𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒐𝒓𝒌 {𝑯.𝑺}

Chapter Thirty Two | Inevitable Reconcilations

"He's got a week left at most—if he's lucky."

I always feared those words.

They haunted me in my dreams for years, something that drove me to take care of Aiden more than I ever would have taken care of myself. Despite trying to negotiate with myself all of this time, I knew that there was nothing I could ever do that would save Aiden.

"Mia," Dr. Baylor sighed, resting an arm on my shoulder. He smiled gently, face seemingly peaceful despite the news that he was telling me. "After all these years, I have yet to talk to your parents about Aiden. They're never here. They never seem to care enough aside from paying the medical bills." His grip tightened, sincerity shining in his eyes. "But you're always here. I've literally watched you grow up in the waiting room. You've been fighting this battle with Aiden for twelve years. And you've been his constant—his support system. You couldn't have done anything different, to be honest. I wish I had a sister as great as you. So don't blame yourself for this. It's on him now."

I wish that I could feel some sort of relief from him words. Because they were sweet enough to put any grieving person at ease. But I didn't feel relief at all.

It was all so sudden. One minute, I was laughing in my room with Alice and the next, I heard Aiden yelling my name.

Now it was hours later and after another health scare, he was hooked up to machines in a hospital room; unconscious as his doctor gave me the final verdict.

The odds didn't seem to be in Aiden's favor this time.

I feared that it would all go down like this. Nothing about Aiden's life was subtle—his health scares were always abrupt and fatal.

And now, the universe had decided to put a ticking time bomb on his life span.

Squeezing my shoulder one more time, Dr. Baylor informed me that he would be calling my parents, before giving me space.

I focused on Alice, who was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs with a blotchy face and teary eyes. She couldn't stop crying. Her body was wracking with heartbreaking sobs, as if she was the sister to Aiden and not me. Everyone surrounding us was giving her looks of sympathy; the air reeked of despair.

There was a pain in my chest, a considerable amount of pain that any sister would feel if she found out that her twin was dying. But my brain wasn't able to register my feelings. A few lonely streaks of tears made their way down my cheeks, but they were pitiful compared to the romantic sobs that Alice was emitting.

My pain seemed so minimal compared to hers, as if I was crying over spilled milk rather than the loss of a family member.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling my shoulders slump in surprise as color drained from my face.

Was this how Aiden felt when I died?

It was still weird to think about the fact that I had already died and come back to life. It was hard to wrap my brain around the fact that I was in Aiden's position a few months ago.

I didn't know how long I sat there. Minutes? Hours? Days?

Time seemed too complex for my brain in that moment. All I knew was that once the nurse informed me about Aiden's consciousness, I shot up to my feet, making my way to his room before she could say another word.