I can feel a cold sweat on my brow. When we found out about Alana’s pregnancy, I was able to excuse myself and process - do some fucking breathing exercises or something. I had privacy to get myself together. I try to take a calming breath and glance around at the crowd now all cheering and celebrating. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, trying to remind myself thatthis isn’t about me.This isn’t about me and my stupid choices.Guilt slices through my chest. I should be happy for them.
This. Isn’t. About. Me.
“Bea?” Zyntarr turns my body in his arms and ducks down so that we’re face-to-face. I try to smile, but this strange sob-hiccup threatens to break loose until I can swallow it back down. I’m pretty sure I just look like a crazy person right now.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m really happy for them.” I… I really don’t want that last part to be a lie.
‘Selfish, selfish girl!’
I shake that voice from my head and think I actuallydo force asmile then, but all I can see is my mother’s angry face.Fuck, she was so, so angry that day, and for days and days after.
And I was so, so scared.
“You are not fine.”
Before I know it, my feet are being lifted from the ground, and I feel strong arms holding my weight at my back and under my knees. “Move,” Zyntarr growls at the Trixikka males who are still too in awe at Rynn and Serena’s happy news.
Happy news. Itishappy, Bea. Get a hold of yourself for Christ’s sake!
Normally, I think I would protest at being picked up without warning, but I close my eyes and work on my breathing, trying to concentrate on filling my lungs with calm, and giving in to the gentle sway of Zyntarr’s footsteps as he carries me away from the crowd.
It’s not really working, though.
I open my eyes once Zyntarr sets my feet back on the ground. We’re by the cookfire again. Further from the excited crowd. “What is wrong?” he asks, his big hands on my shoulders, holding me captive in front of him. “And do not lie to me this time, little Bea.” The words are firm, but he says them soft andlow, punctuated by the way he reaches up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear.
“I will be fine.” It’s not a lie this time. I will be. It’s just a stupid reaction to something that is dredging up bad memories is all. “I-I will be. It’s just-”
‘Stupid little lustful girl thinking she’s all grown. Well, now your father and I have to fix your mess, don’t we?’
I squeeze my eyes shut tight - as if that could ward off the ghosts of my past.
Again, my stupid efforts to stop that tidal wave from breaking over my head are all in vain.
‘I knew you were spending too much time with that Smith boy. Is that what you were doing all those times you said you were studying?’
I can’t get a hold of my breathing.
‘He won’t marry you, Beatrice. You know that, don’t you? You can’t be having a child out of wedlock. Not under my roof! You’d just be another statistic - another dirty girl thinking she’s all grown!’
My heart is thudding so hard behind my ribs.
‘You? Raise the bastard on your own? Don’t be stupid, child!’
I swear I can smell my mother’s stale breath like she were here, right now, shouting in my face all over again for ruining her life.
‘No, Beatrice, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’ll go away to your Aunt’s. It’s quiet there. No busy-bodies around to notice you getting bigger. And then when it’s time, you’ll-’
“Bea.”
That voice. That deep, gentle voice. I follow it like a siren’s call and open my eyes.
It’s dark here where I am. I’m-… I’m kneeling on that strange white alien grass. For a brief moment, I wonder if it’s suddenly night-time, but no - I’m completely enveloped in Zyntarr’s darkwings this time, his stars sparkling like jeweled constellations. And he’s here, right in front of me, kneeling too, my face cradled in both of his big, warm hands. “Breathe,” he murmurs before demonstrating with a large inhale through his nose. “You must slow your breathing, Bea.”
A panic attack. I’m having a panic attack. I don’t even think I’d even realized that I’d started to spiral, I just-… it swept me away so quickly.
I do as he says and concentrate on matching his big inhales and slow exhales. Zyntarr’s bright blue eye never leaves me as he tips forward and gently rests his forehead on mine.
Inhale…. exhale… inhale… exhale…
