Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(40)

“I ambushed you?” I took a step forward. “Is that what you think about me? About us? You’re comparing me wanting to live with you to that fucker forcing you to? Is this a real situation right now?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was trying my damnedest to make her happy, to erase what he’d done to her, and she was telling me I was no better than him. How could she even compare us like that?

I took another step toward her, but Ginger put one hand up as a barrier, and the other clutched her chest.

“Yes...no...I...I can’t breathe…” She stumbled forward, clumsily trying to steady herself by reaching for the counter.

My arms went around her in support. I watched in shock and horror as she took huge gasping breaths. Her entire body trembled. What the hell was happening? Picking her up, I carried her over to the couch. Her fists tightened around my shirt when I tried to leave her.

“I need to call 9-1-1.”

She shook her head no. Against my better judgement, I stayed with her, kneeling beside the couch as she clung to me like a lifeline. I focused on being her support. Holding her shaking form as she took rapid breaths, forced me to keep my own breathing under control to get her through whatever the hell this was. Her knuckles were white, tears soaked through my shirt, and I prayed. I sent silent prayers to the heavens for this to stop, and for her to be okay.

The minutes ticked by, and I mentally kicked myself for being such an asshole. I kept my arms wrapped around her. When the trembling stopped, I let out a long, shaky breath. Her grip on my shirt loosened.

“I...I think I’m okay now.” Her voice sounded scratchy. She kept her head down. “You can go.”

“Go? Like hell! I’m not leaving you right now. What just happened?”

“Malcolm, please.”

I placed my hands on either side of her tear-soaked cheeks, making her face me. “You just scared the ever living shit out of me, and you think I’m going to leave?”

She closed her eyes, and fresh tears spilled down her face. “I’m fine.”

My jaw clenched. Taking a slow breath, I spoke, keeping my tone low and gentle. “Calida, stop shutting me out. Please. I’m not the enemy. I promise you.”

She opened her eyes, and looked down at her hands. I watched as she twirled the ring around her finger. “I...had…or have panic attacks.”

Disbelief. A million questions fired through my head. How long had this been going on? How did I not know? Did Macy know? How in the hell had she managed to hide this from me? She had panic attacks, and I’d just triggered one. I sat back against the leather ottoman, watching as she continued to twirl the ring around her finger.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she said softly. “I mostly had them under control but…” she looked up at me, seemingly deciding on if she wanted to continue or not.

“But what?”

“They...they recently started again.”

Recently? As in the one she just had recent? “When?”

She shook her head.

I got up off the floor, and took a seat beside her. My hands covered hers. “When, Ginger?” The look on her face when she gazed up at me sent my stomach into a freefall. “It’s me. I’m the reason they started up again.”

I stood. She needed space. I needed space. Panic attacks. I’d caused her to have panic attacks. Fuck! Macy was right, Ginger wasn’t ready. I was causing her to have a relapse.

When she grabbed my hand, I looked back at her. “It...it’s not you. Not directly anyway. Hard to explain but—”

She was cut off by cries coming over the baby monitor.

I leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Go take care of him. I’m gonna get out of your hair.”

“Malcolm…”

“I’ll call you later.”





Chapter 22


Calida





It had been a strange week. Malcolm had left for a business trip, one he didn’t tell me about until he was already gone. He’d said it was last minute. Ever since he witnessed my panic attack, he’d been backing off. He was running, and why wouldn’t he? I’m sure he wasn’t prepared to see me freak out like that.

The door opened. “Good morning, Calida.”

“Good morning, Dr. Carr.”

I stood, grabbed my purse, and then walked into her office. I woke up feeling uneasy about this session. She knew I was having the attacks again, so I knew she’d bring up going back on the meds at some point. The moment I sat, my knee started to bounce.

“Nervous?”

“No.”

“Okay. What would you like to discuss today?”

I shrugged. “Not much has happened. Dorian is still living with me. I think she enjoys the rent-free aspect and isn’t making a real effort to move. And Malcolm closed on his house. He wants me to decorate it for when I move in with him.”

She took a few notes before asking her question. “How do you feel about that?”

“Which part?”

She smiled. “Whichever you want to talk about first.”

I twirled the ring around my finger. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Malcolm right now. He looked so worried that day, just as he had when he’d seen me in the hospital—both times. I didn’t like worrying him. I was adding unnecessary stress to his life, which was why I tried to avoid the whole relationship thing.