“The bathroom in here is one of my favorite parts of the house,” he confesses.
“Really? If I lived here, I would spend my days downstairs in front of the fireplace,” I inform him without thinking.
He smiles and mutters, “But you haven’t seen the tub.”
When the door of the bathroom opens, I’m awestruck. The large tub sits high in the room, with stairs leading to it, overlooking a window with a view of the sound. Off to the side is a glass-enclosed shower, so if you wanted to watch your partner take a bath while you showered, you could.
“Okay, I would spend my time between the two.” I smile, walking up the three steps, and then stepping down into the tub and leaning back.
“Figured you’d like that.” He grins leaning against the door jam and I smile back, while something inside me coils deep, causing pain. I will never have this. There will never be a time when I would be taking a bath and Austin would come in to shower, or when I would ever be able to laze on the couch downstairs by the fire, watching the ocean, waiting for him to get home. This isn’t my life, and I know deep down it will be someone else’s. Austin had grown up while I was gone, matured, became an even better man, and there would be someone who’d fight to be with him, someone he would fight to be with.
“This is so beautiful. You’ve done an amazing job,” I say, the words choking out of me. I need to be strong. He’s my friend, and when the time comes for him to fall in love, I will try my hardest to show the same care he’s shown me the last few days. “I should probably get home to Mom. I really hate leaving her for too long,” I tell him as I duck my head, step out of the tub, and down the three steps until I’m standing almost in front of him.
“Are you okay?” His head tilts to the side like he’s studying me, his eyes raking over my features like they will give him some unknown answer.
“Yeah, just a lot on my mind.” I smile, and his eyes drop to my mouth and a frown forms on his.
“Anything I can help with?”
“I don’t know,” I reply stupidly.
“Talk to me.” He reaches forward and his hand wraps around mine.
“Seeing the office at Larry’s just made me feel kind of guilty. It feels wrong to be planning a future, when I know my mom’s is coming to an end,” I tell him a half-truth. Seeing his future in front of me is killing me.
“You’re gonna live, baby. I know it’s hard to accept right now, but when your mom’s gone, you’re still going to be here, so if you have a plan in place starting now, it will make it easier when the time comes.”
I know he’s right, but standing here in his future life, I wish ours were intertwined.
Chapter 7
Lea
Three weeks. Three weeks is all it took for everything to change for my mom, who had been so strong, to take a turn for the worse. And even though I made myself believe I was ready to face the loss of her head-on, nothing could have prepared me for it happening in front of me.
“Hey.”
I look at Rhonda and feel a fresh wave of tears spring to my eyes. I would have been lost without her, Ben, and Austin. “Hi,” I say softly then feel her arm slide around my back and her head lean on my shoulder.
“She’s comfortable,” she mutters solemnly.
“Yeah,” I agree; she looks like she’s resting peacefully.
Three weeks ago, I came home from my day out with Austin and told her everything. We talked about Larry’s office, how it was perfect, and that I had put in an offer for it. I told her about Austin’s house, how much work he had done, and how beautiful it was. We talked about my dad, and I knew we had both come to terms with his loss. We talked about a lot over the last three weeks, but every day, I noticed her energy depleting, which would cause her to spend more and more time in bed, until two days ago, when I went into her room to wake her up for lunch and she wouldn’t budge.
I tried everything within my power to get her to wake up and got no response. I wanted so badly to call an ambulance, but knew the care plan Mom and Rhonda set up specified to call Rhonda, so I did. I don’t even know what I said in that moment. I don’t even know if anything I said made sense, but Rhonda must have understood, because she showed up soon after, while I was still trying to wake her. I had no idea how quickly things could change, how fast things could go downhill.
“I’m so sorry,” Rhonda says, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Me, too.” I silently cry while watching as one of the nurses place a fresh codeine patch on Mom’s upper chest then tucks her blankets back around her.