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Compassion

“Emily, Blake is here to see you,” Linda announced when she opened the doctor’s room where I was sitting and drowning in my sorrows.

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I told him that, but he said he’s not leaving till you come out.” I sigh in frustration, anger, or sadness. Either of them is making me feel sick.

I stood up and walked to the front desk, where he was waiting. His eyes were bloodshot and looked like a total mess.

“What do you want?” he stood up straight when he saw me, dragging his hands through his messy hair.

“Thank you for taking care of my mother,” he said without apologising.

“How is she?” I asked, folding my arms.

“In rehab. I booked her in this morning.”

“Good.” I turned around and walked back to the Ed.

“So that’s it?” he yells afterwards. I stop dead in my tracks trying to b

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