This is why I never do interviews, I think, and wrap my arm around Paige.
CHAPTER 60
RAFE
I lead Paige through the garden. She’s trembling, and her breath is coming shallow and fast. These attacks are coming way too often. She told me it was something that happened sometimes. But now it’s been weeks and she’s had three, just around me.
My jaw grinds together.
Something in her life has changed recently. It’s not hard to pinpoint what it is.
We walk out onto the dock. Near the water that she loves so much, beneath the warm Italian sun, I hold her while she starts to cry.
Breathe, I tell her.In and out. In and out.I stroke over her long blonde hair. The interviewer better not mention any of this. I have no doubt Karim is already handling all of that.
She cries.
But she doesn’t sob so hard it sounds like she’s breaking apart, and she doesn’t sound like she can’t breathe. I revel in those small things. The lack of panic amidst all the sadness.
I hold her against me. “Those questions were out of line,” I mutter against her temple.
She shakes her head. “I just wasn’t… I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“They weren’t preapproved.”
“It was just, the question… what would my parents think about this? As if I don’t wonder that every single day?” Her voice cracks. “How am I meant to answer that?”
“You don’t have to. Fucking reporters. We won’t do another one of those.”
“But we need… we need good press. For the lawsuit. And my uncle. And?—”
“Paige,” I say again, my chest tight. “I’ll handle it. Don’t think about that. You don’t have to answer her questions.”
I lean back and smooth my thumbs over her cheeks. They’re tracked with tears, and she looks up at me without any of the ire we lobbied at each other just hours ago. “This happens when you feel trapped. Like you told me the other week. Right?”
“Sometimes. Yes.”
I smooth over her back and think about that. The interview. The question about her family.
Has it all been about her family?
The first one was the day after I told her what her uncle had done to my sister. The second after he confronted her. And now… questions about her parents’ accident.
She peers up at the sky, looking miserable. “This is the worst,” she says. “I was still angryat you. I planned to go to bed in really sexy lingerie tonight to get back at you, and instead I’m the one wrecked and… sobbing.”
That makes my lips twitch. “There’s still time. And it’s okay to fall apart. You’ve seen me at night.”
She buries her head in her hands, and her shoulders curve inwards. I hate the sight.
“When did it start?” I ask. “The panic attacks?”
Tears seep out from behind her hands. I don’t think she’sgoing to answer me. But I keep stroking her hair and feel her breathing steady against me.
“When I was in college,” she murmurs. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“And I didn’t want to talk to you about… my brother. The other night.”
“Did it help?”
