“I amsoglad to be here. I don’t think I can sit in a car for another week.” Maggie exhaled as she jumped out of her seat. She was right. Driving almost two thousand miles in three days was utterly exhausting. All I wanted was a drink, a bed, and food that wasn’t from a drive-thru.
“Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if you could run to the grocery store.” I winked at her to mask my anxiety, heading toward the back of the trailer to unload the horses into their paddock. She shot me a glare. “How does ordering a pizza sound?”
“Don’t we have to meet up with Mike before going into the house?” I began unlatching the trailer ramp as Maggie went for the latch that opened the door.
“I told him we’d catch up tomorrow. I’m exhausted, and I think we both need a good night’s rest.” I followed her as we walked into the trailer to begin untying the horses. She ducked under the first two horses and grabbed the next ones.
We led the horses through the gate, one after the other, until the trailer was empty, and our stomachs were killing us. “I’m calling a pizza placeright now.” Her voice was animalistic. I shook my head and opened the door to our new house for the next few months. “Wow…”
She stepped back and took in the view from the entryway, her head tilting all the way up to see the tall, pitched ceiling.
I needed to thank Mike for setting us up with such an incredible place on such short notice. The house he rented for us was breathtaking. Pine and cedar wood covered the floors, walls, and ceilings. Thick, distressed beams that rose to the angled roof lined the main living area that housed a red leather couch, a gray stone fireplace, and massive windows that overlooked the expansive, green paddocks behind the house. To the left of the foyer was a large kitchen with stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and a wooden table my mother would adore.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about her, but I was. It had been weeks since I called relentlessly and still hadn’t received a response. I didn’t need her to come to visit, I didn’t even need a long conversation. I just needed to hear that she was okay. A thirty-second call. A text. A letter.
Anything.
I hadn’t realized I was gripping Maggie’s arm until she turned to face me. “Are you okay?” Her features were soft, caring. I wanted nothing more than to break down in her arms and tell her everything that was on my mind as easily as she could.
But that wasn’t in the cards for me.
I was the strong one. I needed to be the oneshecame to if something was wrong. I had never let myself into a real relationship. I had never let anyone see the anxious, broken, wrecked side of me. The side I drowned out with my vices.
“Jack?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I cleared my throat and guided her inside the foyer before shutting and locking the wooden door.
“You sure?” She turned her head to check on me, still walking toward the kitchen. I nodded.
“Good.” She sifted through the cabinets and opened the refrigerator doors to find nothing inside. “Let’s order that pizza now.”
I agreed and pulled out my phone to find a pizza delivery place because I was not driving any more than I had to.
And I desperately needed a drink.
***
I tossed in my bed for the sixtieth time that night. Everything was burning up. Everything was freezing. The room was too big. The walls were closing in. My peripheral vision was fading.
Fuck.It was happening again. I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in months. I was doing well for a while. Sitting up in my bed hastily enough to make me nauseous, I tried to take deep breaths. My hands crossed over my chest as I tried to think about things that calmed me down. Tried to think about things that were still. Stable.
The bed. The bed was staying right where it was.
That didn’t help, though, because I could physically feel the walls coming closer and closer to me. It felt like I was in a terrible horror movie with the camera fixed at an absurd angle.Like I was watching my certain death through one-way glass. And I couldn’t warn myself into safety.
My breathing became heavier.
Sight became blurrier.
I reached down to clutch the sheets. To hear the sound they made beneath my hands. They echoed like I was in an underground cave. A cave that was about to collapse on me. It wasn’t helping. Everything started to sound distant. Like I was underwater, drowning in my own lungs, with the lifesaver just out of reach. I couldn’t move my hands enough to save myself. A sob began to creep up my throat before I could swallow it down. My hands flew to my face to remind myself that I was still there. I was still present. I pressed my fingertips to my ears to try to rid the distant, underwater ringing from my brain.
My breathing was too shallow. Too deep.
Too loud.
Whether I was heaving or gasping, I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t be panicking. Not here. Not withhersleeping across the hall.
But it didn’t matter. My body had gone into fight or flight. I was powerless.
