When We Collide Read Online Free PDF

set in, a wall of unease and unfamiliarity that
the years of absence had built between mother and son.
    “Hi,” she said. Her gaze swept over me. Her eyes
were red but tender, and they softened further when she looked back
up to my face.
    “Hey,” I whispered and stepped forward, noticing the
distinct silence that had set in the air. It was a calm, almost
disturbing quiet. “I was just coming to find you.”
    She smiled at the words. It appeared as if the
action hurt.
    “Blake and the girls left for the night, so I came
up to check on Lara.” She glanced in the direction of Blake’s old
room then back at me, her face suddenly swamped in sadness. “Did
you…want to see her?”
    My gut twisted, and I instinctively looked in the
direction where my aunt lay dying. A dense haze of dread clouded my
mind as I thought of facing what waited behind that door. I looked
back at Mom, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
    She nodded. “I need to warn you, she’s sedated.
She’s not awake much, but when she is, she isn’t making a whole lot
of sense.” Pausing at the closed door, Mom turned back to look at
me, her mouth trembling. “She’s getting near the end.”
    I reached for my mother’s hand and squeezed it. I
wished I could give her some form of comfort while knowing I could
offer her none. She pressed her eyes closed in return, a rush of
tears suddenly falling down her face, then opened the door and
stepped back to allow me to pass.
    All the breath left me when I saw Aunt Lara lying in
the hospital bed. The head was inclined to keep her propped up, her
hair thin and patchy. I’d always remembered her strong. Now she was
bone thin. Her face was sunken, her cheekbones prominent, her skin
brittle and gray. A single machine sat next to her bed, attached to
an IV administering narcotics to make her comfortable.
    I forced myself across the room and sank down onto
one of the two chairs at the side of the bed. I took her cold hand
in mine. Her mouth hung open while she slept. Each breath seemed to
be a struggle as she forced the air in and out of her lungs.
    Had I forgotten how much I loved her?
    Dropping my head and eyes, I ran my thumb over the
back of her hand, hoping she could feel me and that she somehow
would know I was there. I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Aunt Lara.”
    Her grip was weak, but I felt the change in pressure
when she tried to clasp mine. When I looked up, her eyes were
fluttering, unintelligible sounds voiced from her moving lips.
    Quickly, I shifted forward and touched the back of
my other hand to her forehead.
    “William.” It was raspy, but clear. Her eyes came
into focus when they locked with mine.
    I smiled down at her, ran a hand down her stringy
hair, and wished I could take back the last six years. “Hi, Aunt
Lara.”
    “I knew you’d come.” Her lips quivered as she
attempted to smile, gurgling audible in her throat as she fought to
suck in air.
    “I’m—”
    “Don’t.” She coughed, her eyelids fluttering as if
she were being pulled under again, barely hanging onto
consciousness. “I know you’re...sss...sorry. You’re here...now...is
all that matters.” Her hand tightened in mine as her lucidity
faded, the hint of a smile touching the edge of her mouth. Her
breaths came heavy once again and her jaw went slack, her mind
dragged back into oblivion.
    I looked up at the white, stained, popcorn ceiling,
fighting the quaking that jackhammered against my ribs.
    This was harder than I’d ever believed.
    I sat with her for the longest time, longer than I
probably knew. I finally stood and brushed my lips across her
forehead.
    When I stepped back out into the hall, Mom was still
there, waiting in a cloak of anxiety, passing time by studying the
pictures lining the wall that detailed mine and Blake’s
childhood.
    “How is she?” she asked when I latched the door shut
behind me.
    “Resting now. She woke up for a couple of minutes.
She knew I was there.”
    I watched her