Shutting him out of my mind, I prepare for another afternoon sitting and staring at a sleeping woman, wishing she was able to give me some answers.
Silently, I make my way over to her bed and lower myself to the chair that’s still here.
She looks better today. Some of the tubes are gone and there’s a little colour on her face.
It’s a good sign, and it makes that hope I don’t want to feel start to bloom within me.
My skin tingles with awareness, telling me that Theo’s stopped flirting with the nurse and has joined me.
“Mary said she’s doing well. Much better than they expected.”
His deep voice rumbles through me and makes me achingly aware of how much I’ve missed hearing it in the few short hours since he’s gone mute on me.
And it seems I’m not the only one it affects, because Mum’s eyes pop open.
“Mum,” I breathe, shooting to the edge of the seat and reaching for her hand without thinking.
“Emmie,” she whispers, looking at me through glazed, medicated eyes.
Theo clears his throat and her attention leaves me in favour of the guy standing at the end of her bed.
A look I don’t think I’ve ever seen before passes across my mother’s face as she stares at him.
Fear. Pure, undiluted fear.
“G-get away from my daughter.” Her voice is quiet, croaky, but I don’t miss the desperation within it.
Theo’s eyes shoot to me for a beat before he looks back at Mum.
“I’ll… uh… give you two some privacy. I’ll wait outside.”
He gives me a weak, forced smile before backing out of the room.
“Oh my God,” Mum whimpers the second the door closes. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“Mum. Mum,” I say, taking both her hands in mine. They’re bony and cold, not at all like I remember from my childhood those few times she comforted me like a real caring mother. “It’s okay. He’s gone. It’s okay.”
But her panic at seeing him—seeing us—gets the better of her.
Her chest heaves, the machines around us begin to beep incessantly, and after only thirty seconds, two nurses come running in.
They check the monitors while I take a step back, terrified that I’m witnessing my mother have a heart attack or something.
“Cora. Cora,” one of the nurses says softly. “Can you breathe for me, sweetie? In out, in out. That’s it. Good girl.”
As fucking patronising as it might be, it actually works.
“It’s okay,” the other nurse says when she glances back at me. “Just a panic attack.”
I nod. Although her words do help the situation, I can’t say they make me feel all that much better.
Just a panic attack. Yeah, but because of Theo. Why?
Why is she so terrified of him?
Dread sits heavy in my stomach for what he might have done, for all the secrets that are just piling up, all the lies he’s told me.
It takes almost fifteen minutes before the nurses are confident enough to leave us alone. And when they do, I take the chair beside her once more and hold one hand between both of mine.