I chew on my bottom lip, shifting on my feet as I stare at the silver door handle to Mom’s hospital room. I feel like I’ve been frozen in this same spot, staring, motionless for a lifetime.

It’s not a big deal, right? People do this all the time. They introduce their boyfriends or girlfriends to their parents. Not a big deal. Wrong. It’s a big deal…to me.

Hudson stands next to me, patiently waiting for me to make a move. It’s like he senses the gravity of the situation. My eyes soften as I watch him out of my peripheral vision, being the support I need without saying a word.

I have no idea what Hudson is…what we are. Mom has only ever met one guy I was dating before, and it happened merely by coincidence. I have just never met the right guy. The one who deemed himself worthy of meeting my parents. Psh, who am I kidding? I didn’t care about my dad’s opinion. I never did. It was my mom’s approval I sought.

Bringing him to meet my mom is a big deal. Because she’s dying. This is her wish, and I’m not sure if the butterflies in my stomach stem from excitement or terror.

Lifting my hand, I reach for the handle, and my stomach lurches. Definitely the latter.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he reassures me, running the pad of his thumb down my neck.

Is it? Each time I see her I wonder if it will be the last. I wonder if I’ll get to see the look on her face when she sees me again. Because her face always lights up like it’s Christmas morning when I walk in her room. It makes me feel a little guilty because if she’s that happy to see me, it means I haven’t been here for her.

I nod my head once, not because I agree, but so he knows I heard him.

I push down on the handle and open the door, the smell of sanitizer assaulting my nose.

We step inside, moving further into the room. The pale blue curtain is pulled across her room, hiding her from view. I step up to the curtain, peeking around it to make sure she’s awake before making our presence known.

My eyes connect with her bed…with her empty bed, and my chest tightens, my knees going weak, threatening to give out.

I rush around the curtain and throw open the door to the bathroom in her room. I flip on the overhead light in the bathroom, and it flickers several times before coming to life.

“Jade?” I hear Hudson say, but I ignore him, not able to speak when I feel like I’m on the verge of being destroyed.

She’s not here. Her toothbrush is on the small counter next to the sink, and her shampoo and conditioner are visible in the shower, but she isn’t here.

Tears pool in my eyes, clouding my vision. She’s gone. She’s gone and they didn’t tell me. Why didn’t they call me?

I begin hyperventilating, my chest heaving faster than I can inhale my next breath.

I stumble out of the bathroom, walking across her room not able to bare the sight of the space that has been hers for so long.

Hudson’s arms wrap around my midsection before I can make it past the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asks with a tenderness I can’t be grateful for since all I feel is loss.

The room…it’s spinning, everything off kilter. The floor comes out from under my feet, but I’m still standing, being held upright by Hudson.

“Jade?”

I swear I hear the sound of her voice. I blink my eyes several times before my vision clears.

“Jade?” Her voice meets my ears, and my hand flies to my mouth.

Thank fucking God.

I choke out an exhale, ensuring I keep my tears at bay.

I remove Hudson’s arms from around my waist, and I rush to my mom sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse behind her. My arms wrap around her neck, holding on tight and breathing her in as the world comes back into focus. “Is everything all right?” she whispers against the side of my head.

“Yeah,” I strain.

She pats me on the back as the nurse says, “Let me help her into bed, and then I’ll leave you alone to visit.”

I unlatch myself from her, stepping out of the nurse’s way. I lean against the nearest wall, taking several deep breaths, telling myself she’s fine, that everything is okay…for now.

Hudson slowly moves toward me like he’s afraid I might break if he moves too fast. His arms glide across my waist, enclosing me in his embrace. He holds me, letting me take his strength while he takes my fears, protecting me while he can. He doesn’t say a word, and I appreciate the time he’s giving me to let my mind and heart settle down, allowing me to comprehend that she’s still here.

I let out a deep breath, and Hudson loosens his hold on me, stepping back an inch to see my face. I nod my head in reassurance to his unanswered question. Am I okay? As much as I can be, and I’m glad I don’t have to tell him that. I’m glad my simple nod suffices.

He drops his hold on me as the nurse vacates the room, leaving the three of us alone.

“Jade, are you still there?” Mom asks, sounding tired.

I clear my throat, heading in her direction, grasping Hudson’s hand as I go. “Yeah, I’m here. We’re here,” I correct.

I push the curtain away, revealing my frail mother, lying in bed with an expression of pure love and adoration on her face. She holds out her arm, wiggling her fingers. I step closer to her bed and grab hold of her hand, wanting to squeeze her but too afraid I’ll break her. I settle for holding her hand in mine, feeling her pulse beneath my fingertips and letting it comfort me.

I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, noticing the weight loss in her face. She used to have full cheeks. The kind that you could pinch. Now her face is sunken in, almost skeletal in appearance.

