Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
The beeping of machines is all too familiar and slams home exactly where I am.
The hospital.
The strangest part is that I have no memory of how I got here.
“I think she’s finally waking up.”
Mom.
I would recognize her anxiety-riddled voice anywhere.
Truth be told, it’s a relief to know she’s here and that I’m not alone.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad murmurs. “Look who’s returned to the land of the living. We’ve been worried about you.”
Only now do I realize that my head is throbbing a steady beat. “It kind of feels like I’ve been run over by a truck.” I search my memory for more information but come up empty. “What happened?”
“You caught the flu and got dehydrated.”
I glance at the IV taped to the back of my hand.
It’s a sight I’d hoped to never see again.
Mom slips her fingers around mine, drawing my attention to her. “Honey, why didn’t you call me when you didn’t feel well? I would have come over and taken care of you. I knew you weren’t being careful and sanitizing. And look what happened.” When her voice continues to escalate, I wince. “You ended up in the hospital!”
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed in an attempt to block her out.
“Rebecca,” Dad says with a heavy sigh. “Let’s save that conversation for a later date. This isn’t the time or place.”
Mom sends him an icy glare. “Of course it is. It’s the perfect time for Willow to realize that she can’t take these kinds of foolish risks with her health. She needs to be more vigilant.”
My tongue darts out to lick my chapped lips. “I refuse to spend my life living inside a bubble.”
“That’s not what I said.” She huffs.
“Yes, it is. You’d be much happier if I lived at home and didn’t attend college or get a job.”
“That’s not true!” Her voice falters as tears gather in her eyes. “I just want you to stay healthy. Is that such a crime?”
I force myself to meet her searching gaze and say the things I’ve wanted to get off my chest for the past couple years. “No, it isn’t. But it feels like I’ve been given a second chance, and what I want most is to live every day to the fullest without regret.” I pause and allow those words to sink in. I need her to hear me. Really hear me this time. “And you don’t want me to do that.”
She gasps. “Willow!”
I struggle to pull myself up to a seated position. “It’s true, Mom. I’m tired of watching everyone do all the things I want to experience. I’m tired of being the sick girl. I played that part enough in high school. I don’t want to do it anymore.” As much as I know this will hurt, it needs to be said. “Sometimes it feels like that’s what you want me to be so you can continue coddling me.”
A single tear treks down her cheek. “I…” Her voice trails off as she glances away before swiping at the moisture. “I’m just so afraid of losing you. When the doctors first diagnosed you with leukemia, it felt like the floor was ripped out from beneath us. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared or prayed so hard in my life.” A suffocating silence falls over us as she chews her lower lip. “I’m sorry if that’s the way I came across. It was never my intention.”
Guilt rushes in to drown me. As much as I don’t like the sight of her tears, there’s relief in finally getting my feelings out in the open.
“I just…love you so much.”
I suck a fresh breath of air into my lungs before gradually releasing it back into the atmosphere. “I know, Mom. And when I was diagnosed, you quit your job and put your life on hold to care for me. I’m appreciative of that. But right now, what I need most from you is a little bit of space. Not everything is a catastrophe. Sometimes, I’m going to mess up and make mistakes. And, just like everyone else, I’m going to get sick. All I can say is that I’ll do my best not to die on you.”
When her expression turns to one of horror, the corners of my lips tremble. “That was a joke.”
She glares. “Not funny. But I get it, and I’ll try to do better. Promise.”
I nod.
That’s all I can ask for.
My gaze settles on my brother, who’s been strangely quiet throughout our conversation. We haven’t spoken much since the night he drove me home from the bar.
And I hate it.
“Hey, sis. We were worried about you.” He flicks a glance at our mother. “Mom nearly shit a brick.”
“River,” she snaps. “Watch your language.”
“What?” He gives me a conspiratorial wink. “It’s true.”
She purses her lips.
Now seems like a good time to cut in. “How’d you find out I was here?”