YURI

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mom demanded to leave the hospital, said she wanted to spend her last days with all of us, and she didn't leave room for argument so no one said anything on the condition that the hospital assign her a nurse that she agreed to.

I still had classes to attend, and Mom, being Mom, insisted that life had to keep moving. She demanded that everyone return to their routines, that things should go back to how they were before—like that was even possible.

Her request felt like asking the tide not to come in. Every morning I’d wake up with this heaviness in my chest, and every night I’d go to sleep with the same thought: she’s still sick… and nothing is the same.

At breakfast, she’d smile like nothing was wrong, asking me about lectures and professors, reminding me to eat more greens. But I could see the subtle way her hands trembled when she lifted her coffee cup, the faint shadows under her eyes no amount of makeup could hide.

Still, for her sake, I pretended too. I’d leave for campus, laugh when Margo sent me a ridiculous meme, nod along when a professor droned on … but my mind was always in that hospital room, next to her.

Every day after my classes, I rushed straight home to her. No detours, no coffee stops—just straight to the driveway, parking in record time, and heading inside.

Kirby and Danielle had already moved in. Kirby wanted to be close to Mom, to care for her in every possible way, and Danielle… well, her presence brought a kind of lightness that our house hadn’t felt in weeks. Seeing them there gave me a sense of relief. At least when I wasn’t home, Mom would be surrounded by people she loved—not just the nurse and an endless cycle of medications.

Sometimes I’d walk into the living room to find Kirby massaging Mom’s feet while Danielle read aloud from one of those fairytale novels Mom adored. Other times, they’d all be laughing at some inside joke I wasn’t around to hear, and for a moment, I’d feel that familiar pang—the ache of wanting to freeze time, to keep this warmth forever.

Even though the shadow of her illness hung over us, having them here made our home feel alive again.