Page 7 of Sinful Mates

“It’s alright, Momma. I’m right here, I’m right here,” I tell her. After a few seconds, it stops and so does her breathing. Her chest no longer rises and falls. The room falls silent, the only noise is my own heavy breathing. I lift my head from hers, Mom’s skin is dull and lifeless, and her hand loses its warmth. I know she’s gone. The doctor walks over and places a stethoscope on her chest and listens before nodding, confirming her heart is no longer beating and making a note of the time.

I stare at my mother’s dead body lying on the gurney - she’s gone. I’ll never hear her voice again, never hold her again. I can’t handle it anymore. Getting up, I pull the blanket up, tucking her in as if she’s asleep and I’m saying good night instead of goodbye. I lean down and kiss her head. My lips quiver and my eyes burn with tears that want to fall. Tears I've lost the will to fight.

I just stare down at her. Now what? Do I just leave and never come back? Turning around, I walk out in a daze, almost robotic. When I step into the blue corridor, Sally tries to grab my hand, but I pull away from her touch. I don’t want to be touched. I know I’ll break. I’m nearly to the end of the corridor when Tobias steps into my view. I don’t know what he sees on my face, but he reaches for me. I quickly step out of his reach. What is it with everyone and trying to touch me? I won’t break. None of these people will see me break. Tears are a weakness. I’m not weak. My mother didn’t raise a weakling.

I keep walking down the long hall, I can hear people talking to me, I can hear Sally calling after me, but I just ignore them and keep on walking. I walk out of the hospital doors. My phone vibrates in my bag that is over my shoulder. I ignore it.

I drag myself to the park across the road.

I collapse on the park bench. The darkness surprises me but I welcome its ability to hide me from the world. The only noise I hear is the beating of my own heart, which I’m sure is broken beyond repair.

I’m completely numb, and I pray I stay that way. I don’t want to know what this pain will feel like. The wind whips through my hair, fat drops of rain hit my skin as a sheet of rain passes over me. I can’t feel coldness, I can’t feel the sting of the wind or the bite of the rain on my skin. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what my next move is. There is no plan. I realize I was in denial this entire time because I never planned to this point. I knew this time would come but I don’t think I believed she would ever actually be gone.

So instead, I let the rain drench me where I sit. I don't care if I get sick. I don't care what happens to me. I somehow made myself believe she would pull through, even though my mind knew she wasn’t coming back.

At some point I drudge back to my car. Tom has left the parking garage door up slightly. He must have realized I wasn’t in my car. I walk up to my car and pop the trunk, grabbing a bottle. I pop the cap and gulp the vodka down. I just want to sleep and forget about this day, or maybe wake up to find this is all a nightmare, one I’m just having trouble waking from. Only I know it isn’t, it hurts too much, and you don’t feel pain in dreams.

I jerk my car door open and plop down, bringing my bottle with me. I twist around in my seat, grab my duvet off the back seat and wrap it around myself, seeking comfort in its warmth. My teeth chatter but I can’t be bothered taking my wet clothes off. Right now it’s too much effort. After a while and a few more mouthfuls of my bottle of jet fuel, I slip into the darkness of sleep huddled into my little ball of grief.

Chapter Four

The next morning, I wake in my cramped car, my neck twisted in an awkward position against the center console. Rotating my neck and stretching the sore muscles, I rub the aching spot before sitting up to the sound of monotonous tapping on my driver’s side window. Squinting I can just make out Tom standing outside with a coffee in hand and concern etched on his face.

Jumping up quickly I grab my phone. Shit, I slept through my alarm. Tom motions his hand to the hood where he balances my coffee. “I will meet you at the ramp, kiddo.”

My head pounds, reminding me that drinking on an empty stomach was a seriously bad idea.

I nod to Tom, hiding my wince as I do. Getting up, I hobble to the trunk and rummage through, trying to find something decent to wear. I stink heavily of vodka. I just want to sleep last night off and down god knows how much till I pass out completely.

