39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Emilie
“She locked herself in the bathroom. I can hear her crying but she won’t open up. She’s been asking for you.” Mitch is trying to explain what’s going on but I still don’t get it.
“She asked for me, by name? Or did she ask for someone?” I look at him as we’re practically jogging.
“I tried asking if she wanted any of her bridesmaids or friends here, and she basically screamed to get you and only you.”
My heart hurts. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I feel like it must be bad for her to call for me like that.
I try to get a good look at Mitch. In the moonlight, he looks sober—put together—and like he’s on a mission.
“Did you do something you want to own up to?” I ask.
Mitch stops. “No. Absolutely not. You might think I’m scum but believe it or not, I love her. I want to marry her. I didn’t do anything.” He’s pleading, his hand on his heart as his voice cracks.
“I believe you.”
And I do. I can’t recall a time when Mitch was this emotional.
We’re walking inside their Villa—this is not a room and makes our upgrade look puny. It’s like the top floor of an apartment, with multiple rooms, sitting areas, and a private swim out pool.
“She’s in there.” He gestures to the closed door in the hallway. “I’m going out on the balcony. Give the two of you some space.” Mitch walks with his head down and arms crossed .
Fuck. I actually feel bad for him.
I take a deep breath, make sure my hair isn’t wild from the light jog or the balcony activities a few minutes ago, and knock lightly on the door.
“It’s me. Emilie,” I say in a soft voice.
Eliza rustles on the other side, getting up and coming to the door. She swings it open, and my heart cracks right in two. Her eyes are puffy and swollen from crying but are blown out with fear. Black streaks paint her cheeks, and her lips look raw—maybe from biting them? She doesn’t say a word but pulls me in and closes the door behind us.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water. I sit her down on the floor, kneeling to start cleaning her up. The second the wet washcloth touches her skin, silent tears start to fall. When the makeup is gone, I’m the first one to speak.
“What’s the matter?” I grab both of her hands with mine, squeezing hard.
She squeezes back.
“You can tell me. I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“I keep thinking of these horrible things. These situations. Hypotheticals. Things that could happen. I can’t get myself to stop, and it feels like it’s killing me.” She pulls a hand away to touch her chest. “My heart was racing so fast that I passed out in here. It was just for a second, and I was already going to sit down. But it’s like my mind won’t quit showing me nightmares, but I’m awake.”
Well, fuck. Poor Eliza.
“What else do you feel?”
She rubs her chest, the skin flushed and red. “Like I can’t breathe. Like my lungs are made of cement and can’t move. They’re heavy. Something is wrong with me. I’m sick or something. I’m dying. I’m going to die before I can get married.” The panic gets stronger with each word .
I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her as tight as I can. She’s having a panic attack.
“Eliza, listen to me. You’re not dying. It feels like you’re dying, but you’re not. You’re breathing. Your heart is beating.” She cries into me, almost hyperventilating. “Breathe in, slowly. It’s hard but you have to try.”
I give her a few seconds to get her breathing under control.
“You’re having a panic attack. I get them too, and they do make you feel like you’re dying. But your brain is tricking you.” She goes almost slack around me. I sit back so I can see her face.
“Put your hand on your heart.” I place Eliza’s hand on her chest. “Feel that? Heart beating. Blood pumping. You’re not dying. Now, try to slow your breathing; you’ll feel your heartbeat change.”
My little sister is almost gripping her chest but she does what I say. The panic drips off a little with each breath. I can see her coming back to herself.
“Do you want to tell me what you’re seeing? Or will that make this worse?”
“No, I want to tell someone. I didn’t know how to tell Mitch.” She takes a breath. “It’s like the plane is crashing and I’m on it. A plane crashing into the resort. A tsunami wave hitting us, my family and friends, watching people drown, not being able to save them. And then it’s things like, what would it be like to touch my curling iron? Wrap my fingers around it?” Her eyes move to the floor.
My heart hurts for her. I’m not a professional but I think I know exactly what this is.
“Did something happen to set this off?”
She wipes the back of her eyes with her hands, “The wedding has been stressful. But I expected it. I don’t know what it is, but Mom and Dad are just treating me like… I’m not enough. Like if I don’t follow exactly what they think I should do, it’s wrong. They’re treating me like I’m…”
“Me.” I finish her sentence.
Eliza doesn’t correct me but does keep going.
“And some of my friends, if you can call them that, aren’t any better. They talk bad about Mitch. They have nothing good to say ever. And the amount of questions they’ve asked about you, or Zack, or how you know Willow. Their motives couldn’t be more apparent.”
“Do you want to marry Mitch?”
“Yes. No questions asked.”
“Then do it. That’s what this is all about. Marry Mitch and try to do it your way, but know that at the end of the day, that’s what counts. As far as your friends, sometimes you have to let people go, no matter how long they’ve been around. Then you’ll have room for people who care.”
“What about Mom and Dad?”
I let out a loud laugh. It bounces off the walls and the closed door. Throwing a hand over my mouth, I keep laughing but it’s not nearly as offensive.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any advice, except learning about yourself and setting boundaries. I’m still working on it, and I see a therapist specifically for Mom and Dad.”
Eliza laughs at me, and it’s nice to see her do that, even if the tears are still fresh on her face.
“As far as what you’re seeing, the thoughts? You need to see a doctor. It sounds like intrusive thoughts, a type of OCD, which I have. It’s scary, but learning how to cope is a game changer.”
Eliza and I sit on the floor in the bathroom, and I tell her about my thoughts; about all the wild things that have run through my brain, brought me to my knees on occasion. I tell her about some of the things I do that help. I even tell her about the night with Zack, what happened, how he took care of me.
“You know, when he first came up to Mitch and me at that event, I thought you guys were lying. Like, not actually dating. But I was wrong.”
She’s not the only one.
I keep thinking about how we’re in this gray area. We want each other but it’s still kind of tainted with the fake premise we started with. I want something new and fresh. Something that makes Zack mine.
I look at the time and see that hours have gone by. I get Eliza in her pajamas and go get Mitch from the balcony. I give him the thirty-second version, just so he can help her in the short term.
I hug him and say, “Thank you for taking care of her.”
And he hugs me back.