Nova is a recent law school graduate, clinging to her dream of becoming a sports lawyer through an internship with New York City's NHL team, hoping she can land a full time position. One problem though, the captain of the hockey team is someone she...
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The whole way to the hospital I feel like I'm going to throw up. Declan drives and looks over at me every five seconds, like he's waiting for me to implode. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I did. I don't even know when the last time I saw my mother in person.
We pull into the parking lot, and I quickly hop out of the car before pausing. I turn to Declan, hoping I can try to convince him one last time.
"Please, please wait in the car."
He shakes his head, "No chance."
He entwines his hand with mine, holding it tightly as if to tell me there was no way I was getting rid of him. He may be saying that now, but he's only scratched the surface with my mom. He has no idea what she does when I'm actually standing in front of her. Even though he says he loves me, theres a part of my brain that's nagging at me, telling me it's only temporary, that no one can love all of me. As much as his confession made me ecstatic, it also made me more scared than I've ever been, because now I actually had something to lose.
I still don't know how this was going to work. How long until he gets sick of these phone calls from my mother that I'll never stop answering, hoping that one day it'll be the woman I knew before she lost her husband?
How long until he gets tired of wiping my tears after my disappointment when I realize nothing will go back to the way it was, like I do every time she calls?
How long until he no longer wants to know every part of me, the good and the ugly, and would rather find a woman without a past that cripples her?
We walk into the lobby and ask the front desk what room number my mother is in, only for them to inform us we can't go in at the moment because they are still trying to stabilize her.
It's a strange feeling, struggling between hoping someone that treats you poorly is alright, while also having the satisfaction that if they're taking you down, they're at least going down with you.
I feel like a terrible person for thinking that, especially when it's in regards to my own mother, my own blood. The woman who gave me life, helped me take my first steps, hung my elementary school artwork in her office. Except she wasn't that woman anymore, she had become unrecognizable, someone I no longer knew.
"Nova, that's not you."
I blink, the thoughts that were just so loud in my head all of a sudden going quiet with the sound of his voice.
"Hm?"
"That's not you, the person she makes you out to be. You coming here tonight already proves that."
I give Declan a soft smile, "I know."
I don't though, not really, because after being talked down on for so long, it's hard to recognize if the parts of my inner dialogue telling me how awful I am is her talking or if it's just myself confirming her insults on my character.
