𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮; oscar piastri ✔

PART THIRTY TWO

So who wants a DT (dedication to) on the next fic? Idk when I'll publish it because work and studies are absolutely annihilating me but I'll give a hint: enemies to lovers, masc! oc, and of course, oscar piastri <3

Word count; 2,277

Addison

— October 21st, 2023. Bristol, England.

Ma was sick. 

She had been sick for years, though it had become a routine, as such. There were medicines and clinic visits, herbal remedies and outdoor retreats, all of which never accumulated to much, but it never put her down. Still, she'd attend the club for lunches with her friends, she'd travel with Da for work visits, she'd plan garden parties. Sometimes, she'd fall over, or faint, or forget where she was for a mere second, but she'd never overlook the people around her - it was the one thing that kept her going, it seemed.

Until now.

She had been bed-bound for weeks before Da called me at the golf club in Texas; unable to move without help, to wake up without an expression of agitation, knowing she was in the wrong place, and forever would be. He didn't mention anything more, just that she was slipping away, and it was time to come home. Nothing else.

I didn't realise I still had a key to the house until I approached the front door, and I pulled it out of my purse on instinct, catching myself off guard; so many routines I had built with Oscar, overshadowed by my childhood, in a mere few seconds. Almost surprised that the locks hadn't been changed, I pushed through the threshold, welcomed by darkness and seclusion; with Sarah away at university, and Ma too unwell to revive it, downstairs was plagued by dust and gloom, no-one in sight. I dumped my bag by the front door, kicking off my shoes - again, an old habit yet to be overcome. I headed upstairs.

Da was sat on a chair next to the bed, reading through a book, glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Beside him, Ma lay beneath piles of sheets and pillows, her skin pale, almost lifeless, and my stomach curled at the sight; nerves had harrowed every part of me on the journey home - if it can even be called that anymore - my thoughts bashing together, wondering what it would be like to see them again, both of them, in circumstances I could never predict. I nearly cried then and there.

Da's head turned, hearing the floorboards creak under my feet, but before he could even spare any sort of acknowledgement, he was beat to it.

"Nick..." Ma said softly, her lips curling.

Da regarded her, eyes beset by bewilderment. I took another step forward.

"My angel..." She reached out into the open air between us, arm trembling.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears welling in my eyelids, "Ma..."

"My baby boy..." She croaked.

I couldn't help but scoff, glancing at the ceiling in hope it would prevent my own sobs. Da's footsteps retreated out of the room, though I didn't even spare a glance at him, too overwhelmed by the fact she thought I was Nick.

"Come here..." Her arm began to shake.

I took her hand, soothening her forearm as I sat in the chair Da had left behind.

"After all this time..."

"Hey Ma..." I sniffed, my tears dropping onto the carpet.

"You're so grown now..." She observed, almost picking out my features with her pupils. "Look at you..."

"Ma..." I sobbed, wanting to tell her it wasn't Nick and it never could be, but I couldn't find the courage to.

She couldn't remember me.