The boy I loved more than anything was standing in front of me breaking and I was forcing myself not to put him back together. But if I gave in, if I fixed this, I knew it would only be temporary. Because there was still his father to contend with. The trial. His mom, and Jermaine. Not to mention come the fall we would both be at colleges across state.
“Asher, look at me.” He opened his eyes and I fell headfirst into a pool of sparkling blue. “I love you, I do. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“It is.” His hands cradled my face, brushing his lips over mine. “It is enough, Mya, and I’m going to prove it to you. I just need you to wait for me. Promise me, you’ll wait for me while I figure out how to fix this.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Asher, I’m not—”
“Promise me.” There was so much pleading in his eyes, so much emotion, I couldn’t deny him.
But I couldn’t say the words he wanted to hear either.
So I pressed my lips together and gave him an imperceptible nod, all while my heart was screaming, don’t let me down.
Asher
I didn’t go to school Monday. I wasn’t ready to see Mya again. Not until I figured out how the hell to fix everything. So I spent the day at the hospital, sitting with Mom. She was in and out of it for most of the morning, but I kept reminding myself the doctors said it was to be expected.
“A- Ash,” she stuttered, her voice a low croak as she crooked a shaky finger toward me.
“Hey, Mom,” I moved to the side of the bed, taking her hand in mine. “It’s good to see you awake, but try not to talk, okay?”
She gave me a weak smile. Her skin was pale and her eyes sunken into their sockets. She’d definitely seen better days, but she was here. She was lucid and she knew me.
For now, it was enough.
“Son,” Dad entered the room behind me, but his eyes immediately went to Mom. “Julia, you’re awake.” Hope filled his voice.
The man was transformed. From brooding, cold businessman to warm, concerned husband. The way he came around the other side of the bed and affectionately gazed at Mom, brushing fuzzy hair from her face. “I just spoke with your doctor. He’ll be by shortly. Can I get you anything?”
She gave a little shake of her head, squeezing my hand. “I- I have... all... need.” Her speech was slowly returning, which the doctors had told us was a good sign, but it was going to take time. Lots and lots of time. With rehabilitation and therapy, they expected significant improvement, but given the nature of her injury and damage to her brain from the cardiac arrest, they couldn’t say whether she would make a full recovery.
“My-ya… o- okay?”
I froze, my eyes wide as I tried to figure out if I’d heard right.
“Darling, I don’t think now is the time to—”
“Ssh.” Her eyes slid from his to mine, tears collecting in the corner. “I sorry, A- Ash. S-so sorry.”
“Ssh, Mom, it’s okay.” I leaned over to press a kiss to her head, guilt snaking through me as I fought my own tears. It was the first time she’d been lucid enough to try and engage in a conversation and of course, this was what she wanted to talk about.
“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” I said, giving her a warm smile.
“N- not your fault,” she rasped, each word taking her at least twice the regular amount of time to get out. “N- not her fault.”
The room felt like it was closing in around me. I stood up and said, “I’m going to get some air, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“A- Ash… didn’t m- mean upset...”
“I’m okay, Mom. I’ll be okay.” I gently pressed my head to hers, relief slamming into me.
She was here, and she was okay.
That’s what I needed to cling to.
I slipped out of the room and sat in one of the chairs lining the corridor. Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep, steady breath. It had been almost a week since she’d woken up. A week of trying to accept my new reality. Of me and Mya tiptoeing around each other. Of trying to wrack my brain for a way to fix everything.
Mya was right. I needed to fight for her. I needed to show her that I chose her, regardless of the consequences. But it was fucking hard when I was so preoccupied with Mom. Even when I’d gone into school, my mind had been elsewhere.