“This is him?” she whispers to me, acting as if he can’t hear her even though he’s standing right next to me.

I nod my head yes.

Hudson drapes his hand over hers. All of us linked together. Me on the bottom, Mom sandwiched in the middle, and Hudson on top holding us all together. “I’m Hudson. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hart.”

She beams up at him. “Call me Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth,” he echoes.

“You’re the one who’s made my Jade so happy.”

“Mom,” I complain, rolling my eyes.

“I think I have.” Hudson glances at me, his lips curling up.

“Oh, no, honey, you have.”

I inwardly groan, feeling like she’s trying to embarrass me.

“Sit down,” Mom says to both of us, pulling her hand from between mine and Hudson’s.

There’s only one chair, so he gestures for me to take a seat while he stands over me and my mom.

“Tell me something about yourself.” Mom looks at Hudson expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Hudson grins, his eyes skating over me before he gives my mom his full attention. “I have a son, and he’s the center of my universe.”

Mom’s face lights up more than I have seen it in a long time. “I know the feeling. You don’t know true love until you have a child.” She looks at me, her eyes shining. “Everything you do is for them.”

Not everything.

I drop my gaze, staring at the floor, so I don’t pop her happy bubble with the scowl on my face. Hudson drops his hand to the back of my neck, his warm fingers skating across my skin.

Letting herself die isn’t for me. She thinks it is for some reason, but I’ve yet to understand why.

“How old is he?” Mom asks.

“Six,” he says, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I spend as much time with him as I can. I go to work pretty early so I can be there when he gets home from school.”

I bring my eyes back to Mom, catching her looking at me with a longing expression on her face. “Spend all the time you can with him. It’s more important than working your life away.” She clears her throat before she shifts her eyes to Hudson. “What do you do in your free time, honey?”

“Lately, I’ve been with you daughter.” He chuckles. “Tried to teach her to skateboard.”

“Hey,” I interject, “it’s harder than it looks. Those things are too high off the ground.”

He shakes his head.

“Do you remember when you crashed your bike?” Mom asks me as she pulls the covers over her chest.

I nod. “I was racing down a hill in our neighborhood, and I didn’t slow down enough to make the sharp turn at the bottom.”

“You came home crying your eyes out with blood running down your shin.”

I point a finger at her. “But it got me out of gym for two weeks because I couldn’t put a tennis shoe on my right foot since I had a scrape down my ankle.”

She laughs. “You could have put on a tennis shoe, but you hated gym.”

I shrug. “It’s true.”

Hudson tightens his hold on the back of my neck. “So no more skateboard lessons?”

I shake my head as I glance up at him. “Riding a bike is the extent of my outdoor activities.”

“You and Chris are more alike than I thought.” He runs his hand down my back. “He hates doing anything outside.”

I wonder if Hudson had to talk Chris into playing baseball since he dislikes the outdoors.

My lips tip up. “That means we can overrule you if you try to make us go running or something.”

He rolls his eyes as mom laughs, the sound echoing off the bare walls of the room. I bring my attention back to her as she wipes at her eyes.

“I’m leaving my daughter in good hands.” She sighs, looking at Hudson. “Promise me you’ll always be there for her.”

The smile falls off my face as reality comes crashing back down.

“I will,” he assures her.

I hate that she keeps asking for promises–from me, from Hudson. Why should we honor them when she’s killing herself?

“Let me tell you a secret.” She motions for him to come closer, so he leans in, his shoulder brushing across my chest. “Jade, here, hasn’t been happy in a long time. I’ve watched her turn away from everyone. I hated watching my baby girl slip away. It’s my fault. I know it is.”

My face pales as I listen to my mom tell Hudson she’s the reason I turned in to a bitch. It’s not true. Sure, I hardened a little more. I let everyone I was close to slip away, and I gave up my dream of art school, but I did it for her.

I didn’t do all of that because of her. It was mostly my dad’s fault and the world’s fault for throwing so much crap at me and expecting me to hold it all on my own.

If I had a Dad that stepped up, I could have had more. But for whatever reason, he thought he could treat Mom like she was nothing more than his maid, not his partner in life.

If I had left her with alone with him, I fear she wouldn’t have lived past my nineteenth birthday. He wouldn’t have been there and cared for her. Hell, they probably would have ended up on the street.

“She gave up too much for me at such a young age,” Mom continues. “But then one day, she walked in here, and she was a little lighter. I didn’t say anything because I liked getting a glimpse of my daughter. The person she is under that hard shell. The last two times I saw her, I knew.” Her gaze meets mine, her eyes shining, and I fight to keep my face void of the tortured feeling coursing through me. “I knew she had met someone who changed her. Who forced her out of her shell. Who turned her back into Jade, my Jade. Thank you for bringing my daughter back.”

