Chapter 14
Sly
I hadn’t heard from her in two days, and she hadn’t texted back after I’d asked if she liked the stream.
But there was silence, and it worried me.
At first, I thought maybe she hated the stream.
Saw my true personality and got bored and annoyed or figured that having a streamer as a friend wasn’t something she wanted.
But there was the possibility that she was just busy.
That she fell into work and forgot to check her phone.
I didn’t want to believe that something was seriously wrong. That maybe Joey somehow got his memory back and remembered her, and that maybe she was back with him, and was too scared to let me know.
Showing up unannounced felt wrong. She’d been clear about not coming over without asking her first. But the silence was so deafening that I feared I’d have to break that rule.
Around six, I sent another text.
Just checking in. Everything okay?
I set the phone down and got up to head for the kitchen to make ramen, because boiling water was the peak of my culinary range. But my phone pinged before I took two steps, and I reached for it again immediately.
Help
Every alarm in my body went off at once.
Are you home? I’m coming over.
I pulled on a sweater, grabbed my keys and helmet, and took the stairs fast. My head wasn’t clear, but I kept the ride clean.
No stupid moves, no close calls, because I couldn’t cause an accident right now.
Or ever. I hated rushing April because she deserved better, but this was an emergency, and getting to Sumner came first.
I parked on the curb, making sure April wasn’t in the way, then entered the building and texted as I jogged up the steps.
Here. Can I come in?
There was no answer, so I knocked. “Sumner? It’s me.” I pressed my ear to the door but couldn’t hear any noise. I tried the handle, crossing a line she had made clear two days ago, but she wasn’t responding, and I needed to make sure she was okay. To my surprise and worry, the door was unlocked.
Maybe she forgot to lock it because whatever was going on pulled her out of her routine, and I was certain she would’ve locked herself in to be careful, after everything she went through with Joey.
“I’m coming in,” I called, loud enough but without scaring her. I took off my boots, closed the door behind me, and then locked it. “It’s Sly.”
The living room was empty. A blanket was on the floor near the couch. Her laptop sat open on the table, the screen black. “Sumner?” I kept my voice low and walked toward the hallway. She wasn’t in the kitchen, so I checked the room to my left, which turned out to be her bedroom.
“Sumner?”
The thought of her not even being home lingered, but as I turned, I heard a whimper coming from the bathroom. I stepped closer and stopped at the doorway, knocking softly.
“Sumner, are you in here?” I asked, slowly pushing the door open.
She was on the bathroom floor with her back against the tub, knees up, arms locked so tight around them her knuckles were white. Her face was pale and wet, and every breath came short and rough. When she looked at me, her eyes kept losing focus and coming back, unable to hold.
“I’m here,” I said from the doorway. “Can I come closer?”
She gave one small nod. I moved in and crouched a few feet away so I wasn’t crowding her. “Can I sit with you?”
Another nod.
I sat down in front of her and leaned back against the cabinet so we were level. “Okay,” I said. “This is a good start. You did the hardest part by asking for help. We’ll take it slow.”
Her breath hitched. A soft sound broke from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to her sleeve. It looked like the air she was breathing was hurting.
“Follow my voice, and we’ll breathe together. In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. Do you know this exercise?” I asked.
Her eyes snapped to mine again, and she nodded.
I smiled. “Good. Let’s do it together. Ready?”
She gave another small nod.
I breathed in and held up my hands to count. She did it with me, but her breathing stalled the first time.
“You’re doing great, Sumner. Once again. Ready?” This time, I counted out loud for her to hear. “One, two, three, four. Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. And out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Good job.”
I kept the pace and didn’t rush her. “Again. In. Hold. Out.” On the third round, the air actually traveled all the way. It wasn’t smooth, but it was enough for now.
I smiled again, seeing the panic in her eyes slowly fading. She still wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, and I was scared that she’d soon snap out of it and panic upon finding me sitting here.
I stayed calm and breathed with her one more time, giving her all the time she needed.
