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fresh air. “Excuse me.” I turned and fled.

I was only able to breathe again when I stepped out of the hospital building. I gulped in air greedily as I stood in the parking lot. My body was covered in sweat from the sprint I had done. The fog left my brain and I started to think as I breathed in fresh air.

I’d never felt as alone as I did at this moment. They didn’t want me here and yet, I couldn’t leave. Despite everything, I still loved them and they were my parents. An intense longing for Blaze came over me. I looked back at the hospital room and raised my gaze to the fourth floor.

Those were my parents up there but they were not my family. Blaze was my family. He had always been but I had always been too stupid to see it. Nothing I could ever do would make my parents embrace me into their two-person world.

My heart ached as all these thoughts ran in my mind. It was painful to acknowledge that your parents did not want you and they never had. But if I was to have a good life, I needed to accept it.

Maybe they hadn’t wanted to be parents in the first place. I didn’t understand why they were the way they were. The fact was that they had never loved me. Never paid any attention to me. They had always acted like I had been a pesky fly that they could wave away.

A sob escaped my mouth, followed by another until my whole body was wracked by sobs. I don’t know how long I cried for but when I stopped, I felt even lonelier than before. I fished out my phone and typed out a message to Blaze.

I need you.

I stared at the words before I hit send. A few seconds later, my phone beeped with a new message.

Booking a flight.

And like a switch had been flicked, the darkness dissipated. Hope filled my heart. The weakness in my legs disappeared. I became myself again. The strong person I knew I was. I typed out the hospital name and details to Blaze and marched back in. I went up to the waiting room on the fourth floor.

My mom stood looking out the window and when she heard footsteps, she turned her head. She stared at me with a stony expression.

I ignored her and went to sit down.

“Do you want me to go and get you some coffee?” I asked her half an hour later.

“No, thanks, I’m fine,” she said in a shaky voice.

Compassion for her came over me. “Dad will be fine. He’s a fighter.”

She snapped her head and looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. “You don’t need to tell me all the sentimental things that people say to comfort others. I know your father. I know he’ll be well.” Her voice went down a notch. “He has to.”

“That’s good,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll go get my coffee.” I turned away to go.

“Brooke?”

“Yes, mom?”

“You can go back home to your job and your life, we’ll be just fine,” she said.

Something in my brain snapped. I’d been holding stuff in all my life and I had reached the end of my tether. “You’ve just been dying to tell me that haven’t you? Working up the courage to get those words out of your mouth?” My voice was raised but I didn’t care.

“What are you talking about?” my mom asked but her eyes told me differently. She knew exactly what I meant.

“Let me ask you a question Mom, and I want you to be very honest. Why did you have me because clearly, you never wanted a child? You made me feel like crap every day of my life. You went out of your way to make me feel unwanted and like an outsider.”

She made a choking noise and clamped her mouth with her hand.

“Tell me,” I said. “Why have you never wanted me? I deserve an explanation.”

“It’s not that we didn’t want you,” she finally said, her voice small. “It’s just that you came so late in our lives.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. Eyes pleading to understand.

I let out a bitter laugh. “So you punished me for it?”

She dropped her head. “We weren’t punishing you but please understand, we couldn’t be the parents you needed. You came too late.”

“Too late for what?” I yelled. Luckily, the one man who had been in the waiting room had walked out seconds earlier. “You keep saying that! Late for what?”

She wore a stricken look and edged away from me as if I was dangerous.

If pain could kill someone, mine would have killed me at that moment as I waited for answers that were as unsatisfactory as they were unforthcoming.

I made a disgusted noise and turned away. I marched to the cafeteria downstairs, got a coffee from the machine and sat down to drink it. The scalding hot liquid felt good as it slid down my throat. The burning sensation made me feel alive. Like a person.

When I was finished, I threw the cup in the trash can and trudged upstairs, all the fight gone out of me. I found Mom with the doctor and hurried to them.

“This is my daughter,” Mom said, introducing me to the doctor.

The stroke had been swift but Dad had been brought to the hospital in time and with therapy and support, he would get back the use of his left side.

I let out a sigh of relief.

Tears fell down mom’s cheeks.

The doctor left and I made as if to hug her.

She took a step back.

A movement at the corner caught my eye. “Blaze!” I yelled and ran to him. He opened his arms and I ran straight into them.

He wrapped me in his arms tightly. “It’s okay my love, I’m here,” he said in his strong, soothing voice.

Suddenly, my mother’s rejection did not matter. The world had righted

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