Page 70 of Shattered

I remember thinking I could live in this moment forever.

Afterward, lying tangled together while our breathing slowed and his fingers traced lazy patterns on my hip, reality started creeping back in.

My phone lit up on the nightstand—six missed calls. All from Daniel.

“I should check that,” I said, reaching for the phone at last.

“Everything okay?” Axel asked.

“He’s probably just checking in. You know how he is.”

But Daniel didn’t call six times in a row for check-ins. Something was wrong. Anxiety settled hard in my chest.

I called back, still wrapped in Axel’s sheets, still warm from his touch.

Daniel answered immediately.

“Delia.” Just my name — but something in the way he said it made every nerve in my body go cold, making the warmth from Axel’s touch feel obscene. The happiness curdled into something ugly and wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mom collapsed this morning. Maria found her. We’re at the hospital.” His voice was panicked. “You need to come now.”

The phone slipped from my hand—dropped, clattering against the hardwood floor with a sound that felt too loud.

My mother had collapsed. This morning. While I’d been teaching, texting Axel and saying I couldn’t wait to see him. While I’d been rushing to his apartment because I wanted him more than I wanted to check on her.

This morning.

Hours ago.

And I’d ignored Daniel’s calls because I’d been too busy being happy.

Axel was saying something—asking what was wrong—but his voice sounded far away. Like I was underwater and he was calling from the surface. Like there was an entire ocean between us now where five minutes ago there’d been nothing but skin and want and perfect happiness.

All I could think was: mom had called me yesterday, she had said that she had something important to tell me. Her voice had been clear. Lucid. One of those rare good days where the fog lifted and she was actually her again.

I’d said I’d visit tomorrow. That I was busy painting but I’d come tomorrow. I thought whatever she needed to tell me could wait one more day.

“Delia.” Axel’s hands were on my face. Warm. Gentle. “Talk to me. What happened?”

I was already moving—grabbing clothes, pulling them on with hands that wouldn’t cooperate. My shirt was inside out. I didn’t care. My mother was in the hospital and I’d been here having the best sex of my life while she?—

“What’s happening?” Axel was up now, getting dressed faster than I was. “Is it your mom?”

“She collapsed. Daniel says I need to come now.” My voice cracked on the last word.

“Okay. I’m driving you.”

I didn’t argue. I could barely think beyond the fact that my mother was dying.

The drive to the hospital happened in fragments. Traffic lights that lasted forever. Cars moving too slowly. Axel’s hand reaching for mine and me pulling away because if he touched me I’d break and I couldn’t break yet. Not yet.

At the hospital, Daniel met us outside her room, looking like he’d aged ten years since the last dinner. His scrubs were wrinkled. His eyes were red. His hands were shaking slightly even though he’d shoved them in his pockets to hide it.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She fell. Hit her head on the kitchen counter. There’s internal bleeding they can’t control. Too much damage. Her body’s shutting down.”