I've always had shitty luck when it comes to motherhood.

It wasn't enough that my birth mother abandoned me the literal day I was born. No. I had to struggle with infertility for four years. It was ironic in so many ways. My birth mother couldn't wait to be rid of me so I promised myself I would never abandon my child, only to be met with failed pregnancy after failed pregnancy.

I've wanted to be a mother all my life. When I married Mason at the ripe age of twenty-four, I wanted to get pregnant right away. He was pushing on thirty-four so he agreed without hesitation. I remember thinking it was so ideal that the two of us worked like that. Fuck the ten year age gap. I knew he was meant for me.

But a small part of me questioned it when we tried for months and months. Those months turned into a year. Then two years. IVF's and hormonal treatments dragged into year three. It tore our marriage apart and put us to the test. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe I was never meant to be a mother. What if the universe knew I'd abandon my child just like my birth mother abandoned me?

I should have hated motherhood. I should have tried to stay away from it altogether given my luck. But the one and only thing that always kept me going was my adoptive mother.

She taught me that being a mother doesn't come down to blood. She taught me that our pasts don't define us or who we are. She taught me that if you are abandoned, it's only because someone else was always meant to take that place. She has always been my mother and she always will be. Emily.

I watch her now with my heart stuck in my throat. In just one month, she went from thriving and making progress...to this.

In one month the cancer attacked her body like a hungry predator. The breast cancer spread to her lungs and lymph nodes and took such a strong hold that the treatment could be considered pathetic. Nothing is working. Nothing is helping. She's been fighting so hard and getting absolutely nowhere. Her frame has shrunk down, collarbone protruding and cheeks hollow. She's lost all her hair, constantly sporting a bandana. She's so weak she can barely stay awake for more than half an hour every so often. We're losing her. I'm losing the only mother I ever had when I'm just a month away from becoming one myself.

So yeah, shitty luck with motherhood.

It's hard not to be angry. It's hard not to question if something is wrong with you and that maybe you deserve all this. It's hard to look on the bright side when all that's waiting ahead is a dark road as your only way out. They all promise sunshine is on the other side but what if the darkness swallows you whole before you get there? What if you become part of it and drag everyone else down with you? What if the people who have been consumed by the darkness promise you the sun just so they can snatch you up and take you with them?

I used to believe the doctors when they told me to have hope. I believed it when they said I would get pregnant and I believed it when they promised me my mother wouldn't die. I cup my pregnant stomach, wondering if I was only allowed to have one or the other. And if that's the case, would Mom be okay if I didn't get pregnant?

It's a dark thought but all of my thoughts have been dark lately. It's hard not to feel that way so I've simply stopped fighting it. I've let it snatch me up, just like they wanted. I just hope I won't do the same to someone else.

I look up when I hear the door to Mom's room open. Dad walks in carrying two styrofoam cups with steam coming out of them. I'm tempted to ask if both are for him. He looks like he's hanging by a thread. Dad has always been handsome with his rugged looks and even more rugged attitude. Age has only made him better but these days he looks defeated. Still handsome, but defeated.

"Hey, baby girl," He croaks. Lately that's what his voice sounds like. He thinks we can't tell but we know it's because the few moments he's alone, he spends crying. I know he's trying to be strong for us and I know he hasn't been the same father since Mom was diagnosed but I don't fault him.

If there's anyone that's been through hell and back, it's Dad. First my birth mother walked out on him when he was only twenty-one years old and he had to raise me by himself. Then my even shittier grandparents decided to stop being parents and abandon my father. They were drug addicts and alcoholics and Dad was left to raise me and his younger brother on his own. I briefly remember Uncle Samuel, some flashes of him that I can never tell are real or not. All I remember is the day Dad obliterated to pieces when Uncle Sam died in a car crash, who was only fourteen-years-old at the time. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Down the road, Dad's parents OD'd years after he hadn't heard from them. He never got his closure or got to make his peace. Some time after that one of his good friends died while saving Mom from a psychotic asshole who was obsessed with her and kidnapped her. I don't remember Lucas either but Mom wouldn't be alive without him so they named their son after him. Mom and Dad have told us stories about Lucas and everything he did for them. Uncle Sam, too. Lucas has always known the weight his name carries.

