Chapter 35 The Panic Attack
Thirty-Five
The Panic Attack
I was panting, hyperventilating. If only I had a small brown paper bag.
The elevator kept stopping—on every floor. People entered, and then at the next stop, they’d exit. I should have taken the stairs.
My nose started running, and I wiped it with the back of my trembling hand. My stomach ached. Dallas had known. He’d known weeks ago who I was. But he hadn’t said a thing. Not a thing.
The night we went to Sporty’s and played pool, I’d told him about my dad. And he’d said nothing.
My lungs were caving in.
Finally, the elevator made it to the second-floor atrium, and I ran. I dodged past people as they read or typed away on their phones. I didn’t look back. I just kept going. Heading straight for the elevator that would send me down into the attached parking garage.
But I wasn’t fast enough. A hand pulled me to a stop.
“Ade.” Dallas’s face was splotchy, his eyes feverish, hot. “I need to talk to you.”
The pressure he had on my arm was like a vise. “Let me go.”
“I can’t.” He breathed hard. “I’m afraid you’ll run again.”
I stood motionless. My eyes were tearing up. “You’re hurting me.”
“Oh God!” He released me. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
I hugged my arm. There was a war going on inside of me. I didn’t want to talk to him, because I was so confused, so hurt. But I also did. I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of how careless he’d been with me, with my heart.
A person bumped into me, and Dallas pointed me to the center of the atrium, to the circular water fountain. “This way.”
He looked miserable. I was miserable.
We walked across the atrium together but far enough apart from each other that a couple of hockey players in their pads could have fit between us.
When we reached the slabs of granite that made up the border of the fountain, we faced each other. But damn him, I had to look away.
I gazed up through the glass roof at the two looming towers, and my heart broke straight down the center. This was it. We were done.
Over.
“In the courtroom.” He swallowed. “I didn’t think you were going to be there. You told me that you weren’t coming.”
I stepped farther away from him. “But he’s my dad.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
I folded my arms, wondering exactly how long his Pinocchio nose really was. How many more lies had he told me that I’d been oblivious to?
“In fact”—I squeezed my arms together—“you’ve known my secret for weeks, that I’m his daughter, yet you never told me who you were.”
He winced then scrubbed a hand down his face. “It wasn’t like that.”
“It wasn’t?”
“You have to believe me.” He glanced up with pained eyes. “I thought it would be better if you didn’t know. I was going to tell you after the trial.”
“Seriously?”
“Who I am, what happened in the past, it has nothing to do with what’s going on between us. It’s an unlucky coincidence, and it shouldn’t affect how we feel about each other.”
“Oh, I get it.” I nodded.
“You do?”
“You wanted to have sex with me. No, not just sex—you wanted to have revenge sex with me. To get back at my dad for ruining your dreams.”
“What? No. I—”
“It’s so obvious.” I was shivering so hard I had to tighten my grip on my arms. “If you felt anything for me at all, you would have told me who you were. It’s as simple as that.”
He slumped. “I know how it looks, but it wasn’t that way. I promise.”
“Then what way was it?”
“I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t have given me…you wouldn’t have given yourself a chance to get to know me.”
I pressed my lips together. God. This shit was complicated.
His gaze hardened, then softened, changing right in front of me. “Please. Ade, you’re killing me.” His voiced sounded anguished.
Walking away from him was going to be hard. So hard. My heart might be telling me that it didn’t want this to be the end. For us to be done. But my brain was telling me something else, that I was doing the right thing. There was no other choice.
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s over. We’re finished.”
With those words, I walked away.
“Ade,” I heard his raspy voice call out.
But I didn’t look back. I owed him nothing.
I made it to the parking garage and found the car. I got into the driver’s seat and crouched over the steering wheel.
My legs jiggled. My insides burned. I breathed in and out, in and out. I’ll get through this. I had to. I’d pretend I hadn’t fallen in love with Dallas. Pretend I’d never met him. That he was the stuff of a make-believe land.
I tried hard to hold it back, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough strength. I screamed at the windshield and sobbed.
Without Dallas, there’d be no more mornings skipping from his dorm room to mine with a glow in my chest. Without Dallas, my insomnia would worsen. Without Dallas… Get over yourself, Ade.
I gasped for breath.
Without each other, we’d both be better off.