“Colton?” her voice cracks, confusion still splintering through.
“Yeah. Yeah it’s me.” It’s me. I have to tell her who I am. I want to scream. To throw up. To wake up from this shitty ass nightmare and find out everything’s okay.
“Colton…” she says again, this time with recognition. The nurse comes into the room again, fills a syringe and shoots more pain medicine into her.
One, two, three.
Her eyes flutter.
Four, five, six.
She’s asleep again.
I fall into the chair.
I’ve already lost her.
~CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR~
Cheyenne
Colt’s said a few words, but nothing major. I’ve held him and given him space. Maggie’s brought food we haven’t touched. The only time we leave is to go to the restroom.
It’s four hours later when her eyes finally open again. How many hours have we been here? I hold my breath. I think my heart stops too.
Please let her be okay. Let her know who he is. Let him be able to say goodbye.
“I…wish…you…didn’t…have…to…look…so…sad…” she says, weakly smiling.
I feel the tension leak out of Colt’s body.
“Mom. Hey. How do you feel?”
“Happy to see you,” she replies.
I know I shouldn’t. That I should be strong, but I can’t fight the tears from falling down my face. Can’t hold them back or reel them in.
And it’s not all from sadness. I see the way she looks at him and it’s beautiful. She loves him the way a mother should love their child. Thoroughly. Completely. To her, he’s the most important person in the world and I’m so very happy they have that.
“Always trying to get on my good side,” Colt tries to tease. I love him more for it.
She reaches for his hand. I didn’t realize they’d let go. He gives it to her and she squeezes.
“Let me talk to Cheyenne.” Her voice is so soft, I can hardly make out her words. Colt looks like he’s ready to panic. His eyes wide as he looks from her to me.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’ll just be a minute.”
I cry harder. I need to stop, but I can’t make myself do it. I wipe my eyes as Colt stands up. He kisses her cheek. Stands and drops his forehead against mine.
No words are needed. We just lean into each other. “We’ll be okay,” I whisper.
He nods.
“I love you.”
“You too.” And then he’s gone. I take his chair and have to lean in close so I can hear her.
“You’re beautiful together.” Her chin trembles, which makes me cry again.
“I love him. He’s…”
“Frustrating.”
I smile. “Yes.”
“But he’s wonderful too.” Her voice sounds so proud in that moment. You wouldn’t know she was sick. She’s just a mom proud of her son.
“You guys think you fooled me in the beginning,” she rasps. “You were only fooling yourself.”
I nod because she’s right. I’m not surprised she knows. I’m honored she sees it’s real now.
“Take care of him.”
The words snap me like a twig. “I will.” I can hardly get out between my sobs. I squeeze her hand and rest my cheek on it. “I will, I will, I will.”
“Take care of you too. And let him. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s good at taking care of people.”
“He is.” I say this with as much conviction as she spoke with. “He takes good care of me.”
“You have to be able to take care of yourself too. Both you and Colton. It’s okay to lean, but you both need to know how strong you are too.”
“I—”
“Your mom loved you,” Bev cuts me off. I gasp. My tears are running down onto her hand and I feel guilty, but can’t make them stop.
“She loved you. It would be impossible not to. She might not always have known how to show it. She might not have always done the right thing, but she loved you. She loved you,” she says again.
“Thank you.” I say it over and over. Until my throat is raw. Until she knows how much those words mean to me because somehow they have to be real if she says it.
“He loves you,” she adds. “And I love you. You’re everything I could have hoped for, for him.”
I can’t stop myself. I stand up and lean down to rest my head on her chest. The tears don’t stop. She shushes me. Runs a hand through my hair. It’s the same thing Colt does and I wonder how many bruised knees and bad days she soothed for him this way.
Finally, when the tears are gone, I sit up. “Thank you. I love you too.”
A quick nod is my reply. “I need Colton.” Her voice is laced with pain. Broken and bleeding with it. “I need my boy.”
~CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE~
Colt
My feet are weighed down, but I somehow manage to make them move. Chey’s in the hallway as I close Mom’s bedroom door.
I don’t know if it’s okay or if it’s right or if it makes me the weakest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, but I crawl into bed with her, hoping and praying I don’t hurt her. All I know is I need her.
I wrap my arm around her. Curl up on my side. I feel small…like a kid. How I used to get into bed with her when I’d have a nightmare or the neighbors would scream so loud they scared me.
“My sweet, sweet, boy,” She says. I don’t know how she managed to make her voice sound clear, stronger. Probably for me. Because she knows I need it.
“Live your life,” she finally says. I have to look up to see her because I don’t know what she means.
She sighs. Bites her chapped lip. “You can do anything you want, Colton. That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to know. You’re better than me. Better than your father. You can have anything. Be anything. Do anything…but live your life. If you decide college isn’t what you want, don’t do it because of me. I want you to find whatever you can that makes you happy and you hold it. You grab onto it with all your might. If I ever pushed you into anything it’s because I wanted you to know you’re better than selling drugs, going to jail. Nickle and diming it like I’ve had to do.”
Selling drugs. Going to jail.
Does that sound familiar? The things I hated my father for.
Her eyes hold mine intensely. “Just be good…be happy. That’s all I want for you. And for you to know how one-of-a-kind you are. You are strong, loyal, caring. You make that girl out there smile like she has the world in the palm of her hand.” She pauses, breathing hard from the effort of so much talking. Then she whispers, “You gave me the world.”
I’m begging myself to say something, but I can’t find the words. They’re locked inside me. Each time they try and slip through, a door closes on them, blocking them out.
“You gave me the world,” she says again. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever done that means something.”
“You made me who I am,” is what I manage to say. I hope it’s enough. Hope it’s right. When I look at her, her face is wet. Tears giving moisture to her lips that are turned up in a smile.