“Cold water can help. Can I wet a cloth for your neck?” I asked.
She watched me, unsure if this method would actually help.
“It worked for me,” I admitted, letting her in on my past of frequent panic attacks. “The cold will slow your heart rate,” I explained, knowing that her heart must’ve been racing.
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
I stood and grabbed the washcloth by the sink, ran it under cold tap water, wrung it, and came back. I held it out and waited. “Do you want to do it yourself, or can I help?”
She lifted a hand that shook and reached for it. Her fingers didn’t quite cooperate. “May I?” I asked quietly. “Is that okay?”
Another nod. I moved closer and pressed the cloth to the side of her neck. “Good,” I said. “You’re doing it.”
Her jaw trembled as she watched me closely. “I feel…wrong,” she managed. “I can’t feel my hands.”
“That’s panic,” I said. “It’s awful, but it passes eventually. Keep breathing with me.”
When her breathing went ragged again, I steadied the rhythm and waited it out. When her eyes slipped past me, I brought her back without being rough. “Look at me,” I said softly. “You’re home, you’re safe. Look around. Everything is solid and real. This is your safe space, remember?”
She nodded slowly, another small sob escaping her.
“Can we try something? I used to do this, and it helped me refocus. Can you name five things in this room that are blue?”
She didn’t answer, so I named them for her. “The towel by the sink. The small flower pot by the window. Your toothbrush. The mouthwash. The hearts on my socks.”
A ghost of something moved in her expression as she dropped her gaze to my feet. I smirked. “I got them at IKEA. No clue why they sell socks, but I thought they’re cool.”
The smallest smile tugged at her lips, and I took it as a big step forward.
“Now, four things you can feel.”
Her eyes moved up again, and she looked horrified. I knew that feeling. Wanting to feel something but not being able to.
“You can do it,” I encouraged, but she still wouldn’t talk.
“The cloth on your neck,” I started, keeping my eyes on hers. “The floor under your feet. Your sweater. The tub against your back.” I didn’t push for words. I only needed a blink or a nod to know she was still with me. “Three sounds next. The fan. My voice. The cars outside.”
Her breaths lengthened a little. Her hands uncurled just enough that I could see her fingers again instead of fists. Tears kept coming, but she was slowly coming back to me. I gave her time and space, and went to wet the cloth twice more to keep it cool.
When the worst of it loosened, she let her head fall back against the tub and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice raspy.
“You don’t owe me an apology,” I said. “Not ever for this.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
“I’m glad you did,” I told her.
She wiped her face with the heel of her hand. “I hate this,” she said.
“I hate it for you,” I said. “But you made it through because you’re strong.”
We fell silent again, and after a while, she reached up and pulled my hand away from her neck. I didn’t argue and just held the cloth.
“Do you want to move to the couch, or stay here a little longer?”
“Couch,” she whispered.
“Okay,” I said, getting up. “Do you want me to help you stand up?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
I slid a hand under her forearm and steadied her until she was on her feet.
Her legs wobbled, and I kept close without pulling her anywhere.
We walked the few steps to the living room, and I settled her onto the couch.
I grabbed the blanket from the floor, shook it out, and tucked it over her legs. “I’ll get you some water.”
It took me a moment to find the glasses, but once I did, I filled one with water and headed back to the couch.
She took a few small sips, then lowered the glass and looked up at me. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I said. “But I’ll take it.”
Her eyes never left me, and I could see she was thinking hard about something. I was prepared to be kicked out, and while I wasn’t ready to leave her on her own this soon, I would leave if she’d asked me to.
“Will you stay?”
Her question was one I didn’t expect but had hoped to hear.
“If you want me to.”
She nodded. “I want you to.”
“Okay.”
That’s good. I wouldn’t have been okay with leaving and risking not hearing from her again for days. I sat down on the couch with enough space between us, giving her the space I knew she needed.
I was happy just sitting here in silence, and it was up to her if she wanted to talk. I’d listen.