7: Amelia’s Worsening
Situation.
Finally after a while, the doctor stepped out of the operating room, his face worried and his expression dark. This sent a chill through me.
I gripped Seth‘ s arm, unable to steady myself as my legs threatened to give way. Dad stepped forward, his voice low but desperate.
“Doctor, how is she? How’s my wife?”
The doctor sighed, his gaze filled with the kind of pity that made my stomach churn.
“She’s stable, but…” He paused, the hesitation in his words suffocating.
“She’s suffered a severe brain injury. She’s in a coma now, and we can’t say when or if she‘ Il regain consciousness.”
“No…” My whisper was barely audible, fear gripped my head.
The doctor continued, his tone cautious
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but firm. “I must also inform you that if she doesn‘ t wake up soon, there’s a risk. of her condition progressing to brain. death. We’ll do our best, but… the situation is critical.”
I gasped, my knees buckling, and Seth caught me just as I felt the room spin. Beside me, Dad’s face contorted in anguish.
“We can’t lose her,” Dad murmured, his voice cracking. “Do whatever it takes. Just… just save her.”
The doctor gave a solemn nod before. walking away, leaving us to grapple with the weight of his words.
I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving with silent sobs. Mom… my mom, who had always been there for me, who had loved unconditionally even Ash, the man who had caused her so much pain.
Memories of her soft voice, her radiant smile flooded my mind. I couldn’t lose
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her. Not like this.
With weak knees, I turned to the operating room doors, the bitterness I’d tried to suppress bubbled to the surface. This wasn’t just an accident. It was Ash’s doing.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought back tears.
“Are you okay, Astrid?” Seth asked softly, his hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head. “No. I’m not. And I won’t be until he‘ s out of our lives for
good.
Seth nodded, his jaw tight with suppressed anger. He didn’t need to ask who I meant.
I slowly moved inside the room where
Mom was now resting.
I reached Mom’s side, her face pale and still against the stark white of the hospital bed. The machines beeped steadily, they had her connected to them, she looked so
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pitiful and weak.
I leaned forward, wrapping my arms. around her, careful not to disturb the tubes that were connected to her. My cheek rested against her shoulder, the faint scent. of her favorite lavender perfume still clinging to her hospital gown. It was comforting, and yet, it shattered me even
more.
Tears spilled freely down my face, soaking into the fabric of her blanket. “You
didn’t deserve this. None of this.”
Staring at her face with tears in my eyes a flood of memories washed over me, driving me down memory lane.
The first time I met Ash.
It was an ordinary day, years ago. Mom had just dropped Seth off at his college, and I was rushing to get to mine when Ash appeared out of nowhere, nearly colliding with her car. The accident wasn’t severe, but it left her with a few scratches and me
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seething.
I remembered storming out of the car, ready to give the reckless man a piece of my mind. But when I saw him tall, disheveled, with an air of charm that irritated and intrigued me all at once, I froze.
Seth introduced him as his best friend, and despite my initial anger, Ash came over to apologize and even helped tend to Mom’s injuries.
That was the beginning. The start of something I thought was love.
He charmed his way into our lives, visiting every day under the guise of checking on Mom. But his real attention was on me. I knew it then, and I fell for it. For him.
Mom adored him from the start. She saw him as the son she never had, and when Dad and Seth voiced their doubts about our relationship, Mom stood by me.
“Give him a chance,” she‘ d said, her
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eyes soft with conviction. “He’s a good man, Astrid. You ll see.”
I believed her. I believed in him.
But now… now I could see how wrong we
both were.
My heart broke all over again. She had loved Ash so much, defended him, trusted him. And for what? For him to mock that love, to use her as a delivery service for flowers meant for another woman?
The thought burned, and my chest tightened with a mixture of grief and fury.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, silently vowing to never let his actions hurt us again.
“I need you to come back,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Please,
Mom. I don’t know if I can do this
without you.”
