Hopelessly Falling [book 2]

Chapter Forty-Two

I could tell he didn't know what to say as he sat down on the side of the bed. Another tear fell down my face and he gently wiped it off. I used all the energy I could gather into raising my heavily bandaged hand to hold him, but he took my hand and brought it back down to my side.

"Just get some rest," his voice was soft and deep as he spoke quietly. I almost started crying just at how soothing it was for my soul to hear it again. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his lips soft and warm against my cold skin.

"I'm sorry," I tried to say, but it came out as barely more than a brisk whisper. He shook his head and cupped my cheek carefully with his hand, wiping off another tear with his thumb.

"Just rest," he repeated himself again softly, and I listened. I stared up into his eyes and only stopped looking at them when I eventually fell back asleep.

• • •

When I woke up again, I felt slightly less heavy and groggy than I had the first time. My voice was still hoarse and painful as I spoke.

"M-mom?" She turned to look at me, her eyes instantly watering.

"Baby," she rushed to me and gave me a soft hug, careful of all my bruises. I tried to hug her back, able to move my arms more now. She cried into my hair.

When she finally pulled away, she told me everything. About how I had alcohol poisoning, and how Ashton found me unconscious in the shower. About how they weren't sure where the bruises or the cut on my hand came from, but that they were planning on asking me what I remembered when I woke up.

Ashton told me once about how much he hated hospitals with all of his being. After all the time he spent in one with his dad, he never planned on spending another night in one again. But last night he had. It was the next day already, and my mom told me he had gone home to check on Jake and Layla real quick.

She didn't have to speak the question that I read all over her expression. 'Why?'

"I'm broken, momma," my voice strained as I spoke, and some tears spilled down my cheeks, "and I was scared to tell you, because you're not broken anymore."

"Sweetie," she looked over my face, pushing back some hair from my forehead. "Don't ever think like that. Ever." I could tell she meant it with her whole heart, and it brought more tears to my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I cried, and she hugged me again. "How did you do it?" She pulled back to look at me, "how did you stop drinking?" I breathed out, and her brows lowered in sadness.

"It didn't just go away, you know. I still work every single day to stay sober. Every day," she started, and I looked at her a little confused. I realized just then that I never talked with her enough about this gigantic part of her life. She wasn't just my mother.. she was Paige Summers- a real person who deserved real support from me, the person who knew her most.

"Do you know what one of the things they told me to do at rehab was? To see your face every time I picked up a glass of something. To imagine your eyes looking right at mine, because they knew that you were the one thing I valued over that shit," she told me, and I listened. She wasn't at all upset with me?

"I don't care if one day you think all your friends hate you, or if any boyfriend or girlfriend you might have in life hurts you, I want you to look at that glass and see my face. See me begging you to not make my same mistakes. Don't turn into what I became. If you do, then I might as well have failed with my life completely," she begged, yet somehow was still really comforting me.

"We made it out the other side, baby. And we can stay out here. Together." She finished, and I drew in another shaky breath as more tears slipped from both of our eyes. "It's what your father would have wanted."