“Can you go get me some water?” I asked, voice cracking.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“He’s not alone,” Marshall said from the doorway, a bottle of water in hand. He untwisted the cap and extended it to me. I took it and guzzled the whole thing in less than three gulps.
“And who are you?” Lincoln snapped.
I smiled down at my lap, appreciating the way he was ready to defend me at a moment’s notice.
“I know him,” I promised my best friend.
“From where?”
“Work.” I flicked a glance up at Marshall, who didn’t look concerned in the least that I was who I was and he was who he was, and that we’d just gone through this shared experience together. He did look concerned, though. Just…about me.
“Work,” he confirmed.
I gave Lincoln as much of an honest smile as I could manage, but his coddling was the absolute last thing I wanted.
“I’m fine, Lincoln,” I said again, willing it to be true. “What happened to Riot?”
My best friend looked at me like I’d asked him if pigs could fly.
“He went to the bathroom.”
The flush on Lincoln’s cheeks confirmed justwhyRiot had scampered off for a quick dose of privacy.
“Go find him then.” I nudged him until he reluctantly stood up from the cushion beside me. “I promise I’m okay. Go have fun, and I’ll come find you in a few minutes. I need to…”
I trailed off, because if I told him I needed to be alone with Marshall, he wouldn’t go. The guilt was eating him up, but I didn’t have it in me to convince him this wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t his problem.
“I’ll stay with him,” Marshall said, which seemed to give Lincoln some ease.
He took a tentative step toward the door, and then another.
“I won’t leave this spot until you come back.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Marshall confirmed.
Lincoln either believed us or knew arguing would get him nowhere. With one last look, he left me and Marshall alone in the private playroom, and he took all of the air with him. I sucked in a breath, dropping my elbows against my knees. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to come apart.
Marshall took the seat Lincoln had vacated, and he settled one strong hand on my knee, the other on my spine.
“You’re here, Silas,” he said, drawing a circle on my back with his palm. “All you have to do is breathe. Can you breathe?”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
“Just one. In through the nose, okay? We’ll do it together.”
I tilted my head to look up at Marshall, who had his shoulders up near his ears like he was ready to take a breath. I managed a nod, blinked back tears, then breathed in through my nose. We exhaled together, and without being asked, repeated and repeated and repeated. His presence was a stronger salve than anything I’d ever experienced before, and I wondered how I’d never picked up on him before. In all of our meetings, all our business engagements…I’d never even thought of Marshall in a place like this, but if asked, he’d probably say the same about me.
I pushed back until I hit the couch, the stretch of his forearm across my shoulders like a shock blanket. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I swallowed back the last lingering threads of panic, then blinked back the tears I’d refused to shed.
I was fine.
I wasfine.
“What do you need, Silas?” Marshall asked me softly, after it no longer hurt to fill my lungs. His voice was so quiet, he had to be so close to my ear to hear him over the drumbeat, and he was so strong, so warm…so very safe.
