Chapter 11 Millie #2
His eyes widen in dawning horror. “Okay. Okay, I get it. Panic attack. Just… look at me, Mills. Right here.” He takes my face in his hands, his touch firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Breathe with me. In. Out. Come on, you can do it.”
He takes a huge, exaggerated breath, his chest rising and falling. I try to mimic him, but all I manage is a choked, pathetic wheeze.
“Again,” he commands, his voice a low, urgent anchor in the storm of my fear. “In through your nose. Hold it. Out through your mouth.”
I focus on his eyes, on the desperate plea in them. I try again. A tiny sip of air. Then another. It’s not enough, but it’s something. The black spots at the edge of my vision start to recede, just a little.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb stroking my cheek, wiping away my tears. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. You’ll be fine.” He repeats the words like a mantra.
He keeps me there on the floor, breathing with me, until the crushing weight on my chest begins to lessen, until the air starts to flow back into my lungs in ragged, painful gulps. I’m still shaking, my body wracked with tremors, but I can breathe. I’m alive.
He helps me sit up, his arm a strong support around my back. He glances toward the kitchen door, where Jessica is standing, her face pale with worry.
“Jessica,” he calls out, firm and authoritative. “Can you take care of the store? Lock the door if you have to. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course,” she says, her voice small.
Without another word, Liam scoops me up into his arms, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. I’m too weak, too drained to protest. I just wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent of coffee and clean laundry.
He carries me out of the café, past the worried stares of a few early customers, and lays me gently on the seat of his truck.
The drive to the hospital is a blur of flashing lights and distant noises. He holds my hand the entire way, his grip tight and reassuring.
At the hospital, they hook me up to monitors and poke me with needles, but I barely feel it. I’m just exhausted, hollowed out. A doctor with kind eyes and a gentle smile tells me I just had a minor panic attack, brought on by stress. He recommends rest and maybe talking to someone.
Liam sits by my bed. “I called Maddox,” he says quietly, breaking the silence that had settled between us.
I nod, my gaze fixed on the thin white blanket covering my legs. “Okay.”
We sit there for a long moment, the only sound the soft beep of the heart monitor. Then he speaks, his voice low and intense.
“Nothing happened between me and Jessica, Millie. We went out, we had a few drinks, we talked. I crashed at Maddox’s place. We slept on the couch. That’s all.”
I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of a lie, but all I see is raw honesty. And something else. Something that makes my breath catch.
“And you know it’s always you,” he says, and his voice cracks slightly. “It will always be you.”
He’s holding my hand, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. He reaches up with his other hand, gently brushing a stray strand of hair back from my forehead. The touch is so tender, so familiar, it makes my heart ache.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper, the words thick with unshed tears.
He shakes his head, his eyes glistening. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk. I was hurt, and I handled it badly. I should have talked to you.”
I take a shaky breath, gathering my courage. “Can you… can you please move back in?” I ask in barely a whisper. “I miss you. The apartment is so empty without you.”
He looks away, his jaw tight. “Millie…” he starts, sounding pained.
“Please,” I whisper, my heart pounding. “Please, Liam.”
He lets out a long, slow breath and turns back to me. “I’ll think about it,” he says, his voice soft. “I promise I’ll think about it.”
It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no. It’s something. It’s hope.
I look up, and my gaze catches on a figure standing in the doorway. Maddox. He’s still in his firefighter’s uniform, his face etched with worry.
“Hey,” he says, walking into the room. He comes straight to my bedside, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my cheek. “What the hell happened?” he asks, his gaze shifting between me and Liam, a question in his eyes.
The doctor comes in a few minutes later and declares me fit to be discharged. “Just take it easy for the rest of the day,” he advises.
“I’ll take her home,” Liam says immediately, standing up.
I shake my head, my mind finally clearing enough to think about practicalities. “You can’t,” I say. “You have to work at the shop. We can’t just leave Jessica to manage the place by herself.”
Maddox steps forward. “I can get the day off,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll take her home.”
“I’m fine,” I protest, sitting up a little straighter. “It was just a minor panic attack. I’m sure I can head back to work.”
Maddox puts a hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “I insist,” he says, soft but unyielding. “You’re going home.”