And now this is happening with Mom. If anyone knows my father, they know he's a tough man that acts like an asshole. He pushes people away, fights anyone who tries to get close, and makes no apologies. And who could blame him? My father is not a people person but it's a loss to all those people because they have no idea how strong he is. If I were him, I don't think I'd even be standing on my own two feet. His world is the darkest I've witnessed and yet he's never given up on the people he loves. He never gave up on me when he had to raise me alone. He never gave up on Lucas when he pushed his father away and acted out. He's never given up on Mom, in all the years that I've watched him love her like she's his lifeline.

"How're you doing, Dad?" I ask when he sits down beside me, my tone as calm as I can make it. On the inside I'm falling apart but I know it's nothing compared to him. I think he needs me more than I need him right now.

"I don't know." His whispered admission tells me everything. Dad won't ever admit when he's been knocked down. I think he's lost all his fight and it makes my throat lodge painfully. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this or make her better. I can't do anything except watch her go through this. I've never felt so fucking hopeless."

"You're here," I remind him and lean my head on his shoulder. "You haven't left this hospital for a month except to shower and eat. You've been sleeping in a chair, always by her side, so that she isn't alone. That's not doing nothing."

"But what good is it if she's getting worse?" He covers his face with his hands, pulling in a heavy breath. "I can't fix her. I can't take her cancer away. I can't keep her alive."

"Daddy," I whisper, tears falling from my eyes when a sob tears out of him.

"She's dying," He sounds so broken that I flinch in pain. "My wife is dying. What am I going to do without her? She's the only woman who's ever stood by my side. She's the only woman I've ever loved. I can't lose her, Lizzie. I'll die right with her."

"Don't say that," I hug him tighter, burying my face in his shoulder when my own sobs get the better of me. But God, I can't blame him. All his life, Dad has lost. I know this is the last straw for him.

"What do I do?" He lifts his head. He looks like a lost child and my heart cracks more, if possible. The pain in his eyes is so raw that it's hard not to look away from him. I don't know if I can do this much longer. "I'm asking because I don't know anymore. What do I do? If she dies...what do I do?"

"I don't know," I sounds as hopeless as I feel. "But we have to be there for her. We have to make sure she doesn't feel alone. We have to show her we'll be strong so she can leave peacefully. We can't cause her more pain than she's already in."

"Fuck," He rasps. He sits up straight, staring at Mom like she's about to disappear any second now. "I can't believe this is happening. One month ago everything was fine. You saw her, right? You saw how much energy she had and how strong she felt. How did this happen? How did we get here?"

"I don't know," I repeat. He isn't asking me anything I haven't already asked myself. I clutch his bicep and while I normally feel his strength, there's no hint of it there now. He even feels defeated. "We're going to get through this. I'm here for you, okay? Just don't give up."

His eyes fall shut. I don't miss how he doesn't answer me. All I can do is sit there and hold him while he crumbles again, curled over from the force of his sobs like he can't hold on anymore. I lay my head on his back and rub his arms, anything to make him feel even a little better but I know my efforts are in vain. He's right — nothing can fix this.

Enough time passes that our coffee is bitterly cold. Dad's slumped in his chair from exhaustion, his eyes puffy and heavy-lidded. It's been a long day. Mom hasn't woken up since yesterday so he's been trying to stay awake in case she wakes up too. It's obvious he needs to sleep.

"Rest for a while," I urge. "I promise to wake you up if something changes."

"I can't," He mumbles even though he's already half-asleep. He's fighting like hell to stay conscious. "What if...what if she dies while I'm asleep?"

