The steady beep of the heartbeat monitor was comforting. It meant she was still here. She was still alive. And yet, the wheeze of her breath with each inhale and the paleness of her skin only fed the well of panic within me. Mum had always seemed all powerful – even as her memories were leeched away one by one. Yet, fate was trying its damn hardest to remind me that she was just as human as the rest of us.

Hovering just inside the curtains surrounding Mum's bed, my nails bit into my legs through my work trousers. The pain of the pinch kept me grounded even if it seemed like I could drown.

My chest was tight. My head spinning as I fought against the panic circling through my mind. It was too much. This was the reality I hadn't wanted to see. Not now. Not ever.

The smell of disinfectant and something I could only describe as sickness surrounded me. Flooding my nose and overwhelming all of my senses, there was no escape. I could even taste it.

Richie's hand slipped into mine. His touch was warm. It was almost burning hot around my hands which were cold as if they had been submerged in ice. I squeezed his hand in silence. My gaze was locked on the hospital bed and there was no looking away. I wasn't sure I could have spoken then if I had tried.

Instead, we stood in silence as my throat worked to clear the imaginary obstruction.

She just looked fragile – like she would break at the lightest of touches.

I shivered. Gently, Richie tugged me closer, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. It held back the numbness threatening to take over. Only just. My fingers flexed around his.

"There's so many wires." I croaked out the words, my eyes blinking rapidly against the wave of tears threatening to fall.

All of this was said from several feet away. There was no attempt to close the distance. No attempt to touch her.

Though she looked fragile, somehow I knew I would be the one to break if I got too close.

I couldn't break now. Not with Richie here. I had already shown him my weaknesses before. I couldn't do it again. I had to be strong. Even if I had never felt weaker in my life, my heart ripped open and vulnerable for all to see.

Richie did nothing to fill the air between us. Only the music of the machines and Mum's rasping breaths filled the room. Or could they be mine? I was certainly finding it hard to breathe. Each inhale was taking a concentrated effort.

"I don't know what I will do without her." I gasped, my fingers tightening around Richie's. It was as if he would leave in a moment if I let him go so I just held on tighter.

He didn't complain. Instead, his thumb rubbed in soothing circles on the back of my hand.

After what seemed an eternity, I stepped closer to Mum's bed. Refusing to release him just yet, I tugged Richie along with me. He was my life raft and I was unwilling to let go. Not now. I didn't need him, of course. His hand was just keeping mine warm.

Even I didn't believe that.

I stopped at her side, my hand coming to rest on the rail beside her. Mum's eyes were closed, her breath continuing to rattle with each juddering rise and fall of her chest. She looked frail. Her skin papery and thin as she lay there, surrounded by the scratchy hospital sheets she would hate.

Reaching out my free hand, I brushed the grey hairs from her face before pressing a kiss to her warm brow. As I pulled away, I noted the slight bluish tinge her lips. The way that her skin almost hung off of her cheek bones giving her a gaunt appearance. She had aged a decade in less than a week. The illness was taking a heavy toll on a body and there seemed to be no stopping it.

"Mum, you're going to be fine. Okay?" I murmured, tugging the blanket up higher to preserve her warmth.

She didn't even twitch. She just continued her slow labouring breaths.

It took everything in me not to pull her bodily up from the bed and hold her close. To hug her tightly just one last time. Because, in truth, I had a feeling that time had already passed. Now, I could only wrap my hand gently around hers from behind a myriad of wires and machines.

A fresh lance of pain speared through my chest. My eyes squeezed closed as tears began to well. It was too much. My heart felt as if it had been grabbed in a fist and twisted, so real was the fear.

In all of my years, I had never seen her like this. I had never seen her this unwell – this vulnerable.

I couldn't say out loud but, deep inside, I knew. The far off ending, which had always seemed so distant, was suddenly much closer.

My hand rested on her arm, a small part of her that wasn't covered in wires. Her skin was cool beneath my touch. Richie's fingers flexed around my other hand, a reminder that he was still there. He was still at my side.

"Thank you for being here," I murmured, dragging my eyes up to meet his. Without words, I tried to convey how grateful I was because there was no putting it into sentences. There was no way I could.

"You're welcome," He murmured, nodding slightly in response.

With a sigh, I rested my forehead on his shoulder. My eyes briefly fluttered shut as I took a steadying breath. And then, unable to stop myself, I confessed. "I don't know who I am without her."

His fingers flexed around mine. He drew in a breath as if to say something. I wanted him to say something. I wanted him to tell me who I was because I sure as hell didn't know.

