle of trying to readjust my medicine for the billionth time is pointless. The meds should have reduced the inflammation to begin with. And…and it wouldn’t matter if we tried waiting it out and you know it.”
He palms his face, shaking his head and attempting to even his breathing. “I just got you back, Em.”
I simply nod.
“I just…” Tears overwhelm him.
Feelings.
Reality.
Acceptance.
“We got a year, Daddy.”
“It’s not enough.”
There’s a knock on the door.
“Sunshine?”
Mama.
Chapter Forty-One
There’s a rainbow arched over the small patch of trees outside the hospital. I don’t get to see all the bright colors because my view is obscured from the wheelchair I sit in by the large window. I’m nowhere near eye level from where the glass sits,
and the brick building hides part of the calling card I know Lo left for me.
Mama sat with me and cried for hours last night while Dad watched from the cot someone brought in. It looks more uncomfortable than my bed, which I tell Thorne they need to consider changing. It’s bad enough patients have to deal with additional discomfort, but families shouldn’t have to.
He told me he’d bring it up to someone.
I doubt he will.
Kaiden was missing in action until eight this morning. I’d fallen back asleep but never stayed in unconsciousness long. Between nurses coming in and out, Dad whispering to Mama, and Mama hissing arguments like I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t get settled.
There was an elephant in the room taking up the open space that wasn’t occupied by expensive machines and my upset parents.
I’m unsettled because I know this is it.
I can’t sleep because I’m afraid of never waking up. Just like Lo. Her body was so still when Mama came in to check on her. I’d woken up to Mama’s loud cries as she kneeled beside Lo, holding her stiff, unmoving hand.
Her eyes had been closed.
Peaceful.
Sleeping eternally.
When Kaiden showed back up, he was wearing jeans, a tee, and his letterman jacket. His feet were shoved into a pair of his favorite blue sneakers that were some fancy brand made by an ex-basketball player, which was a step in the right direction from the bare feet he sported the night before. He and Cam brought back Dad a change of clothes, so he could finally get out of the pajamas he’s worn since we arrived.
I spent that time pretending to sleep and listening to Mama and Dad argue about my wellbeing. They were trying to figure out what to do next, how to move forward. It was only when I finally opened my eyes that they painted smiles on their faces and acted like they weren’t trying to figure out how to convince me to try fighting.
Internally, I scoff.
I’ve been fighting for years. I fought for Mama’s attention. For her affection. To fit in. I’ve fought against my ill feelings toward Dad. The way I resented Lo for leaving me.
I fight myself every single day.