Chapter 10

Joslyn couldn't seem to rid herself of that same immovable lump that remained ever present in her throat any time she visited the hospital. No matter how much she tried to swallow it down, it remained ever lodged there, choking her with the familiar heaviness in her chest.

For a moment, Joslyn sat completely still in the cab parked on the curb, staring out the window at the building that seemed to loom over her; a building that held the last thread of her sanity. If that thread were to snap, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

A sudden honk caused Joslyn to jerk in the seat as her head snapped towards the front, her gaze clashing with that of the cab driver through the rear-view mirror. He shot her a meaningful look as he spoke, “I haven't got all day, Miss.”

“Right. Sorry.” She quickly rummaged through her purse, handing him some money. “Keep the change. Thank you.”

“Will do,” he replied and zoomed right off the curb immediately she alighted from the car and shut the door.

With a sigh that echoed her mental exhaustion, Joslyn walked through the entrance doors, only to have her senses be immediately assaulted by the omnipresent pungent smell of disinfectants, medical equipment and medications.

She trudged past the reception area, taking the nearest elevator up to the floor she had visited countless times, enough that she could tell just how many wards occupied the space. She made a beeline for the nurse at the counter, who had become so familiar with Joslyn and her father that she asked her to go right in after giving Joslyn that familiar sympathetic look she hated so much.

Her feet dragged against the clean tiled floor as she moved, each of her steps labored and laced with hesitation as she neared that familiar room in what seemed to stretch for an eternity.

Every regular visit to the hospital, for Joslyn, was like walking a tightrope because she never knew what to expect when arriving at that one room—would she meet him still alive although he remained on life support; would her prayers be answered and he had finally awakened; or would he have given up on fighting for his life and she'd open the doors to reveal a concealed corpse on the bed?

Joslyn stalled for a moment outside the room, dreading finding out which answer lied beyond the sliding door and yet, she couldn't keep her curiosity at bay. So with a deep breath, she slid the door open and was immediately greeted by the familiar sight of her brother lying immobile in the hospital bed, put on a ventilator with an endotracheal tube trailing into his nostrils.

A tidal wave of relief crashed against Joslyn, making her tense shoulders sag from the force of it—her twin brother, Joshua, was still alive. But almost immediately after the fleeting relief came the stifling sense of hopelessness. Joshua was still alive and yet, he might as well not be.

Since the Canadian Navy recovered Joshua in his barely living state almost six months ago, where he’d been nearly drowned in the sea of Okhotsk in Russia, he had been in a coma.

Joshua had been diagnosed with brain ischemia (a condition where there was insufficient blood flow to the brain), caused by a prolonged brain hypoxia (where oxygen wasn't flowing well to the brain). The doctors speculated that Joshua had been submerged in the water for more than ten minutes and the chilling temperature of the sea only resulted in his brain’s neurons dying even quicker.

He was extremely lucky to have lasted till now, the doctor had said, commending Joshua and his survival spirit. He'd also told Joslyn and her father to prepare for the worst because even if he did survive this coma, there would be some irreparable neurological damage caused to him.

The reminiscence of it all made tears well up in Joslyn's eyes, painting them a bloodshot red as her gaze remained trained on her brother lying comatose on the hospital bed, sustained by the respirators. Mindlessly, she gravitated towards him in a trance, tentatively caressing his cheeks and sifting her fingers through his hair, which had the same ebony hue as Joslyn's hair before she'd dyed it silver.

“Hey, lil bro.” She addressed the unconscious man with a quivering laugh, remembering how he would always glare at her while arguing that the mere minutes she was older than him with were insignificant and then to annoy him, she would grab him by the neck, yank him down to her height and give him a noogie.

Joslyn chuckled at the memory; she missed it. She missed their childish banter, their pointless arguments and their ability to drive each other near insanity. She missed him. She missed their family being joyous and complete once again, and even though that could not be achieved any longer with their mother gone now, their family would never stand a chance at being complete again if they lost Joshua too.

The obvious strain in the relationship between Joslyn and her father was enough proof of this.

Trailing her hand down his arm, Joslyn grasped his fairly cold ones, being careful not to disrupt the pulse oximeter attached to his index finger as she squeezed lightly like she always did, in hopes that there would be a slight response but like every other time in the past six months, she obtained absolutely nothing. Joslyn's throat ached with the effort it took to swallow the sob that threatened to escape her lips.

She wanted her twin brother back. She wanted Joshua back. And she told him exactly that.

