[Michael's POV ]
I shoved the door harder than I intended, a groan escaping my throat as I slumped onto the bed.
God, I hated this—hated the way their faces lingered in my head, Mum's eyes glossy with unshed tears and hurt, Joey's jaw clenched as if it was taking everything in him not to come at me. The image stuck like a thorn under my skin, impossible to shake.
"I'm such an idiot," I muttered to myself, because that was the truth. I'd made a huge mess of everything. I could have listened—but no—my thick head didn't want to listen.
I caused more pain to Mum. I made a woman who was already in a lot of pain almost cry—hell, she might already be crying. And I'm the reason. I hurt her.
Another groan slipped through my mouth, frustration and guilt churning in my gut. I pressed my palms harder into my eyes.
Letting my mind wander, I found myself dragged back—back to the day our lives fell apart. The memory rose uninvited, sharp and unrelenting, as if it had just happened yesterday.
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Last year: 20/07/2021
Everything was normal. There were no signs. Or maybe… maybe she was just really good at hiding it. The thought still gnawed at me. One moment Mum was washing the dishes, humming under her breath like she always did, and the next… the next she was lying limp on the floor.
It wasn't the glass breaking that shook me, it was the sound of my mother's body hitting the floor as if lifeless.
*clang*thud.*
"Mum?, Mum!!" I cried out wrapping my arms around her.
"Michael! What's going —" Joey didn't finish his sentence, reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone, immediately dialling 911.
"Yes— my mum just fainted." She's breathing.... she's not waking up, but please — send someone fast," Joey said over the phone.
By the time the paramedics arrived, she was groggy but insisting she was fine. I watched helplessly as they checked her vitals, exchanged a glance, and said, "We'd like to run some tests at the hospital, just to be safe."
The hours in the hospital blurred. Blood tests, scans, waiting. Finally, a doctor appeared, clipboard in hand.
Dad was pacing around the room like a caged animal locked. He left work immediately after I texted him that Mum had fainted and was in the hospital.
"Her fainting may have been caused by anaemia," the doctor said carefully. "But we've also seen some abnormalities in her blood work. We need to investigate further."
"Abnormalities?" I asked, my stomach twisting.
"What kind?" Dad asked, grimacing, his eyes narrowing as he studied Mum. His voice had that edge it always did when he was trying not to panic—but failing.
"It's too early to tell,"he admitted. "It could be something minor, but we need additional scans and possibly a biopsy. For now, she should rest."
Dad nodded, Joey was quiet and me— I was trying to hold myself together. Because she wasn't sick, and was never tired....
No— it wasn't that she was never tired. She just… never looked tired or sick. Every day she carried on like nothing was wrong, smiling, humming, making sure everything else ran smoothly. I never suspected how close we were to this breaking point.
Later, helping her back home, she tried to laugh it off. "See? Just stress. Nothing to worry about."
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But something in my gut told me this was just the beginning.
The beginning everything went downhill.
She was skipping meals, visibly tired and was starting to look really sick which wasn't a good sign.
The next week, the bad feeling in my gut was confirmed.