Chapter Two
Corinne
“Why aren’t you dating anyone yet?” Mauve asked, adjusting the oxygen tubes that rested just below her nostrils.
We’d had this conversation too many times, and it always ended the same way—with me feeling angry at her for prying, and then later guilt over getting mad at an old, sick woman who I knew meant well. It was a ridiculous cycle I hoped to one day break. “You know I can’t do that.”
“The hell you can’t,” she scoffed.
I rolled my eyes, and stood to help her adjust the knob on the side of her oxygen tank. Mauve was the closest thing I had to a mother, and while I loved her to pieces, when she pried into my personal life, part of me wanted to strangle her with those oxygen tubes.
Mauve pursed her lips, waiting for me to continue the same conversation we’d had