“Josh, please, you can't leave me here like this. You can't abandon me like this. We already lost Mom, I can't afford to lose you too.” She cried, falling into the seat behind her as she rested her head on his arm.

“I know it's difficult, Josh, but you can fight it. I know you can. I believe in my brother who'd joined the Navy with a relentless spirit. Death shouldn't take that from you. You have to fight, J. For me. For Dad. For Mom,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “Please.”

In the midst of her cries, Joslyn felt a firm arm wrap around her shoulders and when she lifted her head to look at the owner, seeing her father, she leaned into him, and in his warm embrace, she let out her anguish.

❀ ❀ ❀

Seated in a little café just a small distance from the hospital, the silence that settled heavily in the air between Joslyn and her father was a taut one. They each sat completely immobile, their heads downcast as they busied themselves with staring down at their beverages.

Lifting his head, Timothy scrutinized the figure of his daughter seated opposite him, the feeling of guilt ever constant whenever he saw her. His daughter had become a shell of the person she once was—and Timothy can't help but feel like he is to blame for that.

After the death of his wife, he'd receded into himself, becoming negligent of his duties as a father in the process. He’d abandoned Joslyn, leaving her all alone to shoulder the task of finding Joshua. Timothy had betrayed her, he'd failed her in so many ways but he couldn't even begin to know how to apologize and rectify his mistakes because although he was sorry, he did not think he was yet ready to be the father he once was to her.

“Sweetheart, your frappé isn't going to drink itself even if you stare at it for an eternity, you know.”

Her father's voice caused Joslyn to jerk back to reality and she finally raised her head to look at her father. She attempted a smile at his joke but was aware it only came off as a grimace, so she instead returned to sipping her drink once more before trying to quell the awkward air between them again.

Sitting up in her chair, Joslyn took a moment to watch her father closely before asking him, her tone completely earnest. “How have you been, Dad?”

Timothy shrugged in response, evidently trying to assume an aura of nonchalance—one Joslyn could see through to the hurting man beneath. “I’ve been alright, darling. You need not worry about me. How have you been?”

Joslyn remained quiet for a moment, pondering whether to probe him for the real answer to the question she had asked or to relent and instead answer him. She decided on a reply somewhere in the middle.

“I miss my family,” she whispered shakily, her voice shaky with emotion as her eyes began to prickle due to the welling tears. “I miss Mom, I miss Josh and I miss you, Dad.” Timothy visibly winced at her words but she powered on. “Since Mom p-passed on, I can’t help but feel lonely. As if I’m existing in this world without an anchor or a family, and there’s only so much Sig can do for me as my best friend. She’s trying her best, really but I need my father. I need you, Dad.”

Joslyn leaned forward in her seat, stretching her hands across the table to grab her father's in a tight hold. “Dad, I know you're still hurting, I am too. After all, she wasn't just your wife, she was my mother too. And the very last thing our family needed was another curveball in form of Josh going missing and…” she inhaled shakily, trying to muster the strength to say her next words, “and turning up h-half dead.

“But Dad, if we’re gonna get through this phase, we have to do it together. We have to be there for each other, be strong for each other. The last thing we should be doing is distancing ourselves from one another. Mom wouldn’t like that and neither will Josh.”

Joslyn watched as her father sighed heavily, his expression projecting the shame and regret he was feeling. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, tightening his hold on Joslyn’s hands in return. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one to be blamed for the distance between us. I’ve failed you as a father, Joslyn, and instead of manning up to make amends, I’ve been nothing but a coward and avoiding my responsibilities.

“When I should’ve been our family’s pillar, been the emotionally strong one, the one comforting you and reaffirming our hopes, I’ve been nothing but a wimp, drowning my sorrows in the worst possible ways; in ways your mother would never have approved of. And I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry. Forgive your fuck-up of a father.”

Joslyn shook her head, her throat aching with the effort it took to keep her sob at bay. She gave her father a reassuring smile, something akin to hope finally blooming in her heart after the months-long bleakness. “There’s nothing to forgive, Dad. We have different ways to grieve but once it’s beginning to cause more harm than good to us, we should know when to stop. But I know we can weather this storm together, Dad; we have to. For Josh’s sake, OK?”

Timothy nodded, vowing to Joslyn to make amends and be less estranged. And thus, the air between them became one of tranquility, without the former awkwardness and tension as the father-daughter duo enjoyed their time in the café.