Instead, he simply rested his cheek against the top of my head, his shoulder rising and falling in time with his breathing. I focused on that. Focused on the soothing rhythm of his breath and tried to tune out the rattling one beside me.

"She'd tell me to stop being silly if she could." I murmured, my eyes peeling open and staring resolutely at the fabric of his jacket. "She would tell me to pull my socks up and get on with it. I just don't know how."

"You don't have to do it alone, you know." Richie commented, his free hand coming up to tuck a stand of hair behind my ear. "Not everything has to be a battle that you wage alone."

My shoulders slumped. Could he be right? It would be so good to lean on someone else for once. To have someone else be strong for me because I was so fucking tired of being strong. I was tired of having to know all of the answers when in truth I had none. I was making up as I blundered along and hoped no one would get hurt in the process.

But who was that helping?

It certainly wasn't me.

Turning my head, my eyes settled upon my mum once more and a bone deep exhaustion settled into my body. I was weak. Too weak to be the person she needed me to be. She was fighting for her life, with each raspy breath, and I was barely keeping it together.

"Maybe you should call that sister you mentioned." Richie offered in whisper. "She should-."

I shook my head. "She won't come. I begged her to visit before it was too late but she refused."

"This might make her change her mind." He said softly. "It's one thing to refuse when you know you still have plenty of time. This might give her the prompt she needs."

I swallowed. Deep down, I knew she wouldn't come. Yet, if the roles were reversed, would I want her to take that chance away? The thought of missing the chance to say goodbye and make peace.

"Okay, I'll give her a call."

"I'll give you some space." Richie murmured, attempting to pull away but I held on tight.

"Please. Don't go." I paused, hating what I was about to admit. "I don't want to be alone."

Richie nodded. "I'll just go and grab you some water and see if I can find someone to give you an update. You make the call and I'll be back before you know it."

I swallowed. It was within me to beg him to stay. To ask him to hold my hand as I made the call. Instead, I pressed my lips and nodded my head, allowing my hand to peel away from him. He wasn't my boyfriend. He wasn't really my anything. He had no duty to me and my tears.

He stepped back, paused to check I was okay, before retreating out the door.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I ran my tongue over my teeth. Despite the mints Lindsey had given me on my way out of the office, my mouth still had the horrible tang of bile. Only a tube of fluoride and a good brushing would take it away. I tried not to think about how close I had been to Richie with the smell of vomit still on my breath.

My fingers moved on autopilot as I dialled my sister's phone number. My heart thundered with each ring, my palm growing clammy around the phone. I couldn't decide if I wanted her to answer the phone or not. If she answered, she could disappoint me yet again. As she had for years. But if she didn't, I would have to live with the guilt that she may not get the change to say goodbye.

"Hello?"

My breath hissed thought my teeth at Diane's familiar voice.

"Hello? Rosie."

"Diane.," I replied finally, breathing her name out in relief. "It's mum."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Is she?"

"No!" I hastily replied, hating that her relief should be short lived. "No, but it's bad. Really bad."

"I -."

"Diane, I think you really need to come and see her. If I was in your shoes, I would regret it if I didn't."

"I've got the kids." Diane replied, as if that was an explanation. 

And perhaps it was. I didn't have anyone relying on me. 

Not anymore.

"That's okay. I'm sure she would understand. I will keep you updated."

"Wait," Diane hastily cut in before I could end the call. "I'll be there. It will take me a few hours but I'll be there."

I nodded my head. My fingers loosened their death grip around the phone.

Before I could hang up, an angry beeping cut through the air. My mum gasped and wheezed as she fought for breath. I could also see the desperation which would have been in her eyes if she were awake. Instead, her back bowed and her limbs twitched as she gasped like a fish out of water.

"Oh god," I murmured, the phone still pressed to my ear.

Diane was shouting down the phone line but I couldn't register the words. Instead, I was frozen in terror as my mum's breaths rasped harsher with each second that passed.

A nurse rushed past me, her fingers pressing a button beside the bed before she lowered the bed down. An intercom blared overhead. More bodies filled the confined space. And still, I stood there in the middle of it all, phone pressed to my ear, my feet glued to the ground.

Horror flooded through my body as they roughly manhandled my mum this way and that. It was as if she were a doll. She gave no resistance to the hands touching her. .

Warm and strong hands settled on my arms. They gently tugged me backwards. I wasn't to fight but I didn't have the strength.  

My feet unstuck from the floor, allowing me to be guided from the room. Yet, my heart remained behind.

My phone was gently prised from my fingers. Richie spoke quietly to my sister, his voice brushing over me but the words not even registering. Instead, all of my thoughts were upon the scene on the other side of the door.

What if this was it? What if I was really losing her?