Why did I drink so much, anyway? I know better. The memories of my mother hit me, threatening to make me fall to my knees. Instead, I shove them aside, refusing to think of the shitstorm that has become my life. Finding a passable blouse, I smooth it out the best I can and toss my blazer over the top. I rip the hairbrush through my tangled hair, relishing the pain. Anything that keeps my mind off yesterday, I welcome. I stuff my foot into my still damp shoe while I hop on one foot and try to walk to the hood of my car at the same time.

I grab the coffee and try jogging down the ramp toward Tom, who’s waiting patiently for me next to the entrance doors. Unfortunately, my actions last night make jogging near impossible. I settle for a quick power walk instead. A quick glance at my phone informs me I have a scant ten minutes before my bosses will arrive.

“Rough night, darl? That's the first time I've ever seen you sleep in.” Tom's kindness and warmth threatens to break me.

“Yeah, it was pretty rough, thanks for waking me,” I mumble, sipping my coffee and avoiding those sweet eyes. Tom escorts me to the elevator before going about his own duties. Once the doors ping open, I power hobble to the bathroom and do a quick rush job of my makeup. My face is puffy, and I look like shit. No, I look hungover with my bloodshot eyes and pale complexion. A slow ache makes its way up to my eyes, sitting directly at my temple. I knew the aftermath of drinking that much would have consequences, but I was prepared.

Once finished, I quickly go to my bag and retrieve three ibuprofen and three Nurofen. I down them with a glass of water. Mom’s secret remedy for hangovers besides greasy food. I smile at the memory before my smile crumples into a frown. I’ll never see her smile again, let alone hear her endless advice, even silly advice like how to avoid a morning hangover. I’m shoved out of my sadness by the ping of the elevator doors.

Tobias and Theo step out. Their normal business persona shatters as their eyes widen upon seeing me. I still haven’t made the morning coffee. I apologize realizing my mistake before racing to the kitchenette and making the coffee. Theo pops his head into the small kitchen door, studying me as if I’m a wounded animal.

“Sorry I was a bit rushed for time this morning. I’m making them now,” I sputter, concentrating on the task at hand. When I don’t hear a response, I turn to see if he’s still there.

He is but now shadowed by Tobias. I gulp, my mouth suddenly feels like a desert. Tobias's concerned eyes spark a memory. He'd been at the hospital, he'd tried to reach for me. I was rude and ignored him.

Can't I catch a break? Seriously, I don't feel like being scolded. Ignoring them, I finish making the coffees before spinning around and handing a mug to each. I’m late but not so much that our entire day has to be ruined. Theo stares at the offered cup before taking it while Tobias’s face is unreadable. Pity maybe? I’m sure.

“You don’t have to be here. You can go home if you like.” Tobias's voice is unusually gentle. I sigh, relieved I don’t have to come up with some excuse as to why I ignored him and ran from him last night. I wonder why he was at the hospital, anyway.

“Why would I do that?” I question. Don’t they want me here? Have I ruined their schedule after all with my lateness?

“We don’t expect you to work the day after your mother passes. If you need time off, we understand. We can manage on our own, Imogen.” Tobias continues with his soft manner. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wants to hug me the way he keeps staring.

Theo sniffs the air before cocking his head to the side, studying me from head to toe. I’m well aware I smell like I’ve been dipped in vodka. Walking past them, I grab my perfume from my handbag and spray myself, completely ignoring them. Like seriously where will I go? Hang out in the garage all day? To the park again? Maybe the storage shed? Yeah, having time off is the last thing I need.

Theo places his coffee mug on the edge of my desk. “Drink this, I will make another.”

I try to get up and stop him, seeing as it technically is my job to be the coffee bitch, but one look from Tobias makes me shrink back down in my seat. Tobias sits on the edge of my desk. He reaches to grab my hand, but I pull away. Hurt shines in his eyes but he quickly masks it. Why would he feel hurt? His reaction seems a little out of place, considering I’m his secretary, not his friend. I must have imagined it.