Page 62 of Love Not Qualified

Haelyn was silent, her eyes dropping to my mouth as her own hand found the crook of my neck. She seemed like she wanted to say something—do something—but instead, she dropped her head back to where it was on my shoulder, a shuddered sigh rolling over between us.

“My mom,” she croaked out. “She’s—she’s been paralyzed for four years and the doctors think it’s time to disconnect her… from the machines.” Haelyn sucked in a breath, her fingers holding tighter on my coat. “I have two weeks to decide. Two weeks to decide whether it’s time to kill my own mother or not.”

My mind spiraled. Could her Dad be the one responsible for this? Was this why she held such a grudge against alcohol? Icouldn’t imagine a young woman taking care of her mother on her own…

Then it hit me.

“What’s your mother’s name?” I asked.

She sniffled, looking up at me, but I was too frozen to return the glance. “Diane Ross,” Haelyn hesitantly replied. “Why?”

Diane Ross. The woman whose health care I had paid a portion of for one year.

The Vital Clinic had a yearly list sent to big donors where they could choose to anonymously help someone once their insurance rose to limits they couldn’t reach. When my eyes stumbled upon a woman named Diane whose husband was in prison after killing their son and who only had a daughter to take care of her, I didn’t hesitate to choose her.

How didn’t I make the connection sooner?

My air whooshed out of my lungs.

Haelyn Ross was Diane Ross’ daughter.

TWENTY-TWO

HAELYN

I stared at the white wall in front of me with paths of dried tears from the corner of my eyes to the tip of my chin. A lump rested at the top of my throat but after two days of crying, I was left with no tears left to cry. I swallowed, resting my head on my knees.

My mother was the only person I had. All I did—starving myself, overworking, and the lack of sleep—was for her, and now I was expected to decide whether it’s time to let her go or not. How could I know that? I could’ve asked her, but it didn’t seem like a question to put to a woman who for the past years had lain in a bed, learning how to accept it as her life.

I ground my teeth. It’s not fair. It wasn’t fair that hope bloomed in my chest as the days passed—that one day, she was going to recover and things were going to return to how they used to be. It wasn’t fair I was the one who had to make the decision.

And it wasn’t fair that a beautiful young woman like Diane Rose fell in love with an attractive and rebellious guy in her class who turned out to be the one to end her life. Will might not have killed her, but he left her in a body that required constant care, unable to move a finger after a whole life of being independent.And worse, he killed Nash in cold blood. A father who killed his own son.

My fingers dug into my palms as I clenched them into a fist.

He killed my little brother and even though I knew prison was worse than death—because dying would’ve ended it too fast for him and his sins—I wish I had gotten my revenge. The urge has always lingered in the back of my head, and picturing his death was the only thing that could make me sleep.

Family was supposed to be the one to offer you a hand when you needed it, not to push you until you stumbled on your feet. To kiss your scars, not cause them. To love you, not to make you believe love didn’t exist.

“Tea?” Merielle appeared in my face, holding a cup with steam rising into the air. She smiled down at me and I didn’t know what had gotten into me at that moment, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

“Nash is dead,” I blurted, and watched how her soft eyes rounded in shock.

“What?” Her voice was a whisper when she sat down next to me, placing the cup on the small table in front of us. “Haelyn.” Merielle’s hand grabbed onto my elbow, but I didn’t look at her. “What are you saying? I thought he was traveling.”

I shook my head, the dagger that had been buried deep in my heart for too long twisting. I gasped for air, my eyes burning, yet no tears fell down. “He died one year ago.”

She took her palm away, leaning forward as she pressed her elbows on her knees. Merielle rubbed a hand over her face, registering my words. After a few moments of silence, she turned to me.

“You told me he was traveling,” she insisted in denial. “You told me that when you and your Mom moved from Compton, he wanted to live with his grandmother in Spain,” she continued.

When I finally placed my gaze on her, her nostrils flared as her eyes filled with tears. She brought a shaky hand to her temples, waiting for me to answer. I blinked slowly, then shook my head again.

“I lied,” I finally admitted. While the knife sank in my chest still twisted and twisted, a heavy rock lifted at telling the truth.

“Haelyn, I—I,” she slurred, jumping to her feet as she moved from side to side. “You l-lied? What does this mean?” Then she crouched down to her knees in front of me, her warm palms resting on my arm. “Why did you lie?” Her voice shook. I didn’t know what to say, but she rocked my body in desperation. “Why did you lie, Haelyn? I thought you knew you could trust me?”

My mouth opened once and closed before I could form proper words. “I was ashamed.” My head lowered into my chest as I dragged my knees closer.

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