"Mom?!" My heart starts beating wildly, my head spinning as I look up at Dylan, wondering if he'd heard the same thing I had. His wide smile and bright eyes confirms that he shares my excitement.

"Mom, you— you know who I am?" I tuck a piece of my long blonde curls behind my ear, as if that'll somehow help me hear her answer better.

"Well of course I know my own daughter!" She answers cheerfully, rolling her eyes as if I've completely lost my mind and I start to wonder if perhaps I have. "I see you two are finally together."

I notice Mom's eyes locked on my hand in Dylan's, her lips twitching with excitement. She'd never been too shy about the fact that she thought we'd make a good couple and I dreaded having to tell her that we aren't a couple at all. I don't want to make Dylan feel uncomfortable by forcing him into a fake relationship so I start to panic, not sure what to say next.

"Uh yeah you were right," Dylan speaks up, untangling his hand from mine and wrapping it around my shoulder. "Just couldn't hide my feelings for this girl any longer."

I stare at him with the utmost appreciation, mouthing a thank you as he gives me a teeth baring grin and a wink.

"Well you were never doing a good job at hiding your feelings in the first place," Mom laughs flicking her wrist dismissively. "I told your father! I said, watch those two get together before high school finishes."

The ground suddenly feels unsteady, my head spins, the smile I'd been wearing a moment ago is now a tight line as I meet her eyes, swallowing the lump that very quickly formed in my throat. Dylan squeezes my shoulder softly but I keep my eyes on Mom, trying to process what I'd just heard.

"Um, Mom.." I kneel down in front of her, taking her hand in mine. "How old am I?"

"Bethany!" She giggles. "Have you completely lost it?! Your eighteen!" She suddenly gasps, her free hand covering her mouth as she gazes at me affectionately. "You're eighteen! God baby you've grown so quickly! Off to college soon! Your father is quite excited that you've chosen to follow in his footsteps."

Tears prickle my eyes, my nose stinging as I fight the urge to completely meltdown. This is my Mom. She might believe that it's seven years earlier, she might believe that I'm in a relationship with my best friend. She might believe that I'm looking forward to life as a lawyer. But I haven't had a coherent conversation with her in years and right now, I'll take what I can get.

"Yeah, um I'm really excited about college," I tell her after I've taken a steadying breath. "I think it'll be.. great."

"Oh it will be sweetheart! It'll be wonderful for you and your father's relationship! Dylan, sweetie," Mom gazes over my head as I swallow the bitter pill that she'd just served. "Grab that chair, there's only one, but Bethany can sit on your knee."

"Oh Mom, I'm fine on the floor, it's fine."

My argument is promptly ignored when I hear a chair being pulled along the carpet behind me. Suddenly a pair of hands hook underneath my armpits and lift me to my feet before I'm pulled into a warm lap, arms wrapping around and clasping together in front of my abdomen.

This. Is. Torture.

"Don't you two look beautiful together," Mom coos as she rests her tilted head in the palm of her hand. "Dylan how's the family?"

"They're great Cassandra," I can hear the smile in Dylan's voice. "The dealership is going well and Brecken just started working for them."

"Oh that Brecken," Mom chuckles loudly. "He's a charmer! He'll be perfect at selling cars! Where is the family this morning, I thought we'd all be having Christmas together. . ."

Mom's smile starts to fade slightly, a look of confusion taking its place.

"And Bethany, where's your father, it's Christmas?!" She starts looking around the room frantically, as if she's noticing the small crowd for the first time. "Wait. . . it's Christmas? How. . ."

I quickly stand up, a feeling of dread settling over me as she starts to become more frenzied by the second. "How is it Christmas?!" She shrieks. A few people near by, give us empathetic looks as Mom stands and starts backing up, looking like a feral animal caught in headlights. "Where the hell am I?!"

She starts whipping her head from side to side, her arms in front of her defensively.

"Mom," I step forward and gently grip her arm. "It's okay! You're okay!"

"Get your hands off me!" She yells, putting her palms on my chest, shoving me backwards. I almost lose my footing until Dylan swiftly catches and steadies me before I make contact with the carpet. 

"Mom please calm down!" I plead with a shaky voice, stepping forward despite Dylan's firm grasp trying to keep me back.

"Who are you?" She barks, a distant but furious look in her eyes, the motherly affection that she'd previously regarded me with is long gone. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY NOW!"

