Filed to story: Sinful Mates (Imogen) Book by Jessica Hall
The hospital said they couldn’t keep her in this state forever and tried to have her life support shut off last month. After appealing their decision to turn off her life support, I’d pushed it to nearly five months. I’m still waiting to hear from the Medical Ethics Association. I know it is a battle I will lose. But for now, it has granted me extra days with her.
It’s only a matter of time before they pull the plug on her and tell me I have to say goodbye-also the reason why I live in my car. Mom’s medical bills are expensive, and even when the time comes to switch her off, I will have to live in my car for at least another two years to finish paying the debt off. My medical insurance covers a dependent child or spouse, so it is no use. My mother doesn’t even have medical insurance. She worked cash in hand and struggled to keep a job for long.
I know most people think it’s wishful thinking that she will wake up, but I can’t give up on her. She taught me to walk, talk, use a spoon, and how to ride a bike. From the beginning, she has been by my side. She was my first friend. In fact, she is my only friend. She raised me as a single mom from the time I was born. My father walked out when he found out she was expecting. I never met the man; frankly, I don’t care to meet him.
I lost our house after three weeks of not being able to pay the mortgage. It turned out we were already months behind when the accident happened, and my mother had kept it from me. I had to choose to keep mom alive or keep the house. So, I chose her.
I know she would have done the same for me. I know I’m delaying the inevitable, but how do you kill your mom? Kill the one person who spent your entire life loving and supporting you? When the time comes, I need to know I have tried everything, or I know I won’t be able to live with the guilt.
I look down at my mother; she appears to be sleeping, besides the tube hanging out of her mouth that forces her to breathe and is keeping her alive. She has numerous tubes hanging out of her skinny arms.
My mother used to be strong, lively, and happy. She looked younger than her age. With her blonde hair that was just below her shoulder blades, she had excellent skin, no wrinkles, full pink lips, and a tan complexion. She looked great for a 45-year-old.
But now, her skin has turned gray from the lack of sunlight, and her hair has become oily and flat as she has lost the ability to care for it daily. She has lost all her weight and muscle mass and is now skin and bone. She is wasting away in this hospital bed, a living corpse. Sitting in the blue chair, I scoot closer to the bed and grab her hand.
“Hey Momma, I miss you.” I brush her hair off her forehead, which is stuck to her skin. I listen to the beep of her heart monitor, hearing it beep regularly and the sound of the ventilator forcing her to breathe. It is the same set of sounds every day. I used to come and sit with her for hours and tell her about my day or read to her. But after a couple of months, I just tell her I love her. I have run out of things to say.
I miss her soft voice telling me everything is going to be okay. I miss the way she made everything look effortless. Lila Riley may not have been a perfect mother, but she’d been perfect to me. Yeah, she had a drinking problem, but other than that, I know she did the best she could with the hand life had dealt her.
There was never a lack of love, and no matter how badly I fucked up, she was always there to help me pick up the pieces and rebuild.
When I watch her, I think of all the things she will miss and all the memories she won’t get to be a part of.
After sitting with her for a while, I quickly duck into the small bathroom. The nurse Sally is on night shift tonight and always lets me shower here. It’s the only time I get to shower with warm water. Not hot, but like lukewarm bath water as the showers are temperature regulated. Still, I don’t complain. Warm water is far better than cold. The other people in this room need assistance and are bedridden like my mother, so I don’t have to worry about anyone opening the door, but I always lock it just in case a cleaner or nurse decides to stop in.
Showering quickly, I wash my hair and my body, scrubbing extra good while I have the power of warm water. When I’m done, I hop out, dry myself off and slip into my track pants so I don’t have to change in the cramped car. I also slide my feet into some socks before putting on a pair of flats. I then jam everything back into my oversized handbag while making my way back to my mother’s side to say goodbye.
Sitting on the table next to my charging phone are some club sandwiches. Sally must have come in while I was in the shower. She knows my situation and that I have little left over after I pay the hospital, so every shift she is on, I always find sandwiches or any leftover food from the cafeteria on the table waiting for me.
