irrevocable

{Nineteen}

Ivy // Taylor Swift

Holly

A nurse rushes into Mom's room with wide eyes.

"You have a visitor," she says before glancing over her shoulder to the open doorway. Dad steps into the room, a murderous look in his eyes that he masks with a casual stance.

"Found ya." He winks at the nurse. "Thanks, darlin'. Mind leaving us be for a bit? Haven't seen my wife since being on the road. Just got back into town to hear she's sick."

I start to scoff but cover it with a cough before looking down. Mom's been sick for years. This isn't new information.

The nurse glances at dad, then back to me. "Of course. I'll be right outside the door if you need anything."

I nod. The only reason I'm not losing my shit is that we're already in a hospital room. He won't do anything here. It's the thought of trying to leave him that has me tied in knots. I don't know what we're going to do, and Mom has either been too scared to leave him or completely in denial.

The nurse leaves the room. Dad makes sure the door closes behind her. I feel my anxiety rise being in a closed room with him. My cheek throbs although I resist the urge to reach up and soothe the spot in front of my dad, the memory of him shoving me into the door-jam still fresh in my mind. He saunters to the window. Dread fills my entire body.

Leaning against the wall as he glances out the window, I watch as his hand slips into his front pocket. He pulls out my phone.

"Been going off all day," he mutters. His eyes stay fixed on whatever he sees through the glass outside, never meeting mine. "Someone must want to talk to you awful bad."

I swallow. Mom coughs.

"When did you get back into town?" Mom asks with utter innocence. I'm starting to wonder if all fear of him has been beat out of her. I've never seen him actually hit her, but with the way he refuses assistance, sneers that she's lazy, treats her like garbage...how can she be so casual around him?

"Today. Just in time to cross paths with Holly and hear that you'd been brought in. This'll cost a pretty penny we don't have."

Mom coughs again. "I know. I told her I'd be alright, but the doctor tells me I'm sicker than I thought."

My eyes stay on my phone in my dad's hand, watching as it lights up every few minutes. I can only imagine Jackson going out of his mind that I'm not answering. Does he think I'm ignoring him? Is he worried about me?

"Hmm." Dad pushes off the window and walks to the opposite side of Mom's bed. "What exactly did the doc tell you?"

"I can't remember what it's called. Holly can tell you."

"Chronic Fatigue Syndrome." My eyes remain glued to my phone. From this distance I'm able to see Jackson's contact on the notification screen.

"Isn't that just fancy doctor talk for fucking tired? You don't even work, haven't for years. What the hell do you have to be tired for?"

"It's an autoimmune disease. Her immune system is weak, that's why she's always sick with the flu. It's not actually the flu. Her body is fighting like there's a virus because it thinks there is one to fight."

Dad scoffs. "Time to go. You'll be in debt up to your eyeballs if you stay." He reaches down to grab her arm.

"Stop." I lean over my mom's bed but say nothing else. Dad releases Mom's arm and grabs mine instead.

"Let go," I say as calmly as possible. I will the fear out of my voice, somehow.

"Hmm." He releases my wrist, straightening. Eyeing me. "How do you suppose to pay for all this if she doesn't leave now?"