I push away from the chair, Hudson’s hand falling away from my back.

I need to get out of this room. I need space. I turn on my heel, leaving the room.

“Are you okay,” Hudson asks, trying to catch me before I leave, but I don’t stop to answer him. “Jade,” he calls, but I keep walking.

“Let her go,” Mom says, her voice soft.

I can’t listen to her tell Hudson that it’s her fault. That the way I am and everything I gave up is her fault.

Because it’s not…I chose this…me…not her.

Maybe I could have had a friend or two to help me out, but I didn’t want the help. I was determined to do everything on my own. But I also didn’t want someone’s judgement. I didn’t want them to see the fights with my dad or the way I cared for my mom like one would a child.

I like to say I don’t care what people think about me, but I care about them passing judgement on my family when they can only see what’s on the surface.

I step out to the hallway and sink to the ground, inhaling and exhaling as I close my eyes.

“I’m not going to school,” I say as I open a can of soup in our small kitchen.

I haven’t gotten used to the trailer that’s now our home. I despise everything that it represents–everything we lost.

“Jade, you have to go,” Mom argues, sitting on the old tattered recliner I bought at a flea market.

“I don’t.” I pour the contents of the can into a plastic bowl and shove it in the microwave for a few minutes. “I’m staying. It’s done.” It was done the moment I saw her lying on the ground at my graduation two weeks ago. “You need help.”

“I have your dad.”

My eyes harden. “You don’t,” I argue. “Do you even know where he is?”

She tilts her head down. “No.”

“Exactly.” The microwave beeps, but I ignore it, moving closer to her. “You need me, and I’m going to help. You can’t change my mind, Mom.” I sit on the arm of the recliner, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “You and me–we’re gonna make it, and when we come out on the other side, I’ll go to school.”

She turns toward me, her eyes laced with unshed tears. “This isn’t right. You’re my daughter. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“You’ve taken care of me long enough. It’s my turn to be there for you.” I rub her shoulder, dropping my head to hers.

We sit on the chair, holding each other together, while everything falls apart.

My phone rings, and I dig it out of my pocket.

I answer without looking at the caller ID. “Hello.”

“This is Mr. Wade. Is this Jade?” he asks, sounding cheery.

I clear my throat. “Yes, sir.”

“I have good news. The charges have been dropped.”

“That’s it?” I ask, not believing something is actually working out in my favor.

“That’s it. No fine, no court, and no record.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem at all. I’ll have Karen send you a final bill. Stay out of trouble.”

I hang up after saying goodbye. I wish Mr. Wade could fix my mom. Dig her out of the hole she has so comfortably sunk herself into. But he can’t and neither can I.

I stand from the ground and head back in to the room, squaring my shoulders and holding myself high. And I pretend like I’m not withering away inside because of Mom’s words.

Hudson has his back to the door, standing over my mom’s bed when I click the door shut.

He glances over his shoulder at me, hearing my shoes squeak across the floor. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes scan my face, and I attempt a smile, hoping it comes off as reassuring instead of sad.

I walk around Mom’s bed and sit in the uncomfortable chair that might as well have my name burned in it. “I’m sorry.”

Mom shakes her head, playing with a strand of my hair. “It’s fine, honey.”

I press my lips together, watching as she shifts her attention between me and Hudson. “You’ve got a winner,” Mom says. “Don’t let him go. It’s not often you find someone like him.”

I nod my head, not able to make any sound come out of my mouth.

“You two should go,” she suggests, jerking her head to the window. “It’s beautiful outside. I was just out there listening to the birds chirp and feeling the sun beat down on me.” She looks at me pointedly. “Don’t waste your time, Jade.”

“I’m not wasting anything. I want to be here,” I say, my jaw tight. I need her to know it’s the truth.

“And I want you to go.”

Why is she always pushing me away? I want to be here for her, but she always wants me to leave. It’s like she’s trying to distance herself from me before I’m ready to let go. But I’ll never be ready. I’ll always want more…more time…more laughs…more of her.

She looks over at Hudson. “Thank you for meeting me. I’m glad my Jade is in good hands.”

He smiles at her. “That makes two of us.” His eyes slide over to me, and I avert my gaze, not ready to accept the meaning of all this.

“Now go,” she insists, shooing us away.

I stand from the chair and kiss her forehead, pushing her hair back from her face. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you, too,” she says, looking up at me from under her lashes.

Hudson and I head toward the door, and I grip his hand for support, holding it as tightly as I can. I peer over my shoulder, seeing my mom smile at me–everything about her at ease.

It’s like she was carrying her own weight on her shoulders, and it’s been lifted. Her eyes full of bliss, her cheeks pink, her smile genuine, and her body sunken into the bed.

She looks happy, so I hold on to the image, committing it to memory.

And then I close the door behind me, leaving her alone yet again.