Chapter 110
Mother Secret.
Chris’ POV:
I laid in my bed the next morning, unenthusiastic to do anything.
It is weekend however, so I could be in bed for the whole day.
I consecrated on the movie I was seeing when, my phone blazed almost immediately.
It was Jake.
“Hey!” He said.
“Where have you been all this time and why are you not answering your phone?” He asked and I could sense urgency in his voice.
“You need to come to the hospital now!” Jake told me.
“Mom is sick.” He said.
“The address has been sent to you already!” He said and hung up, leaving me fretting.
I opened my phone, and there were tons of unanswered phone calls from Jake and mother.
“Damn!” I said and saw myself running around to get my car keys.
I rushed to the hospital, my heart racing with worry.
It did not know if there was a problem, but Jake’s call would not let me stop worrying.
His call had been brief, but the concern in his voice had been clear.
“Chris, your mom’s in the hospital. You need to get here ASAP.” I recall.
I burst through the hospital doors, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of my mother. Jake was pacing in the waiting area, his eyes locked onto mine as I approached.
“Hey, man, thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low and serious.
“She’s been asking for you.” He told me.
I nodded, my throat tightening with emotion.
“How is she?” I asked him.
Jake hesitated before speaking.
“Not great, Chris. The doctors say she needs to rest, but… she has been asking for you nonstop.” He revealed.
I took a deep breath and followed Jake to her room. As I entered, my mother’s eyes locked onto mine, a faint smile on her lips.
“Chris, my son,” she whispered, her voice weak but full of love.
I took her hand, feeling a surge of emotion.
“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked her.
“Jake said you were sick.” I added.
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.
I felt a pang of regret and sadness as I looked at my mother’s frail form. She had always been my rock, my confidante, my guiding light.
And now, she lay in this hospital bed, her body weak and her eyes sunken. I couldn’t help but think about how I had left home to pursue my dreams, leaving her behind.
“Mom, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion.
“I should have been here for you. I shouldn’t have left.” I cried.
“No, Chris, don’t apologize. You had to follow your heart. I am proud of you.” She smiled weakly and squeezed my hand.
But I couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt and regret. I had been so focused on my own ambitions, my own desires, that I had neglected the person who had always been there for me.
I thought about all the times I had promised to visit but never did, all the phone calls I had missed, all the moments I had taken for granted.
“Mom, I should have been here,” I repeated, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
“I should have been here to take care of you, to support you, to be with you.” I told her.
She looked at me with a faint glint in her eye.
“You’re here now, Chris. That’s all that matters.” She told me.
But I knew it wasn’t enough. I had missed so much time, so many moments, with my mother. And now, it might be too late. I felt a wave of grief wash over me, and I buried my face in her hand, tears streaming down my face.
“Mom, please don’t leave me,” I whispered, my voice shaking with emotion.
“Please don’t go.” I begged her.
She stroked my hair with her weak hand, her touch warm and comforting.
“I’ll always be with you, Chris,” she whispered back.
“Always.” She added.
“I have something to tell you, Chris. Something important.”
I leaned in, my heart pounding in my chest. “What is it, Mom?”
She took a deep breath, her eyes locked onto mine.
“It is about Maya…” She said when she started coughing uncontrollably.
“Mom, who is Maya?” I asked, my voice urgent.
“What do you want to tell me about her?” I asked her.
But before she could respond, her eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp. I felt a surge of panic as her machines began to beep erratically.
“Mom! Mom, wake up!” I shouted, shaking her gently.
But she did not respond. The doctors rushed in, pushing me aside as they surrounded her bed.
“Sir, you need to step back,” one of them said firmly.
I felt a wave of fear wash over me as I watched them work on her. What was happening? Why was her condition worsening so suddenly?
“What’s going on?” I demanded, trying to push my way back to her side.
But the doctors held me firm.
“We need to get her stabilized,” one of them said.
“Please, sir, wait outside.” I was told.
I felt a sense of helplessness wash over me as I was forced to wait outside her room, my mind racing with questions. Who was Maya? What did my mother want to tell me about her? And what was happening to my mother’s health?
The minutes ticked by like hours as I paced outside her room, my heart heavy with worry. Finally, the doctor emerged, his expression grim.
“Chris, we have stabilized your mother for now,” he said.
“But we need to run some tests to determine what is causing her condition to deteriorate so rapidly.” He told me
I felt a wave of fear wash over me. “Will she be, okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor hesitated before speaking.
“We will do everything we can, Chris. But we need to be prepared for the worst.” He said as my eyes widened with fear.
As I gaze up at the doctor’s solemn face, I can’t help but wonder: is what I’ve feared most finally here? The thought sends a chill down my spine.
I have always tried to push it away, to convince myself it would not happen. But the doctor’s expression tells a different story.
His eyes seem to hold a deep sadness, a sense of regret. His mouth is set in a firm line, as if he’s bracing himself for something. I feel my heart racing, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
“Doctor, what is it?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“What’s going on with my mom?” I asked him.
He took a deep breath before speaking, his words measured and careful.
“Chris, we are doing everything we can. But… it’s not looking good.” He said.
My world seems to slow down, like everything is moving in slow motion. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. The doctor’s words echo in my mind, refusing to sink in.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. My mom can’t… she just can’t.