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JOSH – MONDAY MORNING
Mondays were always the worst. Asha was unusually grumpy, the traffic was a nightmare, and I felt like I hadn’t gotten more than three hours of solid sleep. Still, we made it to school on time.
As I walked through the brightly decorated hallways, I kept my head low, trying to avoid any unnecessary interaction with her.
I dropped Asha off at her classroom, kneeling down to smooth her hair and kiss her.
I turned to leave, breathing a small sigh of relief as I thought I’d escaped unnoticed. But just as I reached the door, I walked straight into someone.
“Whoa!” Vivian exclaimed, stumbling back slightly before regaining her balance.
“Sorry,” I muttered, looking down at her.
Her hazel eyes blinked up at me, and she gave a small, awkward smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck, suddenly feeling about as smooth as a teenager.
We both chuckled nervously and for a moment, it was just us standing there in very uncomfortable silence.
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“Well,” I said finally, pointing vaguely toward the hallway. “See ya.”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding and adjusting her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “See ya.”
I turned and walked briskly down the hall, feeling her eyes on my back until I was out of sight.
By the time I got to my car, my heart was still racing, though I couldn’t figure out why. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I slammed my hands on the steering wheel.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I muttered, my voice echoing in the empty car.
I dragged my hands down my face, trying to pull myself together. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her before. She was just Asha’s teacher. That was it. So why the hell did I act like that?
My phone rang, cutting through my self–deprecating thoughts. Without looking at the screen, I hit the answer button.
“Mr. Saunders?” The voice on the other end was calm, clinical.
I sat up straight, immediately recognizing Dr. Harrington’s tone. “Is–uh, is it a good time to talk?”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine. Is Laura–Is she okay?”
“Well,” Dr. Harrington started, her tone steady yet lacking reassurance, “the purpose of my call is to address that we haven’t received feedback about Laura’s end–of–life wishes. I want to assure you that her condition remains unchanged. She
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is stable and has enough brain function to breathe
independently. The recent placement of the feeding tube was successful and without issues. However, we require your. decisions documented in case of any unforeseen
complications.”
The air in the car felt thinner, and my chest tightened as though someone had wrapped a vice around my ribs. My breaths came faster, shorter.
“I–uh, yes. I understand. I’ll…” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” Dr. Harrington replied. “Take your time, Mr. Saunders. We’re here if you have any questions.”
“Thanks,” I murmured before ending the call.
I set the phone down and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, forcing myself to focus on breathing. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. My vision blurred for a moment, but I blinked it away.
A knock on the driver’s side window startled me, making me jump. I turned my head sharply to see Vivian standing there, holding something in her hand.
I blinked, rolling the window down.
“Hi,” she said, her voice softer this time. She held up my wallet. “This must’ve fallen out when you dropped Asha off.”
I stared at the wallet, then back at her, my thoughts still jumbled. “Thanks,” I said, taking it from her.
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Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t think. The words just came out. “No.”
Her expression softened, and to my surprise, she reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. It was a light touch, but it grounded me, pulling me out of the haze of my spiraling thoughts.
“If you want to talk about it,” she said gently, “I could really use a conversation where someone across from me can string a sentence together that actually makes sense.”
My mouth twitched, but I couldn’t quite muster a smile. I just stared at her, the weight in my chest feeling slightly less suffocating in her presence.
“Thanks,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
She gave my shoulder a small squeeze before stepping back. “Have a good… well, better day.”
I nodded, watching her walk away as she disappeared into the school building.
For a long moment, I just sat there, staring at the wallet in my hand. Then, I leaned back in my seat, letting out a long, shaky breath.
I wasn’t okay. But maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to be.
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