Chapter 7 #2
“Cole.” His name leaves me breathlessly, my tone both shocked and angry. I don’t know whether to scold him for his tone or apologize for being the reason he’s drunk and mad. “I’m sorry.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I’m going to go.” I can hear a smile in his voice as he says, “We’re going to play darts. Call you later.”
“Okay. I love—”
The call clicks off, and my throat suddenly feels like it’s going to close up altogether. Tears well up in my eyes.
What the hell was that?
He’s been distant from time to time, but nothing ever like that. That was just … someone else entirely. The ache in my chest reminds me of a roller coaster, the cart guiding me through highs and lows of anxiety, guilt, and anger, unsure of where to land.
He could have at least said he loved me. I know he’s upset right now, and I can understand where he’s coming from, I just wish he’d express it better. We’re both going to have to get healthier at communication, moving forward.
My eyes burn, and I fight the sensation away as fast as possible. I’m not crying right now. I don’t have time for it. I just want to get unpacked and settled into my new home before breaking down for the first time in it.
But the overwhelming emotion fights back and spreads down my throat and chest. My back hits the door as the room shrinks by the second, and I slide down onto the floor, tucking my knees up into my chest.
The floor starts to spin as my head gets lighter and lighter.
No, please don’t spiral. Just take a deep breath and calm down. Everything will be okay.
Inhaling as deep as possible, I fill my lungs in jagged bursts as I start to hyperventilate. Out of nowhere, it’s like I’m gone. One minute, I was talking to Hannah, and the next, I’m curled up behind the door, victim to my mind and the demons that haunt it.
Invisible fingers squeeze around my neck, wrapping tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe. I grab the invisible hand, pulling it as hard as possible but it doesn’t budge.
Tears burst from my emotional dam and stream down my face.
Oh God, I can feel it all over again. I can feel his hands all over me, branding me.
My heavy breaths sound through the air, filling the room around me as hope seems to dwindle further away. I need to get control of myself and stop this panic attack. But I don’t even feel in control of my body in the slightest, just like I didn’t that day. He’s back, and he has me and …
I gasp for air, my lungs shriveling up inside of me like raisins as I attempt to pry his grasp from my soul. I need a reset button, something to jump-start my nervous system because, clearly, nothing else is working right now.
Without giving myself time to think or question the idea that appears, I stand on my feet and run toward the bathroom in the hallway, remembering the set up from my virtual tour.
Throwing the curtain open, I start the shower and keep the water on cold.
I don’t bother to take a single thing off before stepping into the tub and forcing myself under the freezing cold stream.
The second the arctic water hits me, I suck in a breath, feeling like my body is going into shock. But it’s the drastic temperature change that’s going to pull me from the cage in my mind.
I stand beneath the forceful flow, feeling it soak into my hair, my T-shirt, leggings, undergarments, and shoes, coating me in a protective layer, and before I know it, the only reason I’m quivering is because of the temperature and not from the panic attack.
After another minute or two, I shut the water off and strip in the shower, leaving my clothes in a sopping pile in the tub as I step out and wrap the complimentary robe around me. I bundle myself up like a hug before walking back out to where my suitcases wait for me.
For a moment, I just stare at the room. The new leather couches, the warm hardwood floors, and the plush rug that runs down the entryway toward the door.
Am I too in over my head? Was this all a terrible idea that I never should’ve chased?
Someone’s door slams in the hallway, startling me out of the never-ending questions.
I whisper to myself an affirmation to remind my mind, “You are safe. You are safe. You are safe.”
It takes a few more times for my brain to believe me, but eventually, my breathing evens out, and my body fully calms.
You know what sounds good right now? A cup of hot chocolate. Lord knows caffeine is the last thing I need for this anxiety.
I quickly pull some clean, dry clothes from my luggage and change, slipping on one of my other pairs of sneakers. I can unpack and settle in later. Right now, I think not being alone is the best thing I can do—at least for a little while.
Grabbing my purse, phone, and keys, I step into the hallway and lock the door behind me, pressing the red lock button and hearing it click into place, before heading downstairs in the elevator.
All of my senses feel heightened as I stroll across the foyer, every person a potential threat to the fight-or-flight mode my body is in. I know the likelihood of anyone here coming after me is low, but it’s certainly not zero. It never is.
