“To new friends.”
We clink, and I’m careful to sip my drink.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s Benjamin really like? He seemed a little intimidating when I first met him, and he’s certainly not giving anything away since.”
I smile as I think of him. It’s an automatic response and one I can’t recall doing before. I’m usually so careful. Every move, every expression has a time and place.
“Oh, he’s…” My words stick as I try to sum up the man that I’m betraying. The sting of tears catches me off guard, and I reach for my glass in desperation.
“Hope?” Emily prompts.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, he’s not a man that can easily be summed up.”
“You love him.” It isn’t a question. I frown, unsure how much to say.
“I don’t know how you’d sum up Quinn if I asked you the same thing?” I need to change the subject. My heart pounds in my chest, my breathing laboured.
All of the scheming, lies, and deceit within my life brim to the surface. Everything I’ve buried inside of me needs somewhere to go—an escape. I fan my face, suddenly hot and flustered. It's as if my heart can only take on so much, and admitting to loving Benjamin, after what he did for me yesterday, is pushing all of the darkness from my heart.
“Hope, you don’t look so great. Are you allergic to anything?”
I stand, desperate to stop the dizziness overriding me.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“No. I think… I’m having…” I wheeze out, putting my drink down and gripping my hands on the table. “A panic. . .”
“Torino!”
I hear the shout, but my vision blurs as I try to stay focused. On Benjamin. On what I’ve done.
“Hope? Hope, can you hear me?”
I recognise the voice, but I can’t place where it’s coming from. The thumping noise inside my head doesn’t lessen, and I squeeze my eyes shut to turn it off.
Quiet. Stillness. I breathe in and test my limbs. They slip between cool sheets and I mentally frown, not understanding how I could be at home. The last thing I remember is having a cocktail with Emily.
The memory of the panic attack comes back slowly, along with a healthy dose of humiliation. How could I let something like that happen? My eyes scan the room to confirm I am indeed home and look for the clock. It’s a little after ten in the evening.
“Emily?” I call out, thinking she’ll be somewhere in the house.
A soft knock comes from around the corner. “I’m here, don’t worry. I won’t leave you. Torino said I’m welcome to the guest bedroom. I think Quinn would like that as well.”
“Yes, okay. Thank you. I’ll be out in just a moment.”
I uncurl the covers from around me and ease myself up. I’d liken the feeling in my head to a hangover, although find it hard to believe on just a sip of champagne. I find a pair of running pants and a T-shirt, then scrape my hair back before heading out to find out what happened.
“How do you feel? Do you need anything?” Emily bombards me with concern, and I glimpse Torino behind her, visually checking I’m still in one piece.
“I’m all good. A little woozy. I don’t know what happened to me. Someone want to fill me in?”
Torino vanishes, and Emily and I head to the living room to take a seat.
“You have some more colour now. You turned white, Hope. All the colour drained from your face and it looked like you fainted. Do you think it was the drink?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, not prepared to admit what really caused it. I’ve never had a panic attack in my life, certainly never felt something that overwhelmed me like that did.
“Well, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” She tucks her feet under her on the sofa and settles in. I, on the other hand, feel like an imposter in my own home.