The attention of almost the entire lounge is now on the scene unfolding. Tears stream down my cheeks as I watch a nurse and two orderlies, rush towards her. They hold and sedate her as she struggles, panicking and fighting with all her might. Dylan encircles his arms around my shoulders, his hand pushing the back of my head until my face is in his chest, preventing me from having to watch my panic stricken Mother being dragged out of the public eye.

Not wanting to linger and cry in front of a room full of people, I ask Dylan if we can leave. So he takes the lead, keeping me tucked into his side as we briskly leave the lounge, walking quickly through the corridors as I keep my eyes on the floor, my vision blurred through wet eyes.

As soon as the doors slide open and the frosty cold air blasts my face, the winter sun shining a blinding light down on to the wet concrete, I collapse to my knees. I slide through Dylan's hands as he crouches beside me, his arms winding around my shoulders again.

The tears have slowed, but my heavy frantic breathing threatens to render me without oxygen. The image of my mother losing her grasp on reality, plays like a violent record player on repeat, taunting my mind, clutching my heart.

Her wild eyes and violent outburst slowly but surely becomes the only thing I can see, my surroundings fading into the back ground.

My mother, the woman who birthed and raised me, the woman who dropped me off at school every morning, who helped me with my homework, who nursed my injuries and counselled me through heart break. The woman who took me shopping for a prom dress, who was there for every school production, dance recital and prize giving, the woman who taught me how to bake pancakes and cook a roast meal. That woman has no idea who I am anymore and there just aren't words for how badly that hurts. The pain that comes with someone who'd once considered me her entire world, no longer knows me from any other stranger on the street and it feels wrong, it hurts. It hurts bad.

Somewhere in the distance, I can hear my name being called, it's fuzzy, it sounds far away, but the word 'Bea' is definitely resonating around me. I focus on it, the voice, it sounds familiar, it's soothing and after a moment I know it's Dylan.

"Bea! Breathe! Breathe for me sweetie. In and out!"

His words become clearer and I realise that I need to do what he's asking me to do, so I switch my focus to the rapid rising and falling of my chest, the suffocating feeling is strong and I quickly snap my mouth shut, holding my breath for a moment before I release it slowly, repeating the process again.

"Good, you're doing good, keep breathing slowly."

His voice is crystal clear now and the rest of my senses start firing again, his face coming into view, his chocolate brown eyes wide with concern as his hands cradle either side of my face.

"Bea," he whispers softly when it seems that I have total control of my lungs again. His face hovers a few inches from mine, his big warm hands engulfing my cheeks as we both kneel in front of the Manhattan Home and Hospital facility.

I leap forward and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face between his shoulder and cheek. There's not a chance that I would have made it through that without him and he has no idea how glad I am that he'd come with me this morning.

"Thank you." I tell him softly.

The truth about Mom still hurts, it always will, but with a clearer mind I'm able to appreciate something I hadn't been able to focus on a moment ago.

"I got to talk to my Mom," I smile as I lean back and meet his cautious eyes. "I know that the end was horrific and I didn't handle it well, but I got to have a conversation with her, it's been years since she knew who I was. That's the best Christmas present I could have asked for."

"I'm glad you got that, Bea," Dylan smiles, slowly bringing his hand to my face as he brushes my now mattered curls behind my ear. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," I blush, feeling a little embarrassed for the panic attack.

"Don't be!" He says immediately. "Don't be sorry for anything. That's your Mom in there and you're entitled to lose it once in a while. All things considered you've been incredibly strong during the years that she's been sick. If you needa break down Bea, do it. Just make sure you call me so I can help you get back up."

The conviction in which he delivers his speech makes my heart flutter, the nerve endings in my body setting alight as he scans my face affectionately. There's no hesitation behind his gaze, no room to doubt his support.

He flashes me an adorable smile before he stands to his feet, grasping my hand and lifting me with him.

"Are you gonna be okay around everyone?" He asks as we walk towards the car.

"Honestly, I think I could use a good distraction," I admit. "I'll be fine."

"Oh bro," Brecken whispers with wide eyes the minute Dylan and I step inside his parents apartment, "you're so fucked. Charlie is pissed!"

The three of us are crammed inside the small foyer before Dylan rolls his eyes and sulks off to no doubt, cop an earful. Brecken watches his little brother retreat before he turns his attention on me, a devious smile lifting his eyes and cheeks.

"Don't start." I warn.

"You're looking beautiful this morning, Bea!"

"Brecken!" I sigh with half hearted conviction. "You're married now. With a child. This has to stop at some point."

