Page 94 of Catch You

A sob rumbles up my throat as I stare at her looking old, weak, and tiny in the hospital bed.

“C-can I sit with her?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need. Call if you need anything.”

He points to a red button that I glance at, and after a few seconds, he completes the notes he was writing when I entered and leaves me to it.

Blowing out a shaky breath, I pull the empty chair closer to my aunt’s side. I find her hand resting on top of the stark white sheet and take it in mine. It’s cold and, I swear, thinner than the last time I held it.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper around the ball of emotion clogging my throat.

I’d told her time and time again that I’d move in. That I’d keep an eye on her and make sure she had everything she needed. But she always refused. And I let her. I should havepushed it further. I should have been there. It shouldn’t have been down to the neighbors to rescue her.

What if she weren’t in the garden?

A sob hits me at the thought. If I forgot to ring and check on her at lunch and then got distracted by Corey after work, I might not have touched base with her today … and she’d have been…

I lose my fight with my tears and drop my forehead to her shoulder as I cry.

I knew this day was coming. I thought I’d somewhat prepared myself for it. But I didn’t realize that nothing could possibly compare to this agonizing moment. She’s all the family I’ve got left, and there is literally nothing I can do to save her right now. No amount of money in the world would be able to keep her here with me.

It would be selfish to even try.

She’s made her wishes very clear from the first time she was diagnosed. When her time came, she wanted to go with dignity. I agreed—what else could I do? But I never could have imagined back then what this moment would feel like, knowing that she’s slipping away from me.

The minutes pass with the beeping of the machines around me and my aunt’s shallowing breaths.

I forget about everything else, about Corey’s anger, about work and the ball, and just focus on this moment, hoping like hell that she knows that I’m here, that I’m supporting her in the only way I can.

Nurses come and go, checking her vitals, but none of them give me any kind of indication that things are improving. With each visit, any hope I had that the doctor might have been wrong starts to dwindle until all that’s left is despair.

“Harlow.” The sound of my name barely registers, and it’s not until I’m physically pulled from the chair and into my best friend’s arms that I realize I’m no longer alone. “I’m sorry it tookme so long to get here,” she whispers into my ear, and she holds me.

“She’s … she’s going, B.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

When we part, Brooke’s cheeks are almost as tear-stained as mine.

She takes my face in her hands and stares into my eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

I nod at her. I know she’s not trying to tell me that my aunt will be okay, no one can do that, but she’s telling me that I’m strong enough, that I can do this and survive.

Brooke drags over the other chair in the room so she can sit beside me.

“Here, it’s got all the extras. Thought you could probably use them.” She hands me a Starbucks cup that I didn’t even realize she’d brought in with her.

“Thank you,” I mutter, popping the top off and looking down at the cream and marshmallows hiding beneath.

We sit in silence while we sip on our drinks, lost in our thoughts.

“Don’t you think the smell in this place is stronger than ever?” I ask Brooke when the silence and the incessant beeping becomes too much to bear.

“Uh … smells like normal hospital to me. Sterile and cold.”And likedeath. I nod. I’ve probably just been surrounded by it for too long. Although I have no idea how long I’ve actually been here.

“Have they said anything about timings or …” Brooke trails off. She wants to ask the question about as much as I want to hear the answer.

“Nope. All they’ve said is that they don’t think she’ll wake up. But it’s all guesswork, really.”

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