Mom’sin the hospital bed, breathing shallow and irregular, each inhale sounding like work.
Her eyes are closed, face drawn in a way that makes her look decades older than she is.
I take the chair beside her bed and reach for her hand. It’s cool and fragile, bones sharp under papery skin.
“Mom? It’s Marnie. I’m here.”
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first. Then they find my face and something clears.
“Marnie.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” I squeeze her hand gently. “I’m right here.”
“Good.” A weak smile. “Didn’t want to... without you.”
The words crack something in my chest.
“Don’t talk like that. You’re okay. You’re?—”
“I’m dying, baby. We both know it. No point... pretending.”
I press my lips together, trying not to cry. Not yet. She needs me to be strong right now.
“The hockey player,” she says after a moment. “Roman. He’s... good?”
“Yeah, Mom. He’s really good.”
“Good.” Her eyes drift closed, then open again with effort. “I’m proud of you. So proud. You know that?”
“I know.”
“Your father... would be too.” A tear slides down her cheek. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too, Mom.” My voice breaks. “So, so much.”
She squeezes my hand—barely any pressure, but I feel it.
“Don’t be alone. Promise me. Don’t push people away because you’re scared.”
“I won’t.”
“Liar.” But she’s smiling slightly. “You’re just like me. Stubborn. Independent. Scared of needing people.” Her breathing gets more labored. “But Roman... he’s good. Let him stay.”
“I will. I promise.”
“That’s my girl.” Her eyes close again. “So tired...”
“Rest, Mom. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She drifts off, and I sit there holding her hand and counting her breaths like I have for months.
Bargaining for just one more. Just one more. Just one more.
Roman arrives twenty minutes later,still in practice clothes, hair damp.
He takes one look at me and understands. Pulls up the otherchair and sits beside me, doesn’t ask stupid questions or offer empty platitudes.
Just sits there, solid and present, his hand finding mine.
