Cuts and Bruises

Chapter Seventeen

"Oh, Lily," My mother practically sighs out of exhaustion, the bags under her eyes darker and deeper-set than I'd ever seen before. She gets up from the armchair in the corner of the room and throws her small arms around me. "I'm so glad you're here."

I hug her back and try to push away the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. "I can only stay for a few days," I warn her immediately. "But I'll be back in a week and a half for break."

She hugs me tighter, almost as if she didn't want to let go or else I'd disappear. From the embrace of my mother, I glance over at the hospital bed to see a pale, weak looking Danny sleeping soundly, almost as if he hadn't slept or eaten in days. My heart immediately cracked at the sight.

"How have you been, mom?" I ask anxiously when she finally lets go of me. "How have you been handling things here alone?"

It's one of the first questions I ask every time I see her after being away at school. No matter what, there was always going to be guilt crawling through my body when I considered the fact that the alternative route was to go to school closer to home and be here for her and Danny.

"Things have been alright," She sighs, but then her gaze shifts behind me, perhaps like she's seeing Vincent there for the first time. She straightens up and attempts a smile that I immediately recognized as forced. "Hello, there. You must be the young boy who brought my daughter home."

Vincent steps up and takes her hand in hers to shake it, his other hand covering the outside of her hand, almost like he wanted to keep it warm.

"Yes ma'am. My name is Vincent, it's nice to finally meet you," He introduces himself maturely and calmly, and for some reason, I immediately felt my stomach become warmer.

"Likewise," Her smile becomes more genuine as she looks into his eyes. "Thank you for driving Lily home. That was very kind of you."

Without missing a beat, Vincent says, "Of course. I'm happy to help."

The sound of a phone vibrating cuts my mom off from saying whatever she had opened her mouth to exhale, and she turns to dig into her purse to stop the source. She looks at us apologetically and excuses us while she takes the phone call outside of the hospital room.

I take the moment of silence to turn to my little brother and walk to his bedside. You could tell he was sick even if he wasn't in a hospital bed. He had been more energetic, more full of life these past few months; but now, he resembled his weak form of last year.

"So this is the famous Danny," Vincent says slowly, as if he's unsure how I'm going to react to him being here for this intimate moment.

My eyes swell with tears that I force not to fall onto my cheeks as I nod. "This is him," My voice comes out in a cracked whisper, and a stray tear falls down my cheek. "He doesn't deserve this."

I hear Vincent shuffle toward me before wrapping an arm around my waist to draw me closer. "No, he doesn't. But he's a hell of a fighter."

I rest my head in Vincent's chest for just a moment, long enough to take a deep shaky breath and attempt to calm down, when I hear the door open again. I look up at my mom with Vincent's arm still around me and I can tell by her flustered appearance that she just got called into work.

"I've told them what's going on, but the manager keeps insisting I go in," She explains in a huff. "I'm scared I might lose-"

To spare Vincent from listening to my mom contemplate losing her job, I interrupt her and say, "It's okay, mom. We'll stay here."

There's still a bit of skepticism in her eyes when they land on me, but the moment they flutter to Danny laying in the hospital bed, the same realization hits her: we need the money. So she lets out a deflated breath and nods, her worry lines already crinkling at the base of her mouth and her forehead.