The fresh, crisp air outside welcomes me, and the deep breath I take reaches every inch of my lungs, expanding fully in my chest. Even the noise of the city is somehow calming. Other than the silence that usually torments me, any noise is welcome.
I habitually scan my surroundings, clocking people, vehicles, and places around me while I figure out which way to go.
It takes but a second to spot the cute sign for the coffee shop Hannah mentioned, and she wasn’t kidding; it’s, like, twenty feet away from the entrance to our apartment building.
I fall into step with the pedestrians and make the quick trek to the shop’s front door. Even from the outside, I can tell the vibes are immaculate. The door opens as I approach, and I slam to a halt as two tall guys step through the wide frame.
No way.
Oh, come on. I just got my shit fairly together, and now the universe is sending me another test.
I’m not prepared to see him or face him. This isn’t how I pictured our first encounter going when I agreed to work for his team. This is not what I planned.
The last thing I expected when I decided to stop by the coffee shop was crossing the only person who could send me into an immediate relapse.
Yet, somehow, I’m not surprised that fate wanted to add another challenge to my day by putting me face-to-face with the one man I was hoping to avoid in this city for as long as possible.
Jensen Donnelley.
He’s laughing at something the tall, dark-haired guy says before his eyes land directly on me, his pupils dilating instantly, making his brown eyes seem even darker.
I watch the moment his mind shifts from looking at a stranger to looking at someone he’s known for over a decade—since we were once kids, since we were the most important people in each other’s life, since I once thought we’d end up together at some point.
But that was before Cole, before Jensen became someone I didn’t recognize anymore. Childhood fantasies are just that—fantasies. Life is brutal, gory, and raw. Holding on to what-ifs and what was will only make matters worse.
“Lain?” Jensen mutters my name in disbelief, his voice deeper and rougher than I remember, thick with intense emotion.
He’s not the sweet boy he once was, who helped me plant flowers in my backyard or drove me to McDonald’s late at night for a snack before helping me sneak back into my window.
He’s not the same guy who snuck into my bedroom when his parents were fighting just so that he could sleep on my floor near people he felt safe with.
That guy still exists somewhere deep inside of him, I’m sure, but I haven’t seen a glimpse of that version in a long time, not since I got really serious with Cole.
Now Jensen’s the guy who flirts with every woman he talks to, especially in interviews, like he’s trying to overcompensate somehow.
He’s the brutal hockey player who targeted my boyfriend on the ice and injured him intentionally.
And for what? Because he was butt hurt that I was starting a new life and he wasn’t?
We both stopped talking to one another. There’s no reason he needed to go out of his way to hurt Cole.
Anger floods me as I recall the cockiness he showed after the fact, dancing away from the hit on the ice with pride, his arms in the air as he skated toward the bench.
It took months of work to get Cole back on his feet, and as much as he gets under my skin sometimes, I love him, and I will have his back through anything, as I always have with those I love.
Jensen steps toward me, and I feel the sting on my fingers before I realize what I’ve done.
Holy shit, that wasn’t how I imagined our reunion going down, but apparently, part of me certainly did.
His friend bursts out laughing, pure joy on his face for what he just witnessed. “Oh my God, Jensy, what did you do?”
Jensen’s eyes find mine again, the chocolate swirls of his intense stare now full of anger that stabs straight through my chest.
His eyebrows pinch together, confusion and frustration fighting for control as he mentally debates his next move.
“Lainey, what the fuck?” he scoffs, rubbing his cheek, betrayal in his gaze.
I stand tall, feeling an odd wave of confidence wash over me, one I’ve always had, being around him. “That was for hurting Cole. Nice seeing you again, Jensen.”
I push past them, grabbing the door handle as I hear his friend snicker.
“Oh, fuck off, Cam,” Jensen snaps.
I disappear inside, but I know that if I were to turn around right now, I would find him watching me, just like I always did when we were younger.
My body feels like it’s on fire as I approach the counter, and I don’t know how to process it. Is it anger? Is it happiness at seeing my oldest friend? Or is it something else entirely?
When I reach the front of the line, I order a large hot chocolate. I need to get ahold of myself because this is just the beginning.