Not So Broken (West Coast College Book 3)

Chapter 37

Ava

The waiting room is quiet as I flip through one of the magazines they left out for patients, the walls covered with bleak art.

I glance towards the front door when the bell overhead jingles but frown when it isn't Cameron. It's been a week of reminding him that I rescheduled the appointment to today and every time I did, he would always nod in acknowledgment.

I've always hated the audiologist. The tests they run are uncomfortable, especially the audiometer evaluation when a machine makes different ranges of beeps and whistles that measures my hearing.

It's not painful or anything but even before I went partially deaf, I've always been sensitive towards louder noises and after that, they'll determine how much hearing I have left and if my condition has worsened.

I just wish Cameron was here with me, holding my hand. My eyes weld with tears that I force myself to choke down.

"Ava? Ava Van Lauren? The doctor will see you now." Blinking, I make out the older woman who's signing in front of me with a warm smile as she leads me to the back, informing me my doctor will see me shortly.

Apparently, shortly is over thirty minutes later and by the time we're done all the tests, my ears are ringing and I want to bury myself in my bed and doze off as I read my new enemies to lovers book.

Dr. Stewart sighs, removing his glasses and setting them down on his small desk before turning his attention back to me from where I sit on the uncomfortable plastic chair. "Ava. How are you doing?" He signs.

I hold the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm doing fine."

"Based off the tests we did today, your loosing your hearing at a faster rate than we originally thought." Dr. Stewart signs with sympathy. I glance down at my feet so he can't see my tears.

I can barely hear with my hearing aids in already, something I've noticed that's gotten extremely worse as the weeks fly by. "What about better hearing aids? Those would help, right?"

"Unfortunately not. The tests we did a few months ago showed you still had about twenty percent hearing in each ear but because of your degenerative condition, you have less than five percent. In each ear." He gives me a sad smile as he signs.

A strangled sob bursts out of me. I know I was loosing my hearing but I didn't expect it to be that bad. "Is there um, any-anything else?"

"The hearing aids your currently wearing will continue to do nothing for you. I would say you have a couple weeks before your hearing vanishes completely. I would suggest you stop wearing them now."

My hand flutters over the useless device attached to me before signing again. "So as of right now, I'm deaf? Officially deaf?"

Dr. Stewart nods. With a choked cry, I stand, my legs shaking underneath me. I slip my hearing aids off, setting them down on the counter beside him. "Thank you for everything you've done," I sign, reaching for the door, "I'll see you in a few weeks."

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I cried so hard on the walk home that my eyes are burning and raw, the exhaustion of these past couple of weeks suddenly hitting me like a freight train.

Everything feels heavy as I walk back to the apartment, my head spinning so fucking much I grab at my stomach to hold in my nausea.

My hand trembles as I unlock the door, blinking when I start seeing black dots in my vision. I expect to be greeted with by the sound of the TV but instead am greeted with complete and utter silence.

I reach to turn on my hearing aids but then remember I don't have them anymore and the world will always sound this bleak and boring.

My face crumples at the thought of never hearing Cameron's voice again. My chest tightens to the point that I can barely breath.

Someone taps my shoulder, and when I glance up expecting to see Cam but Mike is standing there instead, brows drawn together and face tight with worry, I burst out into tears.

I can't hear what he's asking of me, can't hear what he's saying but when he awkwardly wraps his arms around me and pushes my head onto his shoulder, I wish for nothing more than it to be Cameron the one holding me.

My fingers shake as I type out an explanation on my phone to show Mike and understanding dawns on him when he reads about my appointment earlier.

I read his lips as he speaks. "I'm so sorry, Ava." Mike swallows, stepping back, "Cameron is in his room if you want to talk to him."

"He's drunk, isn't he?" I type and he nods, lips thinned in disappointment. Shoulders sagging, I drop my bag on the table before going and changing into my pajamas, stopping outside of Cameron's closed door.

After he broke down in my arms crying last week, I really thought he was choosing the better path but two days later, he turned to alcohol again and I've been sleeping on the floor beside his bed ever since because I'm worried sick he's going to choke on his own vomit in his sleep.

Hesitating, I poke his shoulder roughly, sighing harshly when he doesn't move an inch. My teeth clench together when I see the beer bottle clutched under his bicep and only when I swipe it away from him does he jolt just slightly.

I don't know how much longer I'll be able to take this. While I'm drowning in pain, forcing my head above the water because he needs me, he let himself drown weeks ago.

He just gave up. On him. On us. Everything and everyone he cares about. Just like that, like we didn't mean anything to him. Like I don't mean anything to him.

So why the fuck am I still here, making sure he's eaten and showered, that he's on his side when he's sleeping and for every bottle I get rid of, he goes out and buys three more?

I love him so much he's dragging us both into the ground. But apparently he doesn't love me enough to even notice.

"Just let me help," I hopefully whisper, unable to hear myself, "I'm begging you, Cameron. Just let me fucking help you."

His eyes are closed peacefully, heavy bags sitting underneath. Even his usual glowy skin looks dimmed, all the usual laugh and smiles lines etched on his face gone.

"I would hate you if I could." I brush a piece of hair away from his eyes, "But I just can't. And trust me, I've tried. You told me you would be there today," I cry, burying my face into his mattress, "But you weren't."

My body shakes. "How can I love you so much when all you've given me over the past couple weeks is heart shattering pain? Did I do something wrong? You can't even look at me without disgust in your eyes. Did I say something? What the fuck did I do?"

I cry until my eyes are so swollen I can barely open them, until my chest actually hurts from my ragged breathing.

The bedroom door opens but I don't pay Mike any attention when he steps in sighing, helping me to my feet and leading me to my own room where he has a bowl of soup and a cup of water waiting for me.

"Thank you," I sign and he nods, planting himself in my desk chair. I smile at him when he gestures to my laptop and I turn on Gossip Girl. Mike doesn't say anything or complain about the show, even three hours later when I start to doze off.

"Goodnight, Mike. Thank you for the soup. And for watching Netflix with me." I type when he stands to leave, taking my empty bowl with him. He just nods, closing the door behind him.

What the fuck am I gonna do?

And is it even worth doing?