Chapter 16 #3
Webb backed off but didn’t go away completely. He stayed right beside me and kept encouraging me. “Okay, you’ve got this. Keep going.”
I tried hard to focus on Webb’s face and the sound of his voice, to mimic his deep, even breathing, although the white noise in my head was astoundingly loud and I felt like I was falling, falling, falling into infinity.
“All is well with me,” I told him in a raspy voice. “All is well with me.”
“It is,” Webb confirmed. “Keep breathing.”
Several minutes or hours or years later—I honestly had no clue—Hawk said, “You’re doing great. Now name five things you can feel or hear or see around you, Knox.”
I swallowed. I knew what he was doing—that this was a standard panic attack response—but I wasn’t sure how he knew to do it.
“The snow,” I croaked. “The barn. Th-the step underneath me. The ground under my boots.”
I wasn’t falling. The ground was solid, and my brothers were standing by me. I was finally able to take a deep breath of sweet, sweet oxygen.
“That’s only four things,” Webb prompted. “Not five.”
I blew out a shaky breath and lifted my head to frown at him. “Seriously? You’re giving me shit for not counting properly? I don’t think that’s a standard response for panic attacks.”
Webb gave me a half-smile. “It was distracting, wasn’t it? I got some pamphlets from Dr. Paget in town and one suggested that an amusing distraction could help.”
“Amusing, not annoying,” I said wryly.
“Eh.” He shrugged. “The pamphlets don’t know what distracts you like we do.”
I closed my eyes briefly and ran both hands over my face. My family did know me. I didn’t know who I’d thought I was fooling by pretending that my mental health was my problem to handle alone.
“Come on,” Hawk said. “Let’s go upstairs. You need to relax for a bit.”
“I can’t now. I have to find Gage,” I told them. “I have things to tell him, and I’d like to do that before he agrees to take a job.” I wanted him to know I wanted to be with him, whether it was here in Vermont, or in Boston or New York, or… hell, anywhere.
“Rest first,” Hawk said, more insistently than he’d ever said anything to me before, and in my head, I heard Goodman saying that worrying about your brothers was a two-way street. “Trust us, Knox.”
I sighed and let them lead me upstairs, where Hawk made me a cup of tea while I changed out of my sweaty clothes and Webb kept up a constant stream of nonsense chatter while I sat on the sofa and drained it.
If I’d ever doubted how much Webb loved me, hearing my taciturn brother voluntarily begin a conversation about what color he might paint the barn—debating only with himself all the while, since neither Hawk nor I had an opinion—then segue into bitching about how Aiden’s teacher had moved right next door—“when he doesn’t know shit about proper orchard management!
”—then move into the Averill Union Beavers’ chance of clinching a football playoff spot without pausing for breath proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Finally, I set my cup down on the table. “I’ve got to go. I need to find Goodman if I can.”
Hawk tilted his head and watched me like he was trying to gauge if I was capable of making that decision.
“I’m okay. I promise. I…” I hesitated, then volunteered, “After a panic attack, I feel tired but wired. Like you might after a run or a workout. I’m safe to drive.”
Hawk and Webb exchanged a glance.
Webb nodded. “Okay. Because you do need to find him, if only so you can apologize for whatever put that look in his eyes earlier. And you need to tell him you love him.” He grimaced. “And this convo is done not a minute too soon, because I’ve run out of words.”
I blinked. “Wait, you know that me and Gage…?”
“Are a giant romantic thing? No, Edwin Knox,” Webb said, lifting an eyebrow. “Drew filled me in on his suspicions this morning after you left for Jack’s, which was necessary because my brother had been trying to keep it a secret.”
I winced. “I know. That’s my fault. And Gage leaving is my fault, too, because I…” I imagined Gage telling me to be honest. To trust Webb to handle it. “I was planning on going back to Boston at the end of the year.”
Webb rolled his eyes. “Yeah, now that I did know.”
“Wait.” I narrowed my eyes. “You knew? But…”
“Dude, yes. We all did.”
“Yep.” Hawk nodded. “Even Emma. Maybe even Aiden.”
Webb rolled his eyes. “You’ve had one foot out the door the whole time you’ve been here.
Why do you think I’ve been pushing you to do Norm Avery’s financial planning and marry my best friend?
God, why do you think Drew keeps finding receipts from the Great Depression and putting them in boxes for you to sort?
We knew you were thinking to leave, and we wanted to give you a reason to stay.
If going back to Boston is what’ll truly make you happy and healthy—” He touched his temple.
“—then go. Nobody wants to hold you back, Knox. But if there’s a part of you that wants to come back—if there’s a part of you that would like to be here full-time for real—we wanted you to know that we want that.
You have a place here waiting for you, and we miss you when you’re gone. ” He clapped my shoulder. “I miss you.”
Wow. I swallowed. “I don’t know what to say. I…”
“Don’t say a damn thing,” Webb scoffed. “Christ. I’ve had all the talking I can take until after Thanksgiving at least. Go get your man and talk to him. He probably wants to hear it.”
“And bring him home,” Hawk said softly.
I nodded confidently. “I will.”
But as I pulled back down the driveway through the heavy snow and headed for the highway a little faster than I should have, I directed a glance at the roof of the truck.
“Quick reminder, Lord, that I do not live in Grey’s Anatomy-land, or Downton Abbey-land.
I do not require a car accident to add drama to my day, because I’m plenty fucking good at that all by myself.
Though if you were looking for an opportunity to practice the walk-on-water shit, maybe you could give me a sign that’ll help me find the man I love, preferably before there’s six inches of snow on the ground? ”
But then my phone let out a strange chime, and I remembered in a flash that I didn’t need to follow a sign from above… because Gage had already given me a signal I could follow.