“That’s good.Again.”
His hand rose.I breathed in, a little deeper this time.His hand lowered.I breathed out.
“Keep going.Count along.In for four.”His hand rose in a steady, measured movement.“One.Two.Three.Four.”
I counted in silence, lungs expanding a little more on each number.
“Hold for four.”His hand stayed level.“One.Two.Three.Four.”
My chest ached, but I held the breath.
“Out for four.”His hand lowered.“One.Two.Three.Four.”
Air left my lungs in a controlled stream.
We repeated the pattern.Again.And again.His hand moved through the same calm rhythm, his voice counting low and even, never rushing, never showing impatience.Gradually, the spots at the edges of my vision faded.Shadows settled.My heart slowed from a frantic sprint to something almost normal.
“Better?”Ace asked.
I nodded.Actually nodded this time, the movement small but real.
His hand moved then, not toward me but hovering in the space between us.Offering.“Can I help you up?”
I looked at the calluses formed by years of hard work.I saw the way his palm stayed open, waiting for permission instead of taking without asking.Something in my chest loosened, just a fraction.
I reached out and placed my hand in his.
His hand felt warm.The first thing my mind registered as his fingers closed around mine was the heat of his palm against skin gone cold from shock.Instead of letting him pull me up, I gave his hand a gentle tug.“Why don’t you sit?”
He sank down beside me, our shoulders almost touching in the narrow space behind the bar.I looked around at the mess and knew I should be cleaning.I should grab the broom and dustpan and deal with the shards of broken bottles before someone -- before Ace -- stepped on one.But my body refused to move.Not yet.
Silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable exactly, but heavy from something unspoken.He had watched me fall apart, as I huddled on the floor, hyperventilating over a sound that probably didn’t register for him beyond background noise.I owed some kind of explanation, even if the full story stayed locked behind my teeth.
“I’m sorry.”The words came out rough, scraped raw by the panic that had closed my throat.
“Don’t be.”
“I made a mess.I should have --”
“Marci.”He said my name quietly, and something in his tone made me stop.“You don’t owe me an apology for being scared.”
I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.The position made me smaller, yet a hint of safety settled over me.“The siren.I just… something inside me snapped.”
“I figured.”
Red light pulsed again, washing both of us in shades of warning.My gaze drifted to the broken glass while I searched for the right words.Ones explaining enough without exposing too much.Ones giving him understanding without placing him in danger.
“I had a boyfriend.”My voice barely rose above a whisper, but in the quiet of the empty bar, the sound carried.“He… he disliked any attempt I made to leave.”
Ace didn’t respond, didn’t move.Just sat there beside me, solid and present, giving me space to continue.
“The first time, he found me in three days.Showed up at the motel where I was staying, convinced the manager to let him in.Said I was sick, needed help, and he was so worried.”The memory tasted bitter.“He was always good at making people believe him, at seeming reasonable and concerned while I was the one who looked crazy.”
My fingers dug into my arms, nails pressing crescents into skin through my sleeves.“The second time, I lasted almost a week.Different state, different name.He tracked my credit card, though.Showed up at my work with smiles and flowers, asking my boss if he’d seen his fiancée.Told everyone I had suffered a breakdown and needed help.”
“But you weren’t engaged.”Ace’s voice stayed low and controlled, yet an edge slipped through.
“No.”I shook my head.“We dated for eight months.I tried to end the relationship after six, once I realized he checked my phone and followed me to places I never mentioned.Trouble started then.”
