Chapter Fifty-Seven

Aiden

“ U nfortunately, we haven’t seen any improvement with the new medications,” the nurse says calmly, the unspoken apology clear in her tone.

Calm being the exact opposite of what I’m feeling right now, back in the nurse’s office with Evie sitting at my side. Frustration, helplessness, anger, and guilt all swirl in my gut, making it hard to breathe. I’m sick of getting bad news. I hate that it brings up all this shit I don’t want to feel. I bury it all down, getting control of my emotions before I speak.

“What else can we do?” I ask.

“The doctor will be here tomorrow, and we can ask her about adjusting your mother’s medications again, if you’re in agreement,” she explains.

“Yes, let’s keep trying,” Evie says with determination. Neither of us want to accept how little we can change what’s happening. How quickly Mom continues to slip away from us.

“Okay. I’ll call you afterward to update you and we can meet again to plan next steps.”

The Aviators’ schedule is packed with a double header tomorrow and a road trip after that. I know I won’t get time with Mom for a few days.

Evie and I join her in her room, where she’s sitting in her chair quietly watching a show.

“Hey, Mom,” Evie says softly, sitting in the chair next to her, reaching to hold her hand.

Mom’s gaze sweeps over her slowly and a soft smile appears beneath the fog of confusion surrounding her.

“Hi, Mom, what are you watching?” I ask, wanting to keep the topic of conversation neutral since I’m not sure where she’s at today.

My voice seems to startle her, and when she turns to look at me, her jaw drops in shock.

“What are you doing here? I told you I was leaving. I’m taking Aiden and Evie with me. We have nothing more to talk about,” she yells at me.

When I register her words, I’m left speechless. The room blackens at the edge of my vision.

Does she…does she think I’m him? My father?

If Evie and Mom were the same age, they’d be confused as twins for how much she takes after her.

I’m not as lucky.

I still have the old photos of him. I’ve looked him up on social media a few times over the years. I’m not stupid. I know I look like him no matter how much I wished that wasn’t true. The resentment has festered at how unmistakable the resemblance between us is.

Mom is clearly confused about what year it is and where she is. That disturbing fact is barely able to register in my mind since all I can think about is how she’s unable to distinguish me—her own son—from the hurtful man from our past.

Fuck, I’m gonna be sick.

I can feel my insides shredding into pieces right before numbness sweeps over me.

My mom continues yelling at me, demanding I leave. She’s roaring her grievances fiercely, fighting a nonexistent threat…or at least one that’s long since been buried in our past.

I can’t make out any more of her words as everything around me blurs. I’m vaguely aware of myself taking several unstable steps backward out of the room and into the hall. I turn and lean my back against the wall outside her door, before my knees give out, and I slide to the floor in a heap.

Staff members rush into Mom’s room. I listen as Evie and the nurses try to calm her and reassure her that everything’s okay. After a few minutes, my brain isn’t able to comprehend anymore. The roaring static in my head drowns the noise around me. I can feel my mind and body shutting down.

I’m not sure how much time passes before Mom eventually falls quiet and Evie steps out into the hall, sitting down next to me.

I think she says my name, but I don’t look at her or respond. She hugs me and I feel her tears as they fall onto my shoulder.

I don’t cry. I just let Evie hold onto me as my world falls apart around me. I wish her arms were strong enough to hold me together, but that kind of strength doesn’t exist.

* * *

I fumble with my keys before finally stumbling into my apartment.

Hopper jumps up to greet me, his paws on my chest, but I don’t have the energy to correct his behavior or remind him to sit. I ruffle his head and keep walking, Hopper trailing behind and joining me when I fall to the couch. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees holding my head in my hands.

Evie drove me home, not trusting me to get here safely. Can’t blame her. I can’t focus on anything right now.

She follows me into my place and sits on the other side of Hopper.

“We should talk about it, Aiden,” she says softly.

“That’s the last thing we should do,” I mumble in response.

“We need to.”

“No, Evie. We really don’t. This is our life now, right? I just have to fucking deal with it.” I feel so goddamn defeated. Everything is out of control, and I’m trying my best to keep my ugly thoughts from spilling out.

Was today only the beginning? One day, will my own mother no longer be able to look at me ever again? Bile threatens to make an appearance, my stomach turning over uncomfortably, and again, I think I’m going to be sick.

“It was one day, Aiden. One horrible, fucked-up day. It’s not fair and it’s never going to be easy, but she’s still here. We can’t give up on her.”

I stand and step away from Evie, gripping and pulling at my own hair, so frustrated I could punch a wall.

“I’m not giving up on her, Eves,” I shout. “You were there today; she had no idea who the fuck I was. I don’t want to be the reason for that reaction ever again.”

The look on her face is all pity, and I can’t handle it.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t mean to yell.” I close my eyes to take a deep breath, dropping my fists to rest on my hips, my head hanging low, guilt swooping in to punch me in the stomach. “Every time I picture Mom’s face from today, the anger and fear there…god, it’s got me fucked up right now and I don’t know how to handle it.”

I’ve always been terrified that, in addition to appearances, my father’s flaws would be passed onto me as well. Having my mom look at me like that…like she’d look at him…it feels like it’s inevitable. Someday, I’ll turn out just like he did. Angry, selfish, bitter, and alone .

“Maybe you should talk to someone, Aiden. Everything about this is unpredictable, and it’s dredging up all the messed-up shit from our past. No one would judge you for getting help to deal with it.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. I hate the idea, but I owe it to Evie and my mom to at least consider it.

“Please do. Because I…I can’t do this by myself. I need you there with me…with us…” her voice fades away and I look up to see her as she begins to cry again.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here for you and Mom both. We’ll…we’ll figure it out.”

She stands and we hug before Hop begins to circle around us, distressed from me shouting and now Evie crying. We both reassure him before he calms down again, but he stays close, nudging my hand with his nose every so often, looking for contact.

When Evie leaves and it’s just Hop and me in my quiet apartment, he doesn’t leave my side. I don’t check my phone. Instead, I go to bed at five thirty, skipping dinner, suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. I lie down in bed, my mind completely empty, numbness taking the place of everything. Hopper lies against my side, keeping a watchful eye on me. I rest my hand on his back, holding him close and focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathes beside me. He might be the only thing keeping my mind from breaking even further before I drift into a fitful sleep.