Wrapped Around Her Finger

R

h the faint aroma of flowers-lilies, maybe, left by one of her visitors, probably my siblings. My mother's room is bathed in the soft glo

n crisp white hospital pillows. Her cheekbones are stark against her pale skin, her arms thin and

, her voice weaker but s

e her bed, taking her hand. Her skin feels cool,

my voice deliberately light, though the

comforting and heartbreaking. "Sti

hand. "That'

espite her condition. "You've lost weight," she says, her tone

se, but the words don't l

usiness world-until glioblastoma robbed her of that. Even now, as she lies in thi

?" she asks, alway

her. "Still afloat, still thriving

fool me, Orion. You're burning the candle at both ends. You need to step back, bre

und that never quite healed. Toria was beautiful, ambitious, and-most importantly-calc

to talk about

n't been the same since. And Orion... you dese

prising strength. "Don't fight me on this. You're not get

voice hoarse. "Do

that cuts deeper than any words. "I'm not afra

ise, though the

nd changes the subject. "So, t

nstead, I shake my head. "No one," I say automatically,

ll I can't quite explain. I barely know her, but she lingers in my thoughts like a m

says, snapping me

ha

accuses, her weak smi

protest, thoug

r tone triumphant despite

say quickly,

ment, she looks like herself again. "Oh, Orion

ortable. Because she's not wrong. It has been years-more than a decade, in

e my mother's hospital bed, thin

ing," my mother says, h

I say withou

ure. You deserve to be happy, Orion. Don'

rd, and lean forward

promise, and for the firs

way, my favorite nurse, Mary was here earlier. She's a sweetheart, kee

The nurse? You've bee

harpness returns. "You've been too focused on work to notice,

my voice colder t

not missing the change in t

of my older brother. I thought she won'

o much pride between you. It's time

he flowers. "I'll think about it," I

go and get some rest. An

lingering on hers for a moment befor

ntly. "And Orion... don't let

tly, even though I'm

ad. My apartment feels unusually empty tonight. After drying off, I settle into the kitchen and cook a quick meal-noodles

t care. I get into the car, start the engine, and drive aimlessly. The familiar hum of the tires on the asphalt does lit