Page 147 of Behind the Net

I’ve never been so fucking happy. I’ve never felt like this, and when I think about how hard I tried to resist her, I laugh.

“What are you grinning at?” Pippa asks from the passenger seat.

I’m laughing at the fact that I thought I could ever walk away from her. I’m laughing because I somehow thought pining after her for the rest of my life was a better option than this. Better than being together. Better than telling each other how we feel.

“Just happy,” I say, and she smiles back at me.

“Me, too.”

“Good.”

My phone rings through the car’s Bluetooth. It’s my mom’s number.

“Hi,” I answer. “We’re on our way home. We should be there in an hour and a half.”

“Is this Jamie?” a woman’s voice asks, and Pippa and I frown at each other.

Alarm rises in me, flooding my veins. “Yes?”

“I’m calling from the emergency room at Lions Gate Hospital,” she continues.

The alarm blares, and my mouth goes dry. That’s the hospital in North Vancouver. We’re approaching a lookout point on the highway, so I pull off to park.

“Your mom had a panic attack. She’s okay, but we’d like someone to pick her up.”

My mind reels as I white-knuckle the steering wheel. She’s better. She has a therapist, and she was looking into medication. She hasn’t had a panic attack since that night that Pippa and I went over. We’re past this.

She’s better.

Pippa’s hand is on my shoulder, and her eyes are full of concern.

“Okay,” I say, because I don’t know what else to do.

“Her car has been towed to a local shop,” the woman continues, and something in my chest crumples.

“She was driving?” I stare at Pippa with shock. She’s worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“It seems that she had a panic attack while driving, and then hit a police officer’s car.”

My stomach drops. I can’t believe this. This doesn’t feel real.

“Fuck,” I mutter, raking my hand through my hair. “What about her medication? Did she not take it today?”

There’s a long pause, and my stomach sinks further.

“I’m not aware of any medication,” the woman says. “She didn’t list any on the intake form.”

She lied to me. All the avoidant conversations where I thought she just needed space. She never got medication. A headache grows behind my eyes. This is so much worse than I could have imagined. She was driving and hit acop car. She’s supposed to be taking care of Daisy—

My pulse explodes. “Was there a dog in the car?”

If something happened to Daisy, I couldn’t bear it. I’d never forgive myself.

“No,” the woman answers. “She said the dog is at home.”

Pippa and I look at each other in relief. That’s something, at least.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” I tell the woman.

---