Chapter 13
Kimberly’s POV
I couldn’t hide my battered face from Olivia’s watchful eyes.
She was absolutely livid, spending the next two days berating me for every little thing. When I reached for a glass of water? “You’ll spill it everywhere!” When I tried adjusting my pillow? “Stop fidgeting before you hurt yourself again!”
Her frustration wasn’t truly with me, but with the situation–her powerlessness against my disease, my stubbornness, and the relentless march of time.
By the second evening, her constant criticism finally broke me. I pulled the blanket over my head and burst into tears. “God, you’re absolutely brutal with those verbal daggers! You just love picking on me when I’m down,” I sobbed. “I dare you to take me to see my mother–she’d shut you down in thirty seconds flat. You’d never out–argue her.”
Olivia fell silent, the kind of heavy silence that makes a room feel airless. After what seemed like forever, I felt the mattress sink as she sat beside me. Her hand gently stroked my hair through the blanket.
“Once you’re a bit stronger,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, “I’ll take you to see your mom. That’s a promise.”
I knew she was lying. We both knew my “stronger” days were behind me.
But I couldn’t bear adding to the grief already etched into the lines around her eyes, so I pushed the blanket down and managed a weak smile. “Okay.”
Something shifted in me after that conversation. A new determination took hold–not to recover, which was impossible, but to gather enough strength for one final journey. I began forcing down handfuls of bitter pills without complaint, enduring the daily injections that left my arms looking like abstract watercolors of purple, blue and yellow. I stopped wincing when the nurses searched for viable veins.
Cedric watched from the corner of the room one afternoon as I stoically offered my arm for yet another needle. His knuckles whitened around the armrest of his chair. Without a word, he suddenly stood and stormed out, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the medical equipment.
That night, drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard raised voices in the hallway outside my room.
“She wants to visit her mother’s grave.” Cedric’s voice was tense with barely controlled anger. “What part of that request don’t you understand? What possible harm could one visit do at this point?”
Olivia’s response was immediate and venomous. “You’re just hoping she’ll die sooner, aren’t you? You absolute bastard! What’s the matter–is she hanging on too long for your convenience? Eager to upgrade your little side–piece to wife status?”
“That’s not-”
“Save it for someone who doesn’t know you, Cedric. I’ve watched you destroy her for years. Now you want to play the devoted husband? Where were you when she was vomiting blood alone in her bathroom? When she couldn’t afford the medication that might have given her more time?”
Their argument continued, voices rising and falling like waves against a shore. I pressed my palms against my ears, but couldn’t block the sounds of two people I loved tearing each other apart because of me.
Hot tears slid silently down my temples. What had I become? A burden. A source of pain for everyone around me. The woman who once prided herself on independence was now the center of arguments about whether she could handle a simple car ride.
The cruel irony wasn’t lost on me–I’d left Cedric years ago to avoid becoming his burden, only for fate to make me exactly that. I’d rejected his help when it might have made a difference, and now I was helpless to reject it when it no longer could.
I turned my face toward the window, watching the city lights blur through my tears. The night sky held no answers, only the same indifferent stars that had witnessed every human struggle since time began.
