Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I remember Zane’s instructions as we reach the round circular desk, where the receptionist is. Don’t talk to anyone. Keep your eyes down. Don’t draw attention. Staring down at our joined hands like they’re the most majestic thing I’ve ever seen, I let Zane do all the talking while pretending like I’m not interested in the conversation.
“She’s in the ICU. I’ll send you down there, and one of the nurses will meet with you,” the receptionist says. I don’t even bother commenting on the fact that she’s checking Zane out, drool basically dribbling down her chin. Jealousy has no place in my heart right now.
“Thank you,” Zane says with a smile, and we had in the direction of the ICU, following the signs in the hospital.
When we reach the unit, there is a set of double doors that you have to be buzzed to get into. Zane squeezes my hand tighter and turns to me.
“It’s going to be hard to see her like this. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“We’re here, and we’re going in. I don’t care what condition she’s in. I need to see her.” My voice cracks, and my heart splinters in my chest. Zane nods and presses the button for us to be buzzed in. A second later, the door opens, and we walk into the ICU unit. There are monitors everywhere and things that sound like alarms going off.
Zane guides us up to yet another desk, where a woman in scrubs greets us.
“Hi, we’ve come to see Donna Miller.”
The nurse walks around the desk and comes over to us, a folder in her hand. “Come with me, and we will discuss her condition.”
I can hardly breathe, and suddenly I feel dizzy. Latching onto Zane’s arm, I let him guide us where we need to go. “Donna is in critical condition right now. She’s on a ventilator, and her brain function is…” The nurse pauses and frowns when she sees my reaction. I’m pretty sure I look like I’m about to pass out.
“She doesn’t have any brain function?” I ask, my voice breaking at the end.
“This is very common after a stroke. Her brain was without oxygen for too long. The doctors have been looking for any brain activity, any signs that she’ll recover, but as of this morning, there was nothing. I’m so sorry. The doctors have done all they can at this point. I can let you see her.”
The tears I was holding back break free, and I swallow down a sob as I bury my face into Zane’s side. He releases my hand and wraps his arms around me, holding me a little tighter. She’s gone. The one and only person I ever had is gone. Physically, she’s still here, but in the sense of her really being here, her spirit, she’s gone.
The nurse takes us to her room, and what I see when I step inside has the ground crumbling beneath my feet. My knees go weak, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Donna. My sweet mom has tubes going in and out of her body everywhere. Her body is so still she doesn’t even look alive, and in a way, I guess she isn’t.
“I’ll leave you alone for a bit,” the nurse says, dismissing herself. The room spins around me, and I press a hand to my forehead to steady myself.
“Are you okay?” Zane’s gravelly voice fills my ears. He turns me to face him, his hands circle my arms, holding me in place and blocking my view of Donna.
“She’s just…” A sob escapes my lips, and I press my face into his shirt, gripping onto the fabric. It’s like I’m losing everything.
“It’s okay. I told you this was going to be hard, and it is. But you should be allowed to say goodbye. She would want that.” I nod, blubbering into his shirt. I’m a mess, a complete mess. How will I survive this?
“I’m okay. I need to do this.” I speak out loud, even though the words are just for me. Zane nods and takes a step back, releasing me, though it seems it’s the last thing he wants to do. With him out of the way, I stand there for a long time, just staring at her. The woman who supported me when I felt hopeless. She nurtured and watered me, turned a wilted rose into a woman. I was lost before her and found the instant we met. Now she’s leaving me again, and it feels like all those times I was left behind. Never the child picked. Forever alone.
Forcing my feet to move, I walk over to the side of the bed. I take her hand in mine. It’s cold and makes me shiver at the touch. Of course, she doesn’t react to my touch. She doesn’t squeeze my hand. Doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m there. The machines she’s hooked up to make her chest rise and fall.