Passionately Infatuated | pjm

Chapter 17

"I think we have to go," Jungkook said, glancing down at his phone just as it chimed. "She just texted me the address."

"I'll drive." I announced, my expression flatlined. Hastily, I grabbed my car keys from the table and strode towards the door, leaving Jungkook to scramble behind me.

The last thing I heard before the door shut behind me and the cold wind slapped me in the face was Y/N's hushed but clear voice.

"Who is Diane?"

***

Diane's POV

I pulled my eyes from the highly polished floor to catch a glimpse of the hospital hallway that stretched for what seemed to be infinity. The air reeked of hair-sanitizer, the harsh scent hitting my nostrils each time I inhaled.

I hated hospitals. I hated them so fucking much. I hated the bright fluorescent lights, the colorless gray walls, the soulless, depressing ambiance. The stretchers, the tubes, the needles... The emotionally detached way in which medical professionals would treat the unfortunates that ended up there... The bustling cacophony of sounds in the ER, the way the red light would go off when my mother was being transported inside, bruised and battered, half-conscious and in agony-

"Diane."

I looked up from my dampened palms to meet Quinn's concerned gaze. She fell down to her knees in front of me, putting her hand on top of mine and rubbing it with her thumb.

"You need to make a decision."

At that moment, I felt like my heart was going to explode and my eyes were wide with fear. My thoughts seemed to jump from one thing to another, scattered and fragmented. All of my fears were tumbling out of my brain, like I was in some kind of an emotional free-fall.

"Babe, we can stay here as long as you want, but I fear that he doesn't have that kind of time."

Quinn's loving voice reached my ears once again. It was then that I realized my white-knuckled hands were clutching onto hers for dear life. I felt the familiar prelude to an attack, like a deluge of ice cold water creeping from my feet to neck and mouth, all the way up to my head, and soon enough I'm drowning, I can't breathe, help, I'm dying, help...

"Diane!" Quinn pulled me back to reality. "I know it's hard, baby. Believe me, I know. But you won't be able to forgive yourself for the rest of your life if you don't walk into that room now. Don't do it for him... do it for yourself."

My mind was a carousel of thoughts. The floor that was previously melting underneath my feet felt a little bit more solid now. Quinn's presence served to keep me grounded. I shut my eyes closed, trying to steady my breathing as the doctor's words reverberated in my head.

"Ms. Young, apparently your father had a brain stroke. It's a condition that occurs when the blood supply to part of your brain is interrupted or reduced. We don't know what might have triggered it, but based on our tests it appears that it must have happened in the last three hours or so. He's currently unconscious and unresponsive. We can't say with absolute certainty if he'll wake up. I have to inform you that even if he does, there still might be some long-term complications like loss of speech, paralysis or loss of muscle movement. You may see him now if you'd like."

"I'm gonna do it," I said in between shuddering breaths. "I'm gonna go see him."

Quinn smiled fondly. "I think that's the right thing to do, sweetheart."

With her help, I somehow got to my feet. The distance across the hallway to my father's hospital room seemed like miles away now. I had no idea how I even got there on my own two feet. I stopped right in front of the door, suppressing the urge to vomit.