The Secrets She Kept

The Secrets She Kept - Chapter 16

My stomach fluttered. I would not examine it. I would not wonder why. Instead, my eyes dropped to his fingers curled around mine.

"Is it your mum?" He asked after a pause. My hand clenched tight beneath his. "Is she sick?"

"Can we not talk about this? Please."

"Rosie, I don't want to push but whatever is going on is eating you up inside."

"I don't need your pity."

"You are one of the most frustrating women I have ever met," he growled, running a hand through his hair. "It's not pity. It's called caring for another person."

I averted my gaze and drew in a shaky breath. I'm sure my hands were shaking too. I tried so hard to keep things bottled up where they belonged. But Richie? He just wanted to open that bottle top and let everything spill out.

Despite my delaying tactics, his eyes remained trained on the side of my face.

"Are we really doing this?" I asked with a sigh, peering up at him before glancing over his shoulder. My eyes focused on a mark on the painted wall behind him.

"Even you need someone to talk to."

"It's difficult," I said eventually. "There's just ... a lot. I can't even talk to my sister about it."

"I didn't realise you had a sister."

I snorted. "Why would you? We're not exactly best friends, Richie. We're just co-workers."

A flash of emotion dashed across his face. It moved across his features so quickly that I almost missed it. His fingers twitched around mine and, after a moment, he drew away. He tucked his hands into his pockets. Whatever barriers had vanished between us in the recent days and weeks had suddenly become ten foot tall. I had no one to blame but myself. It was all on me.

"Well, just as co-workers, I can listen if you need someone to talk to." His voice was sharp, his frustration carved into the deep furrows in his brow. He picked up his coffee cup, his eyes avoiding mine. "I should get going. I've got that thing to do."

"Thing?" I replied, watching as he started backing away. "Wait, Richie. I didn't mean."

"That's the thing, Rosie. You don't often mean things but, as someone who has tried to be your friend, I don't appreciate them being thrown back in my face." He turned, coffee cup in hand. "My cousin said hello by the way."

Bracing my hands on the side, I closed my eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, my stomach twisted and turned uncomfortably. Fuck. First mum and now him. How many more people was I going to hurt just because I thought I knew what was best?

"Well, that was painful to watch," Lindsey murmured, slipping into room with a smile.

"No one asked you to watch," I replied bluntly, removing the bag from my tea and dumping it into the bin.

"Okay, wow. Someone crawled out of the bed on the wrong side today."

"Lindsey, please stop." I replied, pleading with my eyes.

She shifted back a step and folded her arms across her chest. "Okay, I'll stop. But, Rosie? He's right, if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to us. We will listen."

"Thank you –."

"And please, speak to Richie. He likes you, you know." She said, her words heavy with meaning that I was in no headspace to even try to interpret. "Make up with him before I have to spend the day looking at his puppy dog expression."

I nodded my head.

"I will - ."

Before I could finish the thought, my ringtone jangled loudly between us. With unsteady hands, I pulled out my phone. The care home's phone number was emblazoned across the screen. I swiped to answer and pressed the device to my ear.

"Is this Rosie?"

"It is."

"Hi, Rosie. My name is Sheila and I'm calling from Three Oaks Residential Home about your mother, Evelyn. Unfortunately she's taken ill and is on route to the hospital as we speak." The woman reeled off the words professionally. And yet, it was what was not said. The heaviness in her tone.

"Where?"

"They're taking her to Saint Augustine's."

I nodded my head, all blood rushing down towards my feet along with my stomach. I staggered to the side, my hand catching the edge of the countertop as I tried to remain upright.

"How -? How bad is she?" I asked, my arm shaking as I held the phone to my ear.

There was brief pause before the woman replied softly, "I think you need to prepare yourself. They think it may be pneumonia and in her current condition - ."

My eyes squeezed closed. She didn't need to say it. With how far her disease had progressed in the past weeks and months, she might not be strong enough to fight it off.

Please not now. Please don't let her die. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready.

"Thank you for calling. I'll meet them at the hospital."

She said a few more placating words but I couldn't hear them. After a few long seconds, I pulled the phone away and then tucked it back into my pocket.

On autopilot, I dumped my tea into the sink, put the cup in the dishwasher, and turned to leave. It was only when a pair of hands rested on my shoulders, and Lindsey's face appeared before mine, that I realised she had been speaking to me.

"Is everything okay, Rosie?"

I shook my head, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I could only force out one word. "No."

She pulled me into a brief hug, a tight bear hug that was as uncomfortable as it was comforting.

"I can see you need to go but you're in no state to drive." She pulled back, her hands resting on my shoulders. "Wait here and we'll make sure you get there safely, okay?"

I nodded my head then glanced around me without truly seeing anything. My heart was pounding in my chest and my stomach twisted. Nausea rose within me.

Turning, I hurtled towards the bin and flipped open the lid. Leaning over, I wretched. The smell of banana skins and discarded food only made me heave more. I heaved until my stomach ached. Not that there was much to bring up.

The entire time, tears poured down my face. What if this was it? What if I was really losing her?

I had been losing her slowly for so damn long. And yet, it suddenly felt all too real. I couldn't lose her. Not now.

Hands carefully scooped up my hair and pulled it from my face. A hand gently rubbed at my back.

My stomach gave one last lurch before I forced myself upright, my hand shakily pressing to my mouth.

"Here you go," Richie said softly, passing a piece of kitchen towel over my shoulder.

"Thank you." I murmured, dabbing at my face and wishing desperately for mouth wash to clear the taste from my mouth.

I leaned back into Richie, weariness settling into my bones. His body was warm against my back. It felt good to have someone to lean on because my legs did not feel like they were capable of holding me too much longer. I was weak in both body and soul in that moment.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, wiping my face one last time and dumping it into the big. I closed the lid which did nothing to mute the smell.

"Sorry for what?"

"For what I said before. For the bin. Take your pick." I muttered, pulling away from his warm chest.

It took everything I had to step away from his arms, pull my armour on, and prepare for the fight ahead.

"Let's not worry about that." Richie replied, brushing off my apology. "I'll take you to the hospital. Jacob said I can stay with you as long as you need me."

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I didn't need anyone. I had been saying it for as long as I could remember. And yet, I didn't say it. I couldn't say it. Instead, the bone deep exhaustion spoke for me.

"Thank you, Richie."