Page 7 of Impacted by Love

I didn't realize the phone automatically resumed our call, so his aggressive tone forced me to probe for answers. My plan was to take a couple of seconds to try to control my reaction to his information before resuming the conversation.

"Where did the food go that I bought y'all not even a week ago?" I ask, ignoring his attitude.

"A lady in the building bought that stuff from Val when we put an ad on the bulletin board in the lobby. Our money was funny, and we had to get our fix."

Disconnecting the call without another word, the volcano within my stomach erupts, and before I know what's happening, my fists slams into the wall next to my desk several times. The instant dent matches the zing of pain shooting from my hands up my forearms, yet the fog within my brain makes it difficult for me to reel myself in.

"Of… all… the selfish… fucking—" My words and fists accompany the punches to the wall before my fingers begin to become numb, forcing me to stop.

The instant throbbing in my hands and forearm has my gaze assessing the damage I self-consciously caused myself. Water slips from the corners of my eyes because my parents never consider their actions, and I'm always responsible for cleaning up the mess they make.

"Now, God, I know what your word says, but this burden is starting to become heavy," I say over the lump in my throat.

With the precision of someone new to typing, I slowly peck out Dominic's number because I'm going to need medical care and am unable to drive from the swelling quickly taking over my hands. Blood runs down my hand, and my gaze gets lost in the crimson when the ringing sounds around the room.

"Hello."

"Can you come to my house, please? I need you to drive me to the emergency room because I’ve injured my dominant hand which will prevent me from driving myself," I say when Dominic answers the call a minute later.

* * *

"Hello, my name is Onesti, and I'll be taking you to?—"

The soft, sensuous voice enters my subconscious, forcing me out of the haze the pain meds had put me in.

Seconds became minutes while my mind caught up to my brain because my eyes were assessing the woman wearing mint green scrubs. Her short blonde bob, perfectly shaped brows, slender nose, high cheekbones, and thin lips with a light brown sheen have me in a trance. The light in Ms. Onesti's eyes instantly comforts my weary soul and speaks to the places within me that few are privileged to see. My breaths become slow while my pulse races, and my chest feels like it's expanding with every second my eyes peer into this woman's face.

"Are you okay, Mr. Harr?—"

"Asaiah. Please call me Asaiah," I insist, cutting her off while desperately trying to give us some common ground since she provided her first name upon entering.

Onesti's slender neck contradicts how her clothes fight to contain the curves of her hips, which has me imagining what she looks like without the confinement of her garments.

This is no way for a man of God to be thinking, Asaiah.

The chastisement of my conscience does little to thwart the thoughts plaguing my mind about the beauty pushing a wheelchair toward me.

"Let me help you. I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore. It looks excruciating," Onesti says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah. The wall in my home office won the battle between us," I say, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Let's get your images so they can get you patched up."

Waiting with her hands resting on the arms of the chair, Onesti gives me time to sit before leading me out of the room.

"Did they give you something for the pain? With your swelling, I imagine it's painful," Onesti says.

The cold and sterile hall we're walking through causes a shiver from the unwelcoming atmosphere. This is my first time in this situation, which is often surprising after dealing with the people responsible for my existence. Yet Mom would frequently tell me that hospital visits were a luxury we didn't have, so I needed to do everything necessary to prevent the inconvenience. If I could get reimbursement for this visit, I would send it to them, but since their expenses are being taken care of by me, it would be pointless.

"The nurse gave me a little something to take the edge off but said the doctor would hold off giving me more until they know what they're dealing with." My face contorts when I look at my hand, and the reminder of what led me to this moment returns to me.

The haze of the Onesti's presence becomes fleeting the longer I stare at the destruction my parents' actions have caused. Throughout my life, I have been able to handle each obstacle I've had by concealing my anger and praying without ceasing. Yet, the knowledge of the selfish actions sent me spiraling in a way I couldn't prevent. I have been holding onto the many ways my mom and dad have let me down but today took the cake. For them to trade their groceries for a fix let me know that they didn't care about what it meant once the smoke cleared. Then again, why should they when I have been coming to their rescue since long before I was capable of making the decision to do so?

Biting on my inner cheek, I fight the urge to release the emotions within the hidden parts of me I've buried inside. I have never been able to live a normal life nor been given any form of appreciation for my efforts. Imagine becoming your parents' caretaker when they aren't elderly or dealing with sickness.

Drugs are a form of sickness, though.

A growl simmers at the back of my throat from the statement in my mind because while Andre and Valerie have been addicts for the bulk of my life, I feel like they're anything but sick. In my opinion, having children should have been the remedy to whatever demon they were fighting. I might have been able to understand their plight had Mom not taken nine months off to deliver Annalise healthily. Whatever willpower Mom had to do that should have been adopted to stay clean post-delivery. Yet, here I am again, bearing the weight of their selfish decisions. Neither of them had considered me once in my entire life but considering them has been my life's work.

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