At the ICU Door, I Learned Who Mom Really Loved

Claire's POV

The nurse gave me a sympathetic look before walking away.

I was still clutching the CT scans I'd just picked up, but suddenly, I couldn't remember why I'd come here in the first place.

The ICU allowed visitors only once a day, for 15 minutes.

Ever since I'd heard that Mom had regained consciousness, I'd been counting down the hours until I could see her. I'd barely slept all night.

It had never even crossed my mind that she might refuse to see me.

"Claire? What are you doing just standing here?" I turned around to find Dad approaching. He shoved a hospital bill into my hand.

"Your mom's expenses for today still haven't been paid. Go take care of it."

He paused. "Is she awake today?"

I nodded, my voice hoarse from lack of sleep. "Yeah. They're… allowing visitors today."

Dad's eyes widened. He immediately pulled out his phone. "What time? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll call your sister and have her come over right now."

The tightness in my throat, which had only been a slight rasp moments ago, suddenly became unbearable. I couldn't get another word out.

I closed my eyes for a second and forced myself to get my emotions under control.

"Why does Cathy need to come? She doesn't know anything about Mom's condition. I've been the one…"

Dad cut me off with a derisive laugh. "And what good has that done? You think spending 15 minutes in there is going to magically make you capable of coming up with a better treatment plan?

"Your mother was right about you. You always have an ulterior motive. She barely wakes up, and you're already rushing in to play the devoted daughter.

"This is a critical time for her recovery. Maybe think about what's actually best for her instead of making everything about yourself."

Every word hit like a bullet, tearing straight through my heart.

"Seeing your sister will make your mom happy. And being in a good mood will help her recover. What are you going in there for? To stand around and make awkward small talk? You'll probably just upset her.

"We've always let it slide when you felt the need to prove yourself. But seriously, Claire, there's a time and a place."

For a moment, I was so angry that it completely drowned out the hurt.

"Fine." I shoved the hospital bill back into his hand. "If I'm that useless, then I'm leaving."

I had barely turned around when Dad called after me, asking, "Where do you think you're going? I told you to pay the bill! Today's fees still haven't been taken care of!"

I stopped and looked back at him. "Dad, is that all I'm good for? Being your personal ATM? You just said seeing me would be bad for Mom's recovery.

"So, why is it that ever since I started earning money during my internship, you and Mom have always come to me whenever either of you got sick?

"A headache, a fever, a bad back… Whatever it was, I was the one who took you to the doctor. I was the one who paid the medical bills.

"So, I guess you can't blame me for getting the wrong idea. I actually thought I had a right to want to see my own mother.

"But since I'm apparently no use to either of you, call my sister next time something happens. Sounds like all Mom has to do is see her face and she'll make a miraculous recovery."

Dad's face flushed with anger. "You're our daughter! Of course you're supposed to spend money on your parents! And what's with that attitude? Enough with the sarcasm. Show some respect!"

I turned away without answering. Not because I was strong enough to let go. I was just afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would start crying.

Dad kept yelling after me, calling me selfish and immature, accusing me of throwing a tantrum at a time like this.

The elevator doors slid shut. The second they did, a tear slipped down my cheek and splashed onto the floor.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my friend.

It read, "Claire, visiting hours should be over by now, right? How's your mom doing?"

Another message came through almost immediately. "Whatever happens, you've practically been living at that hospital for almost a week. You need to get some rest too.

I stared at those words and suddenly laughed.

Almost a week.

Even my friend knew how exhausted I was. Even she thought it was obvious that I should be the one to see Mom during her first ICU visit.

And yet, Dad had just accused me of having an ulterior motive and of trying to make myself look like the devoted daughter.

And Mom? She didn't even want to see me.

Ever since my internship, I'd been spending money on my family. New phone, new clothes… Whatever Mom and Dad wanted, I bought.

Once I started working full-time, the requests only got bigger. Gold jewelry, fishing rods that cost thousands, wellness products that ran into the tens of thousands of dollars…

I never said no.

When my sister, Cathy Brenner, decided she wanted to apply to grad school, I was the one who paid 20,000 dollars for her prep program. When she didn't get in, I never once held it against her. Instead, I spent weeks helping her find an internship.

A pipe burst at home? They called me.

The internet bill was overdue? Me again.

Their annual checkups, wedding gifts for relatives, and unexpected household expenses… Somehow, all of it became my responsibility.

My friends used to joke that I deserved a Daughter of the Year award. They would tell me how lucky my parents were to have me.

Some daughter of the year I was. I wasn't even allowed 15 minutes with my mother in the ICU.

I opened an old email from a company in Northbridge that had tried to recruit me months ago. This time, I accepted their offer.

If Mom didn't want to see me, then fine. She wouldn't have to see me ever again.