Chapter 27

She looks the same as she did yesterday except, maybe smaller. Did she shrink? She's just so frail. Pale skin, hollow cheeks, and sunken eyes. They used to be so vibrant and full of life, the same whiskey green as mine. What I wouldn't give to have her open her eyes so I can see them again.

"We're going to wake her up, but I can't make any promises," Doctor Anson explains gently. "Her blood pressure and oxygen are stable, but that could change when she's awake. We'll keep a close eye on her and take it hour by hour."

More like minute by minute. I'm not leaving her side for a second.

The nurse inserts a needle into the IV port taped to the back of her hand. "Now we just wait," she says.

I trace the dark blue veins bulging beneath the pale skin of my mama's hand, waiting to feel her twitch, even the slightest movement, any sign of life. Riggs's strong hand on my shoulder reminds me of his solid presence. He's been my rock, right by my side through this whole ordeal. Reminding me I'm never alone, even though I feel like I am.

She continues to rest comfortably for another thirty minutes until she begins to stir. "Mama? Can you hear me?" When she finally opens her eyes, I'm the first thing she sees. "Hey, Mama. Been waitin' on you to wake up. You needed your beauty sleep, though." She tries to smile but doesn't succeed.

I scoot aside as the doctor completes an assessment, shining a penlight in her eyes, asking her to turn her head from side to side, and checking her extremities for lack of sensation. The nurse changes out her bag of IV fluids for a fresh one and hands me the call button.

"Let me know if anything changes before I come back to check on her."

I sweep her bangs from her forehead and manage a weak smile. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

She can barely squeeze my hand. "You didn't sit here the whole time, did you, baby?"

"You know I did, Mama. I sat here thinkin' about you and me growin' up together. The best times of my life were with you." I swore I wasn't gonna cry in front of her, but I can feel the tears coming and I'm powerless to stop them. "You're in every memory I have, and now—" I can't even finish that sentence. Saying it out loud is admitting defeat, and I'm not done fighting.

"You're gonna have to make some new memories now, pecan. Memories that don't include me." Her speech sounds slow, like she's too exhausted to speak.

"No, Mama. No, I won't!"

"Hush. You spent the last four years on your own. The Army made a man out of you in a way I never could. Broke my heart to see you leave, but I thank God every day you made that decision. You can do this, Rhett."

"No, Mama, we still have so many memories to make together, so many things we were supposed to do."

"Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect. We take what we get and we're thankful it's no worse than it is," she quotes from her favorite movie. I'm pretty sure I've rolled my eyes every single time she's quoted that movie, but now I'd give anything for her to stick around and bug me with that shit. "I wrote down all your favorite recipes and left them in your kitchen. Back home, in my attic, you'll find all the stuff I saved of yours when you were little, and in the closet in the guestroom, you'll find all my picture albums."

"I don't want to talk about that stuff, Mama. I want to talk about?—"

"You listen to me, Rhett Butler. You can't put off what's comin' tomorrow or the next day. You have to face it head-on, look it in the eye, and flick it off."

I can't swallow, I can't breathe. My head is swimming with thoughts and memories and feelings, and I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it. "Tell me what to do, Mama. Tell me what you want. Do you want me to take you back home to Ruston? I can stay with you."

"No, baby. Your life is here. You're needed here. That house, it's always been filled with happiness and love. I don't want to die there. I don't want to taint the memories we made there."

"But Mama," I argue. I look around at the sterile room and the medical equipment. Who wants to die in a hospital?

"Rhett, honey, I won't make it that long." She says it so matter-of-factly, like she's already made peace with her dying.

"How long did you know you were sick? Why didn't you say anythin'?"

"You were on the other side of the world when I found out. I didn't need you worryin' about me. I needed you focused so you could come home safe."

"If… if you don't…" I have to pause and clear my throat. "Do you want to be buried next to your parents? You could wear that pretty costume you made. I bet you still fit in it."

The corner of her mouth pulls up like she's trying to smile. "I loved that dress. But no, don't you dare put me in the ground next to my parents. It's so far away from here, I bet you'll never come to see me. I want to be close to you so I can watch over you, so I don't miss nothin'." She closes her eyes for a moment, and I think she's gonna take a nap, but then she opens them again. "Don't you go plannin' no funeral for me, neither, Rhett. I won't have all that sad cryin' and blusterin'. I want to be celebrated. I've lived a good life, short, but good, and I want you to celebrate all the years we had together."

I nod as tears stream from my eyes, coating my skin with grief.

"That man," she nods at Riggs, who's pretending to be asleep in the corner. I know he's pretending. "He's a goodun'. You hang onto him and don't let go."

"Mama, he's… I love him."

She lays her hand over our joined hands. "I know, baby. And I'm so proud of you. You're both good men. Don't you ever be ashamed of lovin' a good man."

Her blinks become longer as her eyelids grow heavier. "You tired, Mama?"

"Yes, baby. Let Mama get some rest."

"I'll be right here when you wake up," I assure her.

Riggs clears his throat and I turn to him. In the next instant, his arms are around me, and he's holding me so tight he might just squeeze all the grief out of me.

His voice sounds like sharp gravel. "It's killing me to see you hurting so badly."

"It would kill me worse if you weren't here."

"I'm not going anywhere, soldier."