"I distinctly remember an agreement we made on the morning of your graduation," he taps the bottom of his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I said I'd leave you alone when you and Dylan finally admit you like each other. That hasn't happened so I'm sticking to my guns."

I swallow loudly, the realisation that I could very possibly admit feelings that I may or may not have, sits on my chest like a giant weight of confusion.

"That's ridiculous Breck," I roll my eyes, refusing to play games with the older Archer. "How does your wife feel about this delusional arrangement."

"Lizzie understands that it's for a good cause." He sighs heroically.

"A good cause would have been castrating you before you reproduced. Now the world has to live through your offspring. How unfortunate."

I ignore his faux hurt and walk down the corridor towards the living area.

"Merry Christmas," he whispers in my ear as he dashes past me.

When I walk into the recently renovated, modern living area, my eyes immediately sweep the classically decorated space. Nutcrackers stand tall a top the fire place, stockings hang cutely across the front of it. A large tree stands in the far corner of the room, green and gold decor professionally littering its branches. Window decals are spread across the floor to ceiling windows and presents are flowing from underneath the artificial tree.

I realise that Charlie and Dylan likely haven't spoken yet as they're standing awkwardly beside each other, scowls etched on both of their features as Allan, Dylan's father, speaks with them in hushed tones. Judy and Lizzie, Brecken's wife, are sat on the couch, cooing over the adorable two year old Lilly, who by some grace of God is a total sweetheart, despite sharing half her DNA with an egotistical maniac.

"Oh Bea, sweetheart!" Judy chimes with a loving tone. She stands up and strides towards me with outstretched arms before she embraces me in a warm hug. "Merry Christmas darl."

"Merry Christmas," I return her affections before she steps back and I wave to the rest of the room. "Merry Christmas everyone!"

I receive a collective cheer of holiday greetings from everyone, except for Charlie of course, who eyes me with a look that screams 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.'

Allan soon abandons his conversation with Dylan and Charlie, making his way towards me and allowing the two to escape to a more private place no doubt.

"Hey kiddo," he stands beside Judy, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "How's your Mom doing?"

"Oh um," I shift my weight distractedly, not able to keep my mind from the probable argument that's going down at the moment. "Can I tell you about it later?"

I don't particularly feel like hashing out the excruciating details of this mornings fiasco. I'd rather not spoil the rest of the day with my downer mood.

"Of course honey!" Judy smiles, nodding her head in understanding.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."

I excuse myself and hurry towards the corridor, ignoring Brecken's knowing smirk as I rush past him. I bypass the loo and follow the high pitched, raised voice towards the guest bedroom, standing flush against the wall outside so that I can shamelessly eavesdrop on the lovers quarrel.

"Yes it's a big deal Dylan!" Charlie hisses. "You left in the middle of the night and didn't come back! You spent the entire night at a girls apartment and you don't see the problem in that?"

Her condescending tone makes me want to slap the contour off her cheeks.

"It's Bea, Charlie! Not some random girl I picked up on tinder for Gods sake. She needed me."

"I needed you! I woke up alone on Christmas morning! Do you know how that felt?"

"I'm sorry if you were un happy, I'm not sorry for my actions. Bea needed me this morning. I'm damn glad I was there for her."

"Ugh," Charlie groans with a throaty rumble and I can picture that stupid nose bridge pinch that she does. "I feel like if I marry you, I'm gonna marry her too!"

"Bea and I are a package deal," Dylan responds without missing a beat. "You knew this when we started dating Charlie. She's here to stay. Get used to it."

"Your relationship with her is borderline inappropriate."

I keep waiting for him to say something along the lines of 'she's like a sister to me' or 'we're family'. Anything to snap me out of the butterfly induced feelings that are continuously warming my insides. But he never says it.

"It's not inappropriate. You need to accept it. Don't make me choose." His voice comes across with a tone of warning and I almost melt right then and there.

After a long exasperated exhale she mutters, "fine whatever. But you need to start focusing on the wedding more. I can't plan it all by myself, it's in June and I need your help."

"You're getting married in June!" I give up my hiding spot, not feeling one bit ashamed for exposing myself because I'm too overwhelmed with what I just heard.

"What the hell!" Charlie hisses. "Were you listening to us?"

"Yes!" I snap, smiling sarcastically. "And I hate you too."

Not bothering to meet Dylan's sad and regretful eyes, I turn around and march out of the room.

"Bea wait!"