EMMIE
I freeze at the end of the bed, my body locking up with a mix of fear, anger, and confusion.
I barely recognise the woman lying there. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve found her passed out over the years, whether it be from alcohol or drugs, or at the hand of some dickhead who got a little carried away.
I shudder, and one particular memory threatens to pop up from when I was about thirteen. I’d found her in a heap in the bathroom where she’d managed to drag herself in an attempt to clean up before I’d got home from school.
I let out a sigh, feeling sorry for the woman in the bed.
Addiction took a hold of her a long time ago. For the most part, she’s held it together. She’s almost always had a job, and she even had times where I truly believed we’d find a way out.
But we always seem to end up here. Well… not here, exactly. But it’s not the first time I’ve been in a hospital room with her. Just not a private hospital in a mafia-owned ward.
Why, Mum? Why were you working for them?
She has to have known how dangerous it was.
I startle when a warm hand lands on my lower back.
“It’s okay, Em,” Theo says so softly I almost question if it’s still him. But the way my skin erupts in goosebumps confirms that it is. “Why don’t you go and sit down? I’m sure she knows you’re here.”
I’m not sure whether his words are actually comforting or not.
And while a part of me, the part that’s missed her and still wishes for things we can’t have, wants to sit beside her and take her hand, the other part wants to turn around and walk straight back out, leaving her alone with the consequences of her stupid decisions.
It’s not the latter part that wins out, though, because I find my legs carrying me toward the chair that’s beside her bed.
Lowering down, I study her face. Her skin is pale, almost translucent, like I’ve seen on old people before. Her cheeks are sullen, her lips thin and creased. She’s skinny, really fucking skinny, making me wonder just how long she’s been held captive and how poorly they treated her.
But as badly as I want to know, no words pass my lips.
I can’t force any past the giant lump of emotion that clogs my throat as I stare at the woman who should have spent all these years protecting me, fighting for me.
A sob erupts from out of nowhere, and scorching hot tears burn the backs of my eyes as I stare at the woman I wanted for so long to just be my mother. To put all the other bullshit aside and just… care.
I don’t register Theo’s movements, not until his hand slips into mine and squeezes tightly.
Glancing over, I find he’s shrugged his coat off and pulled another chair closer.
Slumping down a little in the seat, he spreads his thighs wide in a move that should not be as damn sexy as it is.
He’s not in his Cirillo uniform. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of ripped black jeans and a dark grey jumper. It should be illegal, how good it looks on him.
“Later,” he breathes with a smirk, as if he can literally read my mind.
“Whatever.”
I have no idea how long we sit there in silence with him just holding my hand.
It helps, not that I’ll ever admit that to him. But having him with me, hearing his shallow breathing beside me and the warmth of his fingers twisted with mine makes the whole situation just that little bit easier.
A nurse comes in and out a couple of times and assures us both that Mum’s making a good recovery, but that she’s still heavily medicated so not to be surprised if she doesn’t wake up.
As disappointing as it is to hear, I knew it was going to be the case the second we walked in.
She’s been through a lot, more than possibly anything she’s experienced before. Her body was already abused and weak. It’s going to take time.
It’s long been dark outside when I finally turn to Theo, who’s still sitting stoically beside me as if it’s his duty to protect me.