My mama sleeps for hours. Riggs slips out to grab us both coffee. I didn't realize how tired I was, but he gently shakes me awake. I lift my head from my mama's tray table, littered with glossy brochures and folded origami figurines. My mama loves birds, and I've been trying to make every single one I can think of—flamingos, cranes, another eagle, a hummingbird—I want to surround her with the things she loves.

"Here, babe, drink this." He offers me the steaming cup of coffee, and I take it gratefully, savoring the first rich sip.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You're never going to have to find out," he swears.

I want to believe him because it's what I want to hear, but then I remember how we argued before and I can't help but wonder how long forever means to him.

I finish off my coffee and push to my feet. My leg aches, stiff from sitting for hours. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

The one in my mama's room is jam-packed with medical equipment not being used, so I make my way down the hall, limping as I clutch the safety railing on the wall for support. I feel like I've stepped into another world. The hustle and bustle of the hospital, nurses laughing and eating lunch behind the desk, patients being transferred to various departments, visitors with children—none of it has anything to do with my mama, which feels foreign to me, bizarre even. My whole world revolves around her and right now, with her being sick, with the threat of losing her too soon, I can't even fathom how life goes on or what people would have to laugh about.

There's no life for me outside of my mama's room.

I finish my business in the bathroom and shuffle back to her room, realizing I missed something while I was gone. Riggs looks devastated. He's chewing his bottom lip to pieces, a frown forming between his eyes.

"What is it? Is it my mama?" I can see his throat working like he's having difficulty swallowing, and he scrubs his face.

"Just got a call from my command."

"And?" My heart's gonna beat right outta my chest, like a horse galloping from its stable.

"You know how, in the reserves, we get called up every month or so for a weekend of training?"

A dead weight drops to the bottom of my stomach. I can feel him slipping away from me. "Did you get called up?"

He nods. "But not for the weekend. It's annual training. Two weeks."

I can't lose him now, not when everything is falling apart. He's my rock. My lifeline. I'll lose my fucking sanity without Riggs keeping me anchored. "When do you leave?"

"0600." Fourteen hours. I have fourteen hours left with him. "I'm going to run home and pack. Tie up a few loose ends at work. Mandy is on his way to stay with you. I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Riggs, you can't sleep here tonight. You need to rest."

"I told you, I'm not leaving your side, not until they drag me away."

Fucking tears rush forth again, and I don't even try to swipe them away this time. He pulls me close, and I bury my face in his shirt, soaking it with my misery. "Promise me you're comin' back to me."

"I promise you, soldier. I swear to fucking God I'm coming back."

Over his shoulder, I glance at my mama. She's awake, watching us with a sad face. Great, as if she doesn't already have enough sadness on her rail-thin shoulders.

"Rhett, give me a minute alone with Riggs, please."

Her request surprises me. What's she got to say to him that I can't hear? "Yes, ma'am."

I walk out of the room and shut the door behind me. Minutes later, Mandy, West, Brandt, and Nash approach, and I can hear their booted footsteps from all the way down the hall.

They don't say nothing in the way of a greeting, they just crush me in a group hug. The tears fall harder. It feels good. It feels like a release, although there's no end to my suffering. It just keeps multiplying, like a rash spreading throughout my body until it immobilizes me.

"Do you want to come back home while he's gone? I'm right next door and I can check on you."

I don't ever want to go back there. It was never my home. I don't ever again want to sleep in the bed where my mama was slowly dying or eat in the kitchen where she passed out. I shake my head.

"Then I'll come stay with you at Riggs's place. I hear he's got a hot tub," he jokes.

He lets me go, and I suck a deep, unsteady breath into my lungs. I could try to be strong, to say I don't need him, how it's not necessary, but I'm not even going to lie like that. I do need him. "Sounds good," I croak, sounding like a bullfrog.

Brandt leans his hand on my shoulder. "I know he's leaving, but that doesn't mean you're alone. You're not. You've got more support than you probably want. We're here for you the whole way, and Riggs is coming back. He'll be back before you know it."

Another round of fresh tears hits and the pressure wells up inside of my head, behind my eyes. I lean in to hug him to hide my wet face.

"I love you, brother."

This is the first time I've said anything like that or acknowledged that these men are my friends, my brothers, really. It feels good. It feels right. Riggs opens the door.

"We'll be in the waiting room down the hall if you need us," says West.

I know Riggs is taking off, and I don't want to be alone. "It's all right, y'all can come in. You just gotta keep it down so my mama can rest."

They make their way inside her room, and I'm alone with Riggs. I search his face, trying to commit his features to memory.

Fuck, I'm gonna miss him so bad.

He tilts my chin up, brushing his nose against mine. "Do you know how I knew I was in love with you?" he asks. I just shake my head. I can't imagine what he's gonna say. "You'd say or do the dumbest shit, and instead of getting angry with you, I just wanted to smile. I wanted to kiss you," he breathes over my lips.

My laugh is quick and shallow. The first one in days. "I fell in love with you because you saw me at my worst and still wanted me. You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. You made me feel like it was all right to be the worst version of myself, and yet, you made me want to be the best version I could be. That's how I knew I loved you."

He crushes his lips to mine. It's a wild, passionate, sloppy kiss. His fingers tighten in my hair like he never wants to let me go. His kiss steals the breath from my lungs. I don't care. I could die happy while kissing him. In fact, I hope it's the last thing I ever do.

"I'm coming back for you, soldier. You're mine, don't forget that."

Like I could ever forget.