Twice In A Lifetime | Book 2 (Completed)

19. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

Chapter 19: DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

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Jensen's POV:

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The scent of decay hung in the air.

The hospital room was eerily familiar, those similar dark curtains, those same plain white walls, the window facing east, the bathroom door on the left, the beeping of machines and the smell of disinfectants heavy and pungent.

I walked in slowly, unsure and cautious, the bed was half-hidden behind the curtains and I lifted my hand to part them, hoping to see my dad behind it, laying on the bed like he used to.

But instead, I saw her.

Alex smiled up at me even though it was taking all her strength, but she tried to mask the pain. She was skin and bones, so fragile her skin pale as a sheet, almost delicately translucent.

It was a sucker punch to the gut, my knees wobbled and I gasped in a breath, trying not to lose my mind. My brain was repeating 'No' over and over again as if my denial could somehow change what I was seeing.

She was attached to so many machines that beeped and flickered, helped her survive, pumping breath into her lungs and medication into her veins while her body was rejecting it. Life itself was being sucked out of her right before my eyes and I could do nothing but watch.

It's the most helpless, paralyzing feeling ever... One that makes you realise how little power you have over things that truly matter.

I sat with her, did most of the talking and she was too exhausted to even keep up. She hardly greeted me, she didn't even speak... she couldn't. I saw the moment her features twisted into pain as she tried to conceal it, but soon she was writhing and crying for help.

And I scrambled, yelling for the doctor, holding her hand, trying to help her through it to no avail.

I sat on the waiting chair outside, hearing her scream and cry out as doctors and nurses poured in and out of her room. They increased the morphine and then the painful sounds became quite like they were never there.

Her life was those four walls and morphine until she stopped breathing.

And I couldn't bear it.

I sucked in a breath as my eyes flew open and I was met with the dull white ceiling of the unfamiliar hotel room. My heart was beating a mile a minute, my breath came in quick pants while my chest heaved, eyes still held onto the memory of what I just saw, while my mind wanted to forget it.

Relief washed over me like a wave of tsunami. I was thankful it was just a dream. My skin was damp with a sheen of perspiration and my eyes a bit moist with the beginnings of tears.

Did I cry? In my dream?

The last time I cried was years ago, it was after my father's death... but I didn't cry during the funeral, my mom and sister were sobbing and my heart broke every time I even looked at them, or my father's coffin, but I didn't cry.

I stayed strong. I had to.

I was plagued with responsibilities and I had to take care of them.

It was the one major thing my dad told me, "take care of your mom and Jenny" He had said to me, and then he apologized for not being there and told me he was proud of me.

His words stayed with me, long after he was gone, giving me strength for what I was about to take on.

It was months later when I was sitting on my living room couch, watching an NFL game on the screen when the final touchdown happened and the crowd roared and cheered and I jumped up with excitement and turned to my left yelling, "See, I told you they can turn it around dad-!" and I abruptly stopped, understanding that I was talking to thin air, my dad wasn't sitting there, he was no longer a part of this world and he was never coming back...