The doctor had estimated she had three more weeks. But she knew he was wrong.
Isla knew it was coming. She knew when it was time to surrender, to give up. She'd been feeling increasingly ill for the past four days. It had started slow: waves of nausea here and there, the occasional bouts of dizziness that followed. Sometimes she threw up. Other times she fainted, either Héctor or Ernesto catching her just before she hit the ground.
Héctor had been over the top with worry. He scheduled various appointments for her, and another one this morning shortly after she'd passed out again. That fool of a docter had given her various medicines and perscriptions, assuming three more weeks before Isla's time is officially up. But he can't make those choices, can't have the last word. When he left Isla had retreated to her room, staring out the window. Nothing could stop this. It was time to give in.
Isla's hands were firmly planted on the windowsill as she tried to keep herself upright. The sunshine was blinding, but she didn't tear her eyes away or shut the curtains. The wind blew diretly in her face, and it gave her comfort despite her current state of all-too-familiar pain. She hated this, but there was no way to stop it. It was her time.
She would miss both her sons terribly: Héctor and his growing relationship with Imelda. Isla's heart always warmed seeing them together, joking around and hanging out like little kids. She wouldn't be able to see their wedding or watch them start a family, but that was okay.
And Ernesto, hopefully going to become a responsible and empathetic young man, learn to put the people he loves first. Maybe even start a family of his own if he ever settled down.
Isla leaned forward a bit and tried to steady herself. She closed her eyes as another sickening feeling surrounded her. She was feeling more weary by the minute, her arms subtly shaking as she put all her weight on them. Again she was close to fainting, but neither Héctor nor Ernesto was around this time. Just as Isla was about to make an effort to walk to her bed before she collapsed she heard her door open slowly. At first Isla didn't recognize the voice, but suddenly it hit her.
"Mamá?"
It was Héctor.
His frantic expression made Isla's heart ache. His eyes are wide with concern, his forehead creased in worry. His mouth hung open for a second before closing and setting itself into a thin line. He stood in the doorway, his posture nervous and tense as he foucused his eyes intently on her.
Isla took her hands off of the windowsill and started to walk over, but she fell forward after the first step.
Héctor rushed to her, catching her just in time.
"Mamá!"
Isla focused her half open eyes on him. His voice had started to deepen a few months ago, and traces of his once high pitched and carefree tone were disappearing each day. Even now, when he raises his voice, he would never be able to get it as high as he used to. Once again something twisted inside of Isla as she thought of all she'd miss.
Héctor's right hand was under her head, his left hand supporting her back as best he could as he sat down with her in his lap. He moves his right hand and brushes the hair away from her face, his eyes filing with tears.
"Oh, Mamá." His voice cracked with sadness.
Isla tried to smile at him. "It's alright, mijo. I'm fine. We both knew this would happen."
Héctor's hand tightened on a strand of her hair. "But you're still so young."
Isla wanted to protest, but Héctor did have a point. She was a woman in her sixties, not young but not really old either.
Isla shakily reached up to touch his face, ignoring the tiredness seeping into her. "Do you have any plans with Imelda?" she asked, trying to distract him from his sadness.
Héctor sighed and adjusted her in his arms. "Not really. I don't know." He shrugged. "I want to take her to one of the cantinas in town. It has a dance party this weekend."
Isla breathed in, the effort seeming harder every second. "That sounds nice."
Héctor smiled sadly. "It should be fun. I think she'll like it."
Isla gave him a weak grin. "Are you going to invite Ernesto?"
Héctor shook his head. "I actually don't want him to find out. I'm going to try to go without him knowing."
Isla stared at him. "You shouldn't do that, Héctor."
"But they hate each other." His voice was rising again.
Isla nodded. "So Ernesto will mad to find out about you keeping a secret from him. Just tell him."
"No." Héctor shook his head again. "Not this time."
Isla sighed, going silent for a moment.
He hugged her gently. "I don't want you to go," he said suddenly. Soon her shirt was damp with his tears.
"I know, Héctor. But you can't do anything about it." Her hand caressed his wet cheek softly.
"I'll miss you."
"I know." She wheezed as she looked at him, bringing her hand down.
Héctor just stared back. "You're smiling, Mamá. Why?"
Isla closed her eyes. "Because I'll miss you, but I know you'll continue to be a great person. You and Ernesto." She opened her eyes and saw Héctor giving her a slight grin as well that squeezed out more tears.
Isla drew her last breath moments later, her hand squeezing his at the last second as he sobs.
A/N: Isla was my OC in So Different. If you're confused, she's Héctor's mother. This takes place when she pases away. Just a little idea I had, imaging how Héctor would react to the death of one of his parents.
