Chapter 40
He looked the same with salt-and-pepper hair and intense dark brown eyes. He wore a dress shirt and a tie. He looked the exact same as he did a few months ago. The only thing missing was his white lab coat.
My fingers went numb as I tried to grip my pen, the room closing in around me. My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear Dr. Pike’s voice over the beat. My chest felt like someone was squeezing it too tightly, and it seemed impossible to draw in a full breath.
“Hope?” Jay asked beside me, his hand coming down gently on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t respond. The numbness was spreading to my tongue and face.
Jay’s eyes widened with alarm as he noticed my uneven breathing and the frozen look in my eyes. “Hope, what’s wrong?” he asked urgently, trying to get my attention.
The room started to spin, and I felt like I might actually pass out if I stayed there any longer. Without another word, I hurried out of my chair and bolted for the door, my legs moving on autopilot. I heard Jay calling after me, but his voice was muffled and distant, lost amidst my panic.
I pushed through the doors and stumbled into the lobby, but it wasn’t far enough. I continued down a series of hallways until I reached another set of doors. I had no idea where they led. I just knew I had to get farther away from that awful man in the assembly hall.
I found myself in a side garden, the sound of trickling water permeating the chilly, humid air.
The garden was surrounded by tall stone walls covered in climbing vines. A scenic pool lay at the center, several small waterfalls gently cascading into it, creating a soothing atmosphere I might’ve appreciated if I could focus on anything other than my desperate need to breathe.
I leaned against the cool stone wall, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The sun was blurred behind the clouds, and the air was chilly at this altitude.
I found myself shivering. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart, folding my arms across myself to keep warm and to hold myself together as I felt like I was falling apart.
Moments later, I heard footsteps approaching, and Jay’s voice echoed across the courtyard.
“Hope? Where are you?”
I didn’t have the energy to respond. I slid down the wall and sat on the soft grass, leaning against the stone.
Jay rounded the corner and spotted me. Relief washed over his face as he ran toward me.
“Hey,” he said gently, kneeling beside me. “You’re okay. I’m here… respira.”
I nodded weakly, shocked to find tears streaming down my face. Jay’s warm hands cupped my cheeks, wiping the tears away as they fell.
“In and out,” he instructed softly. “Slowly.”
I followed his lead, focusing on the rhythmic sound of the water trickling nearby and Jay’s steady presence. Gradually, my breathing became less labored, and the tightness in my chest began to ease.
“That’s it,” Jay murmured. “You’re okay.”
I wiped at my tears, embarrassed but grateful. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
Jay shook his head, his jaw clenching. “I’m assuming that was the Dr. Pike you worked with?”
I nodded, lifting my hand to wipe away the last of my tears. Slowly, my heart rate returned to normal, and the numbness eased from my face.
“I feel so weak having a reaction like that,” I admitted, running a hand down my face. “I feel like he’s won somehow every time I have an attack.”
Jay reached out and took my hand, helping me stand.
“You don’t get to choose how your body responds to trauma,” he said. “Anxiety has a way of needing to work its way out. That doesn’t make you weak.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes.
His fingers slipped beneath my chin, gently lifting my face until I looked up at him.
“We’re done with the conference tonight,” he said suddenly.
I blinked. “But I need the hours.”
“I know,” he said firmly. “You’ll get them. We have more classes in the morning.”
I hesitated. “But, Jay—”
His hand fell away from my chin. “You’re not going back in there right now, Hope.”
The certainty in his voice made my chest ache again. If I were being honest, I really didn’t want to return.
“Come on,” Jay said, already turning toward the hotel. “We’re checking in.”
We returned to the front desk, and the woman who had greeted us earlier smiled when she saw us approach.
“Checking in?”
“Yes,” Jay said. “Reservation under Alarcón.”
She nodded and began typing on her computer. “One moment, please.”
A few minutes went by, filled only by the sound of her fingers tapping against the keyboard.
After a few more minutes, when nothing happened, I started to feel a sliver of impatience. I really just wanted to get into my room so I could shower and shake off the whole seeing Dr. Pike thing. What was taking so long?
The front desk woman’s smile faltered, morphing into something tighter.
“I’m so sorry,” she finally said. “It looks like there’s been an issue with the reservation.”
Jay’s brow furrowed. “What kind of issue?”
“Well,” she said carefully, “your booking isn’t showing two rooms. We’ve had some issues through one of the third-party sites, and it looks like it’s saying you only booked one.”
“Can I book another room now?” Jay asked.
“With the conference this week, I’m afraid we don’t have any more rooms available. I’ve checked our system, and I’ve refreshed it twice. Unfortunately, one room is all we have under your reservation.” The woman looked a little pale.
I felt disappointment thread through me, and I started to prepare myself for a long drive back to Big Bear and stifled a groan.
Jay sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Is there a couch? A chair?”
The woman hesitated. “The room is a king,” she said. “But there is a small pull-out sofa.”
Jay exhaled slowly, then turned to me. “Do you want to drive home?”
I shook my head immediately. “Not really…”
He turned back to the desk. “We’ll take it.”
I blinked. “Jay—”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa bed,” he said calmly, as if it had never been in question. “You’ll take the bed.”
I sucked in a breath. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”
The woman smiled, visibly relieved, and began printing the key cards. “Again, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”