Tonight’s gourmet dinner comprises thick cheese and sliced tomato sandwiches. I’m starving, having not eaten anything but some dry crackers the entire day. I devour the two sandwiches just before Sally returns with a plastic bag in hand. Sally is the same age as me, 23. She has dark hair cut into a pixie cut, dark brown eyes, and she is about 5’6 tall with a slim build. She’s an attractive woman and has a kind heart. Sally is my favorite nurse here; always happy to explain anything I don’t understand and has terrific bedside manner.
Every shift, she makes time to see me. When she walks in, I stand up, and she wraps me in a warm hug, rubbing my back softly. Handing the bag over to me, I find some bottles of water and a small orange juice, which I quickly grab out to wash the sandwiches down. Sally’s also been to the vending machine and grabbed a few protein bars and some chips. I also find, to my delight, a few pieces of fruit.
“I was hoping you were still in the shower. I know you don’t like accepting help, but you really need to start taking care of yourself. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? You look so skinny.” I give her a small smile. It’s hard keeping my emotions in check around her. Sally has seen me at my most vulnerable. She tugs on my shirt and track pants, trying to emphasize how much weight I’ve lost. I’m not blind. I know I have lost a lot of weight. My clothes don’t fit as they should. I even have to roll some of my pants just to get them to stay on my hips.
“I know, I’ve been trying. It is just so hard with how chaotic my life is at the moment.”
Sally sighs and grips my shoulder. “I have to get back to work, but don’t forget to eat. I’m on shift again on Wednesday. So, I will bring a few things for you.” She jams the plastic bag into my handbag and zips it up to make sure I take it when I leave, before she walks out to tend to her other patients.
Sitting back down, I wait for my phone to charge a bit more before unplugging it. It’s now 8:30 PM. I have to be back before nine to make sure I don’t get locked out. Leaning down, I place a kiss on my mother’s head before walking out and heading back to my car.
The walk back is quick. Tonight isn’t too cold, thank goodness. I open my trunk, grab my duvet and pillow, and quickly climb into the front seat, reclining the seat all the way back. I snuggle underneath my blanket and close my eyes, praying that sleep will come easy.
The next morning, I wake up nice and warm, wrapped up like a human burrito in my duvet. My alarm blares loudly and vibrates on my dash. Groaning, I reach up and switch the damn thing off before the noise gives me a raging headache. Stretching, my body is aching from being in the same position all night. I miss my bed; I miss stretching out and being able to roll around without worrying about getting a seat belt clicker jammed into my backside.
Opening the driver’s door and spilling out, I stand up and bend over, touching my toes, then stretch my back and shoulders. Once I stretch like a cat, I open the door to the rear passenger side. I always have a few outfits hanging up in the back on the days I don’t set them up the night before. Snatching up some dressy dark blue skinny-leg jeans, a black zip-up blouse, and my blazer. I pull my bra under my shirt and slip my arms inside to maneuver it until I get it in position.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, I quickly rip off my pants and replace them with my jeans. Standing up, I realize they are practically falling off me. Damn, these are my favorites. Popping the trunk, I rummage around until I find a serviceable belt, but even that isn’t enough. With a sigh, I use my car keys to punch an extra hole in the belt to get it to the size I need to hold my damn pants up. Once done, I peel my shirt off and shrug my blouse on, pulling the zipper up just in time to hear the roller doors to the parking garage open.
Bending down, I check myself in the car window. I look decent enough. This is one of my favorite tops. It was a little too small before the change in my living situation, but now it fits like a second skin, making my large bust stand out more and leaving ample cleavage. I rarely like showing off my assets, but this top? They look fucking fantastic, even if I do say so myself. Quickly grabbing my black heels, I slip them on and bend over to do the straps.
Once I’m finished, I walk down the ramp to meet Tom. His face instantly lights up. “There is my girl. How was your night?”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?