God, I can't take this. I never knew grief could be so strong that you could feel like you're dying right along with the person you're about to lose. I'm starting to understand how grief kills.

"She won't." It's a promise I shouldn't be making. I don't know what's going to happen but I have to tell Dad what he needs to hear. "Just rest for half an hour. I'll wake you up, okay?"

He looks at me, then back at Mom, and frowns. "Only half an hour. Not longer."

"Okay," I nod, knowing good and well he needs more rest than that and that I'll probably give it to him. He's going to drop otherwise.

"I'm gonna lie down with her." His words are practically slurred with exhaustion.

I help him stand up and he crawls onto the hospital bed. It's big enough for the two of them because that's what Dad paid for so he lies next to her, throwing an arm around her waist. Both of us watch her like we're waiting for a reaction but there's nothing. Just stillness as Mom's chest rises and falls slightly, our only consolation that she's still alive. Dad lifts a hand, cupping her face and resting his forehead to her temple.

"I love you, baby," He whispers, closing his eyes. "So much. Please don't leave me."

I can't take anymore. I cover my mouth to hold back another sob and quickly leave the room, closing it behind me. Yet it does nothing to lessen how much pain I'm in. I don't know if I can make it through this. I don't.

"Hey." Mason stands up from his chair and walks over to me, his face stoic and serious as always. "Come sit, baby. I don't want you to be on your feet for too long."

I nod wordlessly, letting him take my hand and helping me into the seat he was just in. He crouches down in front of me, eyes tender despite his naturally tough features.

"How's my girl?" He whispers.

I shake my head. "I can't do this, Mason. I can't make it through losing her."

"Maybe you won't," He offers, frowning. "Things could still turn around..."

He trails off at whatever expression is on my face. I wonder if I look as grim as I feel. "I know a person's life is unpredictable but sometimes the outcome is obvious. The doctors have talked to us about her progress. We can see for ourselves what's happening to her. I want nothing more than to have hope but we'd only be kidding ourselves. She doesn't have much time left."

"I'm sorry." He takes my hands in his and raises them to his mouth, kissing them softly. "I'm so sorry, baby. I wish I could do more."

"You must be sick of me," I laugh under my breath but there's no humour. Mason's brows come together.

"Why would you say that?"

"I know it hasn't been easy being with me. Your company almost fell apart from the scandal of us dating. I know Dad didn't make it easy on you either when he found out I was with a man ten years older than me. Then the infertility and you wanted to be a father so badly. Now we're finally having a baby and I've been an absolute mess the whole pregnancy. God, I'm giving myself a headache."

"Stop," He demands. He cups my face and stares at me with those whiskey eyes that stole my breath the first time I laid eyes on them seven years ago. "If I had to go back, I would choose you all over again. I'll always choose you. You and I both know how hard unconventional love is and we fought for it equally. I'm not saying it's been smooth sailing but fuck that. As long as you're the destination, I'll take whatever journey leads me to you."

This time my laugh is more genuine, albeit accompanied by a sob. I lean forward to capture his lips and he kisses me back, his hand sliding into my hair and holding me close. His touch offers me the kind of comfort where I actually feel okay for a moment. Just a moment.

When I pull away, new tears have gathered in my eyes. My voice is hoarse, so quiet it's barely audible. "I want her to see our baby. She was so excited for me when I finally got pregnant. She can't leave before she meets our baby, Mase. She can't."

"I know," He whispers back. He places his hand on my stomach, stroking it gently. The baby immediately reacts, kicking where his hands are and recognizing him. Mason smiles softly, kissing my stomach before setting his forehead on it. "This is our miracle baby, Elizabeth. Maybe it'll give us one more miracle."

"Maybe," I agree, threading my hands through his hair. My throat tightens. "And if she doesn't get to meet it?"

He glances up at me, kissing my stomach again. "I don't know, Liz. But I'd like to think she'll meet our baby in heaven. She'll get that honour even if we didn't."

