“I wasn’t talking to you,” he snaps, his voice suddenly cruel out of nowhere.
My blood runs cold.
“Cole.” His name leaves me breathlessly, my tone both shocked and angry. I don’t know whether to scold him for his tone or apologize for being the reason he’s drunk and mad. “I’m sorry.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I’m going to go.” I can hear a smile in his voice as he says, “We’re going to play darts. Call you later.”
“Okay. I love?—”
The call clicks off, and my throat suddenly feels like it’s going to close up altogether. Tears well up in my eyes.
What the hell was that?
He’s been distant from time to time, but nothing ever like that. That was just … someone else entirely. The ache in my chest reminds me of a roller coaster, the cart guiding me through highs and lows of anxiety, guilt, and anger, unsure of where to land.
He could have at least said he loved me. I know he’s upset right now, and I can understand where he’s coming from, I just wish he’d express it better. We’re both going to have to get healthier at communication, moving forward.
My eyes burn, and I fight the sensation away as fast as possible. I’m not crying right now. I don’t have time for it. I just want to get unpacked and settled into my new home before breaking down for the first time in it.
But the overwhelming emotion fights back and spreads down my throat and chest. My back hits the door as the room shrinksby the second, and I slide down onto the floor, tucking my knees up into my chest.
The floor starts to spin as my head gets lighter and lighter.
No, please don’t spiral. Just take a deep breath and calm down. Everything will be okay.
Inhaling as deep as possible, I fill my lungs in jagged bursts as I start to hyperventilate. Out of nowhere, it’s like I’m gone. One minute, I was talking to Hannah, and the next, I’m curled up behind the door, victim to my mind and the demons that haunt it.
Invisible fingers squeeze around my neck, wrapping tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe. I grab the invisible hand, pulling it as hard as possible but it doesn’t budge.
Tears burst from my emotional dam and stream down my face.
Oh God, I can feel it all over again. I can feel his hands all over me, branding me.
My heavy breaths sound through the air, filling the room around me as hope seems to dwindle further away. I need to get control of myself and stop this panic attack. But I don’t even feel in control of my body in the slightest, just like I didn’t that day. He’s back, and he has me and …
I gasp for air, my lungs shriveling up inside of me like raisins as I attempt to pry his grasp from my soul. I need a reset button, something to jump-start my nervous system because, clearly, nothing else is working right now.
Without giving myself time to think or question the idea that appears, I stand on my feet and run toward the bathroom in the hallway, remembering the set up from my virtual tour. Throwing the curtain open, I start the shower and keep the water oncold. I don’t bother to take a single thing off before stepping into the tub and forcing myself under the freezing cold stream.
The second the arctic water hits me, I suck in a breath, feeling like my body is going into shock. But it’s the drastic temperature change that’s going to pull me from the cage in my mind.
I stand beneath the forceful flow, feeling it soak into my hair, my T-shirt, leggings, undergarments, and shoes, coating me in a protective layer, and before I know it, the only reason I’m quivering is because of the temperature and not from the panic attack.
After another minute or two, I shut the water off and strip in the shower, leaving my clothes in a sopping pile in the tub as I step out and wrap the complimentary robe around me. I bundle myself up like a hug before walking back out to where my suitcases wait for me.
For a moment, I just stare at the room. The new leather couches, the warm hardwood floors, and the plush rug that runs down the entryway toward the door.
Am I too in over my head? Was this all a terrible idea that I never should’ve chased?
Someone’s door slams in the hallway, startling me out of the never-ending questions.
I whisper to myself an affirmation to remind my mind, “You are safe. You are safe. You are safe.”
It takes a few more times for my brain to believe me, but eventually, my breathing evens out, and my body fully calms.
You know what sounds good right now? A cup of hot chocolate. Lord knows caffeine is the last thing I need for this anxiety.
I quickly pull some clean, dry clothes from my luggage and change, slipping on one of my other pairs of sneakers. I can unpack and settle in later. Right now, I think not being alone is the best thing I can do—at least for a little while.
