The blueberry and I managed to make it a little over three-quarters of the way to Happy Living before we drove over a broken bottle. What is it with me and broken glass? I'd like to be able to go a week, just one week, without shattered glass causing me problems. At first, I thought someone might have been firing a rifle, but then I heard the sad sound of air escaping from my front tire. My dad taught me how to change a flat when I got my driver's license at seventeen. I've never had to put that skill to use since I've never actually had a car of my own. I was going to get one when I moved to Manhattan from upstate New York for school but then I found an apartment just a few blocks from campus so it seemed futile.

I opened up the recessed area of the trunk and pulled out the spare tire, which was harder to do than I'd care to admit. Tires are heavy! As soon as I leaned the tire against the car I realized I didn't have a jack OR a lug wrench. I can't call AAA seeing as I don't have a membership yet. Kimmy is already spazzing out over her upcoming dinner. Jasmine doesn't even know what a lug wrench is, and my other 'friends' are all "busy".

I scroll through my contacts and begrudgingly call Hunter. I don't want to seem needy but I'm out of options right now. The line rings for several seconds and then Hunter's voicemail message plays. I hang up at the beep. Well, shit. I guess I'll just walk. I grab my purse from the car and lock the doors, not that anyone would want to steal the blueberry.

After twenty minutes of walking down the rather sketchy side street, my phone rings.

"Hey, Hunter." I sound out of breath.

"Hi, you called earlier? Sorry I didn't answer, I was on a conference call."

"It's fine, I just got a flat on the way to see my mom."

 "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, totally. I was going to change the tire but realized I didn't have a jack or a wrench."

"I can come pick you up. Where are you?"

"I'm actually just walking to Happy Living."

"You're walking? Where's your car?"

 "The blueberry is on the side of the road just passed Ridge Drive on Lake Street."

"The blueberry?" Hunter chuckles. "Okay, well I don't think you can just leave your car parked on the side of a highway, Lilah."

"It's not a highway, it's just a road." And where does it say that I can't?

"All I'm saying is it might get towed." I can't afford to get my car impounded! "Why didn't you call AAA?"

"Cause I just got the car yesterday and I didn't have time to get a membership!" I whine.

Hunter laughs. "Ok, relax babe. I'll get someone to come get your car and take it to a shop, ok? I can come pick you up from the care center when you're done and then I'll drop you off at the shop?"

I grunt. "Fine, but keep the receipts." I can pay for a new tire myself!

"Lilah-"

"I'll be done at Happy Living probably in an hour. Do you need the address?"

"No, I can Google it, it's fine."

"Ok, thanks Hunter. I'll see you in a bit."

"See you soon."

"Keep the receipts!" I whisper loudly into the phone but I think Hunter already hung up.

The familiar tan brick building comes into view as I cross the street. I feel guilty for not wanting to be here, even though my mom is finally awake. I should be happy, ecstatic. I should want to run inside and throw my arms around my mother and thank God for this miracle. But I feel angry. And nervous. It's been a month since I've stepped inside this building.

The medical receptionist greets me as I enter, and I tell her I'm here to see Anita Sterling. Her name tag doesn't say Caroline so I say 'please'. She tells me to wait for a couple of minutes while she fetches Dr. Young. I linger by the side of the front desk, too anxious to sit.

Dr. Young adjusts the stethoscope around his neck as he approaches me. "Miss Sterling, it's nice to see you again."

I manage a small smile. "Hi, Dr. Young."

"Please follow me."

Dr. Young guides me to the elevator and we go up to the fourth floor. I hate the smell of hospitals or medical facilities. The air always smells sterile, everything is quiet, and the atmosphere makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry.

We stop outside Room 404 and my heart begins to race. This is it.

Dr. Young's eyes soften as he reads my expression. "It's completely normal to be nervous. Just remember that your mother's motor skills are severely impaired and that her vocal cords are still recovering. Once you're done visiting we can discuss the recommended course of action for rehabilitation."

I nod and slowly twist the door handle.

My mother was beautiful once, with her big eyes and rosy cheeks. Her eyes now look too large for her face. She looks so pale and withered. At least all the wounds on her head and face have healed, I can barely see any of the scars.

The door slams from the cross wind and she jerks her head slowly towards me, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and walk towards her bed.

