Chapter 3

With that, David hung up without a second thought.

I was still burning with anger, about to call him back, when it suddenly dawned on me: he thought it was my own mom who was in trouble.

After what felt like ages, Helen was finally wheeled out. The face that was always so mean and snarky was now totally stiff, not a hint of her usual attitude. Every breath she took made drool string down from the corner of her mouth.

The doctor stood by the bed and delivered the verdict.

He said, "She suffered a brain hemorrhage. Her life was barely saved, but because she wasn't brought in quickly enough, there's a strong chance she'll have lasting complications, most likely paralysis or loss of speech.

"In short, she'll need ongoing, attentive care for the foreseeable future."

After thanking the doctor, I called David again right in front of Helen. "David, the doctor just said Mom's going to be paralyzed for the rest of her life because she wasn't brought in fast enough."

David's voice came through loud and clear on speakerphone. "She's still alive, isn't she? Why are you making such a fuss? I'll say it one more time. This has nothing to do with Cathy. Bad luck is no one's fault."

"Mom's paralyzed. What's she supposed to do now? Someone's gotta look after her, and rehab's gonna cost a ton."

"Weren't you just raising hell about getting a divorce a few days ago? Now something goes wrong, and you wanna stick this on me? Get real. I'm not gonna be stuck with this dead weight!" David cut off the call again.

Helen lay there, having heard every word, unable to move. She tried to speak, but couldn't get a single word out. Her eyes practically shot flames of rage.

"Since we're family by marriage, I'll cover your hospital deposit and get you a caregiver. I'll go tell your beloved son face-to-face to come look after you," I said.

Seeing the crazed, furious look in Helen's eyes, I just felt empty inside. With my own mom still waiting for me at home, I turned and walked out.

David and I met in college; he'd been my whole world back then. A year ago, I found a lipstick in the passenger seat of David's car. He chuckled and brushed it off, saying, "Probably left by a colleague when I drove them to a seminar."

Six months back, I noticed a lipstick stain on his shirt collar. David barely blinked and said flatly, "I just caught a friend who was about to trip, that's all."

Later on, I caught a heavy scent of perfume clinging to his clothes. David gave me a frosty glare and snapped, "Stop being so paranoid."

I knew the truth deep down, but I just couldn't bring myself to accept it. I just couldn't believe he'd be like that.

Back in college, we were both flat broke. Whenever we went out, all we could afford was one hot dog to share, but he'd always let me have all the best bits.

After I graduated and started working, he was still struggling through grad school with barely a dime to his name. Even then, he'd somehow scrape together a birthday gift for me; he'd promise that once he finished his degree, he'd build a life for us.

When he finally graduated and got a job, things were a little better, but his family's mess still left him broke all the time.

That was the first time I ever saw him completely fall apart in front of me. He cried like his whole world had just collapsed. He kept saying he was worthless, that he couldn't give me a real home. And if I wanted to leave him, he wouldn't blame me.

I dragged him to the real estate office and put his name on the house I'd bought before we got married. He just cried his eyes out, totally ashamed, and swore he'd treat me right for the rest of his life.