Feelings Incarnate | ✓

25 | Overwhelming Changes

Hayden࿐

They didn't allow me to visit her. Her family still believed that it was my fault. Heck, even I believed it was my fault.

Rose kept me updated on her progress, though. The doctors had stated that her brain had undergone massive haemorrhage. Due to the trauma, she was now in a medically induced coma. Yes, the girl I loved was in a coma.

And do you know what the doctors had said? That they didn't know when she'd wake up.

It's been three weeks already, and she still hasn't woken up. I couldn't stand around doing nothing. All I could do was send her flowers--mainly pink stonecrop, I remembered she used to say she loved the plump, rosette flowers--via Rose, but that wasn't really helping me stay sane. Regret was gnawing at me; if I hadn't taken my eyes off the road, this wouldn't have happened.

My house--it was never home to me after losing Dad--was hell. College was hell. The entire city was hell. I hated it.

Every time I closed my eyes at night, the accident haunted me. The way the smile disappeared from her face when she caught sight of the van and her low whimpers of pain. It kept me awake at night. I tried to listen to music to relax, but every song reminded me of her.

And to make matters worse, her mother had asked Rose to tell me she wanted to meet me. That's how right now, I was sitting across her raven-haired mother, gripping a steaming coffee mug at the small café in front of the hospital.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked, her brown eyes darting to the sling around my arm.

I nodded nervously, still queasy about why she wanted to meet me. After what happened at the hospital that night, I was positive whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

She let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Hayden," she started, clasping her hands together. "I'm sorry for losing my mind that time at the hospital . . . I sort of lost control."

I waggled my free hand at her, stopping her. "Oh, no, I understand."

Her lips twitched up to a slight smile. "You seem like an amiable person, just like Kiara said." My heart instantly clenched at the mention of her name. "But I need to ask a favour from you," her mother continued.

I knew what was coming next as I studied her movements. She was uneasily picking at the hem of her sweater, her mouth opening and closing as if hesitant to say what was at the tip of her tongue. But I waited with just an exiguous spark of hope; hope that it wouldn't be what I was thinking.

"I want you to stay away from her."

It felt like I was hit in the stomach with a bowling bowl as I gawked at Kiara's mother, my hands gripping the warm mug tightly, causing my skin to burn.

At my silence, she continued, "I know it's hard, but Kiara . . . she's too naïve. She's my youngest and was brought up much more different than her sister. I'm not telling you to move to another college, that's not fair to you. I'm just asking you to push her away. I don't want her having a boyfriend, not right now when she's at the most crucial point of her life." She raised her eyebrows at me, expectantly. "I hope you understand."

I stared hard at the mug with the coffee that was gradually going cold. Frustration was threatening to tear me apart, but I couldn't do anything. Closing my eyes tight and letting out a huge breath, I whispered, "Thanks for the coffee."