"Delilah." My mother reaches for my hand as I sit on the stool by her head. Her hands are soft and frail. I'm worried if I squeeze too hard she'll disintegrate into sand. She scans my face and tears begin to well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry." Her voice is hoarse and raspy, barely audible.

I blink to clear the tears from my eyes. "Hi, mom," I whisper.

"I'm so sorry, honey." I think she's trying to tighten her grip around my hand. "I'm so sorry."

I know she wants me to say it's ok, that I forgive her. But I can't. She did this. This is her fault. "Shh," I mumble gently. "Maybe it's best if you don't speak. Just rest." My mother nods and lowers her gaze.

I sit by her bed for twenty minutes, neither of us says anything. What is there to say? Her eyes begin to flutter and finally close. She drifts off into sleep, her hand still holding mine. She looks peaceful, the corners of her mouth are pulled into a light smile. For some reason this image causes my chest to ache. I gently pull my hand away from hers, and quietly exit her room. As I lean against her door, all the emotions, all the resentment, all the tears I've fought back the last thirty minutes break through my mental barrier and I begin hyperventilating. I scan the hallway for the emergency staircase and bolt downstairs and out of the center. I need air. Oh, my God. I can't breathe. I stagger towards a wooden bench and sit down, immediately placing my head between my knees.

Breathe.

In for four seconds, out for seven seconds.

I repeat this mantra countlessly until I feel a presence next to me.

"Lilah," Hunter's voice causes me to sit up. I wipe my face with my sleeve. "What's wrong?" I'm sure I look absolutely mental right now.

"I don't want to talk about it," I murmur and I take a tissue out of my pocket, and turn away from Hunter to blow my nose.

"Did something happen to your mom?" Hunter places his hand on my knee, his eyes showing concern.

"No, as far as I know, everything is fine." I sigh. "I just can't be in there right now."

Hunter tilts his head. I know he has questions. "Then we'll just sit out here until you're ready."

Hunter sits beside me as I stare off into the distance. He doesn't say anything, doesn't ask any questions, just sits silently beside me.  

"She was in a car accident." I sigh. My gaze stays fixated on the road in front of us.

"You've mentioned that." Hunter's voice is low and soothing. 

"It was her fault." I pause. Why am I telling him this? Hunter doesn't comment and we sit quietly for a minute. I turn to face Hunter, his expression unreadable. "I told you my dad passed away a year and a half ago. Well, I think a part of my mom died that day as well."

Hunter gathers his thoughts before speaking. "It must have been hard for her to lose her husband."

I nod. "It was, but she found a way to cope." I turn back towards the road. "She started drinking. A lot. My mother barely used to drink wine at Christmas. But then a year ago everytime I'd call her she sounded odd, like a sloppy combination of jolly and depressed. I went to visit her this past Spring, and I found so many empty bottles under the kitchen sink. We argued. She said to mind my own business and that she recently had a party, that's why there were bottles everywhere. I let it go. But then she showed up to my convocation ceremony two hours late, she was wearing sunglasses and swaying. She barely made it to her seat, Kimmy's parents had to help. It was so humiliating. And then in June, I got a phone call from her neighbor saying that she had to kick my mother out of their book club and that I should probably get her into rehab. A few minutes later I got a call from the police saying that a car registered under my mother's name was found in the ravine."

Hunter pulls me towards his chest. His thumb strokes my shoulder as I quietly weep in his arms.

I should be a better daughter. I should be more understanding. But it wasn't just her husband that died, it was also my dad. She wasn't the only one who was struggling, she wasn't the only one who was mourning. And then she decided to drive drunk? And leave me all alone? I hate her. She's selfish. She's selfish, careless and reckless. The tears have stopped and I can feel rage festering in my stomach.

"I need to go talk to Dr. Young quickly, then we can go. I'll meet you at the car in ten minutes." I stand up and face Hunter. My hands are shaking.

Hunter kisses my forehead. "I'm just around the corner." I nod.

Dr. Young informs me that my mother will need physiotherapy, occupational therapy, and most likely a psychological assessment. The next two weeks require acute rehabilitation. Five months is a long time to be in a coma, most patients usually slip into a vegetative state. Apparently my mom's very lucky to have come out of it. He says that her brain scans look perfectly normal and that they're confident there shouldn't be any long term brain damage. He hands me a brochure with all the therapies my mom requires highlighted. My jaw drops reading the prices.

