Chapter 21: A Drunken Idiot

\[Rue’s POV\]

I stare at Mr. Owens as he stares at me, determination flashing in those dark eyes of his.

He’s showing me that he means what he is saying and that nothing I do or say is going to change what he has just promised me.

Why?

Why was he insisting on staying beside me now that there was no reason for him to do so? Why was he shaking up my feelings like this right now when it felt like my whole fucking world was ending?

“Whatever,” I sigh, suddenly feeling too tired to argue. “Do what you want.”

I give him one last look before turning and taking in the large hospital in front of me.

Just knowing what waits for me inside that building breaks me and for a second I consider running away.

“Let’s go,” Mr. Owens says softly, easily catching onto my hesitation. “I’m sure that the doctors are waiting for us.”

Nodding, I allow myself to be led inside, where I have to go through the motions of going through paperwork and plans for what is to come next in regard to my mother.

It gives me a distraction that I need, but once I finish and head into the room where my mother still lies, I feel myself breaking again.

“If it’s too much for you, I can handle things.” Mr. Owens offers, but I just shake my head.

“She’s my family,” I whisper, wishing that she would just open her eyes and look at me. “I can’t just leave her.”

Says the girl who tried to die just to be with her. The small voice in the back of my head mocks me.

Flinching, I try not to think about my actions earlier because I know how selfish they were and how much my mother would scold me if she were aware of what I did.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, stepping beside my mother’s bed. “I’m fine.”

I repeat this mantra again and again as I stare at my mother’s face, taking her in, memorizing everything because I know that this will be the last time that I see her.

Once I’m finished, I turn and nod to Mr. Owens, who waits patiently, and when he steps closer, I head out into the hall.

I don’t know how long I stand there waiting while Mr. Owens says his final goodbyes to my mother, but when he emerges and comes to join me, I feel like I’ve waited an eternity.

“Let’s go home,” he says quietly, and I fight the urge to rush back into the room where my mother is and stay there stubbornly.

“Alright,” I whisper. “Let’s go home.”

When we arrive, I collapse on the couch and just stare at nothing.

Now that my mother wasn’t here, the house felt unusually empty and too quiet, even as Mr. Owens went through the motions of rummaging through the kitchen.

Was this how it was going to be from now on?

Was this place going to feel empty and devoid of warmth because the light that made it feel so warm and comfy was gone?

“I can’t handle that,” I murmur, looking around and feeling even more empty. “I don’t want to experience such a thing.”

I couldn’t stay here, but even when I suddenly felt the urge to get up and leave, to head back to my dorm that was filled with noises from the other students who surrounded me, I didn't move because there was someone here who needed me.

As this thought hits, I turn my gaze in the direction of the kitchen in time to see Mr. Owens emerge with two steaming mugs of something.

“Milk,” he explains, handing one to me. “After what we just went through, sleeping will be a bit difficult.”

Nodding, I stare at the mug's contents while getting the faintest whiff of honey.

“Finish this and then go to bed.” He tells me, falling perfectly into the role of parent. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

I didn’t want tomorrow to come because I knew what would come with it, but time didn’t stop for any man and most certainly not any woman.

“Alright.”

It’s all I can say as I bring my mug to my face, and as I move to take a sip, the front door opens and Mykel stumbles in.

“Where have you been?” Mr. Owens asks, eyeing him. “Nice of you to show your face.”

“Hey,” Mykel hiccups. “Who are y-you to scold me?”

“Your brother,” Mr. Owens responds. “Why the hell are you just showing up in this condition?”

“Broken heart,” he responds, shooting me a look. “And there’s the culprit.”

Remaining silent, I watch as Mr. Owens’ gaze comes to rest on me, and when a strange emotion flashes in his eyes, I look away.

“Mykel,” he says slowly, still watching me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to play at, but now isn’t the time.”

“Oh?” Mykel asks, stumbling forward and hitting his shin on the coffee table.

With wide eyes, I watch as he crashes into it, shattering the glass top and breaking the single vase of flowers that rested on it.

“Shit, that hurt.” Mykel growls, holding up his hand that is bleeding. “Who put this here?"

“Dammit,” Mr. Owens hisses, moving forward and then kneeling beside his brother. “You picked the perfect time to pull your shenanigans.”

“What?” Mykel argues. “Who is pulling what?”

I listen while the two brothers start to fuss over what has happened while my gaze stays locked on the flowers scattered about the floor.

My mother picked those out.

This is the only thing I can think of as Mykel presses a hand against some of them, crushing them in the process.

She bought those, and now they’re ruined.

I don’t know why this single thought enrages me, but all I want to do is slap him and make him hurt as much as I do from what he has done.

“Stop it,” I whisper, unable to handle it. “STOP RUINING THINGS!”

My voice echoes around us, drawing both Mr. Owens' and Mykel's gazes to me, and when they give me twin looks of confusion, I stand up.

"I'm going to bed," I announce, knowing that if I didn't escape now, I would certainly end up saying something that I regretted.