My breath hitches. “I don’t want you to leave.”
He pulls me against him, and I rest my forehead on his chest. “I’m not leaving, Holly. I will stay.”
Stay.
He’s going to stay.
I savor that word. That sentence, and everything he just said as I regulate my body to his calmness.
Panic drains from me, and my racing heart calms.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his chest. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a panic attack like this, and in front of someone. Thank you for helping me handle it.”
Mateo rubs circles on my back, his voice a quiet rumble. “I did researchon how to help after I found out you have anxiety. I figured there might be a panic attack or two in our future. I just didn’t think it would happen after I said I loved you.”
My hand fists his shirt as I cringe.
Mental health struggles have horrible timing.
“I’m sorry.”
I feel more than see his head moving. “Don’t apologize, mi vida. You have your reasons, and they’re valid. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I can be patient for you.”
My heart races for an entirely different reason now.
I channel Holly from earlier, who braved the death bike, and look up into Mateo’s face. “I like you, Mateo. I like you a lot. It scares me. I’m scared, but I don’t want to be. I don’t know how to stop. I think it might just take me some time before I’m ready.”
Mateo leans down, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I can give you all the time in the world, mi amor.”
My hand comes up and cradles his jaw, my fingers skimming over his trimmed beard. I take in the face of the man I’m too scared to tell I’m in love with. This gentle, kind, patient man is everything in a husband I didn’t realize I needed, and I send up a silent prayer of thanks for being blessed with him in my life.
I reach up and pull his face down to mine, kissing him with all the feelings I can’t express… yet.
Chapter 39
Serious Talks
Holly
The ceiling in the master bedroom is a plain white color. It’s textured, but has nothing else to distinguish itself.
I’ve been staring at it for an hour. I would know if there was anything interesting up there.
Mateo took pity on me after my panic attack and our subsequent kissing session, and brought me back to his house after our ride. It’s a good thing too because I’m exhausted.
Having feelings is exhausting.
But the problem is, I can’t sleep.
My mind runs marathons trying to understand why I couldn’t say I loved Mateo back, dodging all my thoughts and fears about the future—how I want to quit my job, and then reliving every amazing kiss between me and my husband.
Like wow.
If only reliving kisses could keep away the other thoughts. Unfortunately, my brain isn’t a ninja at dodging negative thoughts. Trust me, I’ve been training it for years, but it fails more often than it succeeds.
My phone rings, interrupting the marathon of overthinking and breaksthrough my analysis paralysis.
Rodney’s name flashes on the caller ID.