"We do have a bursary program if you cannot afford to pay for the treatments," Dr. Young states as he walks me out. "I can email you the application form. Just make sure you fill it out and send it back as soon as possible."

"Is this a new program?" I ask. I don't remember getting offered any financial aid.

"No, we've had it for several years, but the funding is rather limited. We've recently received a new donation, so we are able to subsidise more clients."

I nod my head in understanding. "Ok, well thank you."

"One more thing Miss Sterling."

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you should know the first thing your mother said when she woke up was your name."

I stare at the doctor for a couple of seconds, unsure of how to respond. "Goodbye, Dr. Young. I'll be back in the next week or so."

I open the passenger door of Hunter's car and slide inside. "Thanks for picking me up. I can't believe I got a flat tire."

Hunter push-starts his engine and begins driving. "I can't believe you bought that hunk of junk," Hunter teases. "The mechanic sent me a photo of your new car."

I look at Hunter in disbelief. "Are you making fun of the blueberry? She would have gotten me here in once piece if not for the broken glass!"

"It looks like it's about to fall apart. There's literally duct tape on the bumper." Oops.

"I did that," I murmur and sheepishly look away from Hunter. "I tried to reverse park."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" Hunter laughs.

I dart my head towards Hunter and cross my arms. "You heard me. I'm not going to repeat it. So get it out of your system now because we're never talking about it again." 

Hunter smirks as he pulls on to the highway. "Do you need a couple of lessons in parking?"

I want to be offended but it's not a bad idea actually. "Only if my instructor doesn't make fun of my car."

"I'm sure that won't be an issue. The instructor is a big admirer of the blueberry's owner."

I roll my eyes. "Then I accept."

We park in the customer lot of the mechanic shop and I sprint towards my car to examine the new wheel. I walk around the vehicle and notice that the duct tape is gone and the bumper seems to be fixed. Hunter walks towards me as I dash to the payment counter.

"Hi there-" I look at the name stitched on the mechanics overalls. "Joey. I'd like to pay for my car. It's the blue Chevy." Joey looks at Hunter who is now standing behind me. "What was that look? Did he already pay?" Unbelievable.

"Oh no, he didn't pay. The total is $257.35." Joey passes me the P.O.S system and snickers. Why is he being weird? I look at Hunter who shrugs.

Joey hands me the receipt after the payment goes through. "Thank you, Joey." I grab my car keys from the counter. "Have a nice day."

"Yeah you too Miss," Joey laughs as I leave. I narrow my eyes at Hunter. Is there a joke I'm missing here?

"What did you do?" I ask.

Hunter arches an eyebrow. "Me? Nothing."

"Why is he laughing?"

"Maybe he's just a happy person." Fishy. I open my car door and toss my bag inside. "I have a business trip this week, I should be back on Thursday," Hunter adds as he walks towards me.

"Georgia?"

"No, Seattle this time."

"Well, make sure you bring an umbrella." Hunter laughs and steps towards me. I swing my hands around his neck. "What? I've heard it rains there like crazy."

Hunter wraps his arms around my waist. "Are you going to be ok?" His question is simple but packed with emotion and concern.

I tilt my head and smile. "Me? I'll be fine."

I push myself on my tippy toes and my lips crash into Hunter's. Kissing Hunter is like kissing a satin pillowcase. His lips are soft, plush, and velvety. A low groan escapes the back of this throat as I pull away and he steals one more small peck.

As I'm about to close the car door, Hunter's hand stops it. I look at him confused. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks like he has something to say. "What's wrong?" I ask.

Hunter closes his eyes briefly and when they reopen his face softens. "Nothing, just have a good day tomorrow." Tomorrow? Oh, shit. Camille. I completely forgot about that.

I drop my head on my steering wheel and accidentally sound the horn causing myself a small heart attack. "Shit! Sorry!" I turn to Hunter who's chuckling. "I'm sure tomorrow will be interesting."

"Call me if you need anything."

"It's fine. I'll be fine," I reassure Hunter unsuccessfully.

"I'm serious, Lilah. Call."

I roll my eyes. "Goodnight, have a good trip."

"Bye, babe."

The entire drive home I run through all the possible Camille encounters in my head.

I think I'm ready.

I think I'm prepared.

I think I need Dramamine.