My tears fall fast and hard, knowing he's referring to my miscarriage. The thought is oddly calming and I nod, hugging him close again.

"I love you," I croak.

His grip on me tightens and for a moment I feel wetness where his face lays on my belly. My heart rips apart when I realize my husband is crying. That's just the effect Mom has. Everyone who's met her loves her and Mason has always loved Mom deeply. She rooted for him when everyone else was convinced him and I were making a mistake being together. She stood by him, by us, from the very beginning.

"I love you," He whispers back. "I can't promise everything will be okay but I can promise that you'll have me."

"I know." Because I do.

He pulls away, clearing his throat and not quite meeting my eyes. "You should go see if your brothers are okay. They came in a few minutes ago."

I glance up and immediately spot Lucas and Landon. They look as exhausted and broken as I feel and my own pain increases tenfold. My boys. My two, rough and tough brothers who I love more than anything.

Mason helps me stand up from my chair and I go over to them, taking the seat beside them. Landon manages a small smile. Lucas doesn't shift his eyes from his hands.

He's pulled away from his family even more this month, if possible. He's never truly been the same since Eli was shot in front of him and died in his arms. He's always been the darker one, the one that's hard to understand and get through. I think Mom was the only person in his life he never pushed away and now he's losing her too. It's no wonder he doesn't get close to anyone. He doesn't trust easy but after this, he won't trust at all.

"Did you eat, bubba?" I stroke his hair away from his face. It's gotten longer and he could use a haircut.

"No," He mutters. "Not hungry."

I meet Landon's eyes, both of us frowning. This is hard for everyone but it's especially hard on Dad and Lucas. They're just wired differently. They seem heartless but the truth is they love so deeply, you have to wonder where it even ends. Once you earn their love and trust it's for life. Once you get past their walls they'll do everything to keep you there. Except they can't do anything about this and we can all see how it's destroying them from the inside out.

"You have to eat, Lucas." I look over his frame. My brother is naturally tall and muscled but he looks leaner now, like the life has been sucked out of him. "Please, honey. You didn't eat yesterday either."

"Wasn't hungry yesterday," He shrugs.

I swallow hard and look at Landon again. I meet his eyes and mouth "Olivia?"

He points to his watch and lifts five fingers. I nod. Olivia seems to be the only one Lucas will listen to these days. It was unexpected. I think we all expected him to freak out and push her away but he just pulled her closer. I've never seen my brother so dependant on anyone else. I'm just glad it's Olivia because she's always been the one who's accepted him, flaws and all. She gets him and Lucas needs that, now more than ever.

"Did she wake up?" Landon asks hopefully, after a minute of silence.

"Not yet, squirt," I shake my head sadly. He deflates again, nodding and leaning back against the chair. "It shouldn't be too long now. I'm sure she'll—"

"Don't make promises," Lucas cuts in. "Just don't. Hurts more to have a promise taken away than to not get one at all."

He stands up abruptly and walks away, anger radiating off of him in waves. I don't bother going after him. He needs his space.

"Lizzie?" Landon asks quietly. There's tears in his eyes. He always tries to put on a brave face in front of Lucas, to be tough like his big brother, but he allows himself to crumble around me. "Mom is going to die, isn't she?"

I can feel myself being ripped open. I reach my arms out, silently gesturing. "Come here, baby."

He sniffs, getting up to sit on the chair beside me. When he buries his face in my shoulder, his sobs get the best of him and he cries. Wails. So loudly that the rest of the hall becomes hushed with grief when people can't help but watch him break down. I hug him tightly and rock him like Mom would. I know I'm not her but the truth is, I might have to be.

"I don't know," I whisper hoarsely, remembering Lucas' words. He's right—no more promises. "I don't know, honey. I wish I had the answers."

His breath catches, another sob tearing out of him. "I wish I could save her."

I lean my head down on his and feel the last of my strength leave my body. Defeat seizes me. "Me too."

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A/N

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