Staying true to another preaccident habit, Rupert stood between Jodi and the platform edge, shielding him from the backdraft of a couple of passing trains.
“So,” he tried again. “How was your appointment yesterday?”
“Don’t you already know? Thought the hospital had you and Sophie on speed dial.”
Rupert suppressed a sigh. Despite Jodi’s apparent disinterest, he often seemed irritated when he caught Rupert and Sophie talking about his recovery. “Why don’t you tell me how it was for you?”
“It was bullshit. They made me play poker and write a shopping list at the same time. Like a trip to Sainsbury’s will fix everything.”
“You might be right there,” Rupert said. “You never went shopping anyway. We got that shit delivered.”
“Yeah?” Jodi’s expression brightened for a fleeting moment. “Does that mean I don’t have to go to that stupid bloody occupational therapy bollocks?”
“’Fraid not. We can’t afford Ocado anymore.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Rupert’s reply was muffled by their train pulling into the station, and Jodi had blanked out by the time the noise faded. Relieved, Rupert gripped Jodi’s arm again and guided him on, positioning him with his back against the wall, Rupert between him and the other commuters. The train rumbled. Jodi jumped, clearly startled. Rupert welcomed it, though he felt bad for doing so. Any animation was better than none. “So, did you do much else in the session?”
“Hmm?”
“The OT,” Rupert repeated. “What else did you do?”
“Oh, er, nothing really.” Jodi’s gaze darted around as the train moved out of the station.
Rupert frowned. Jodi hadn’t had any seizures at home yet, but he’d fast learned in the hospital that a jittery gaze was one of the warning signs. He checked Jodi for flushed cheeks and a slackening jaw. Jodi did look warm, but if anything his awareness, rather than slipping under the wave of an oncoming seizure, seemed more heightened than Rupert had seen since the accident. He took in Jodi’s clenched fists and restless arms, the quickening rise and fall of his chest, and the anxiety growing in his roaming gaze.
Against his better judgement, he touched Jodi’s face, barely grazing the dark beard that had replaced the trendy stubble he’d sported before. “Still with me?”
It was a loaded question that Jodi would probably never understand, but as his terrified eyes met Rupert’s, the weight of all they’d lost suddenly didn’t matter. Most days, it was hard to remember that Jodi’s glare didn’t necessarily reflect what was going on inside his head—or his heart, please, God, his heart—but the fear in his gaze now was unmistakable. Rupert knew a brewing panic attack when he saw one.
The train picked up speed. Jodi inhaled sharply and flattened himself against the wall. Rupert moved his hand to Jodi’s chest. Jodi’s racing heart battered his palm as Jodi squeezed his eyes shut.
“Jodi, look at me.”
Jodi shook his head.
Rupert took a chance and grabbed his hand. “Come on, boyo. It’s okay. I can help you.”
Jodi opened his eyes. For the first time in months, his gaze was as electric as Rupert remembered it when he lay awake at night, blocking out the present and drowning in the past—Jodi laughing hysterically at his own daft jokes, or bubbling with glee at a prank he’d played, or climbing all over Rupert and demanding to be fucked, loved, and owned from the inside out—but the fire in Jodi’s dark eyes now wasn’t love or laughter, or desire. It was pure terror, and Rupert had no idea why.
“Squeeze my hands,” he said quietly. “Focus on me and let go of the breath you’re holding.”
Jodi made a strangled noise, a classic sign of someone fighting the urge to suck in a lungful of air they didn’t need. A gasp they’d already taken and forgotten about as waves of crippling panic took hold.
Rupert found Jodi’s hands again. “Let it go. Come on. Let it go and I’ll show you how to breathe.”
Whether Jodi truly believed him, Rupert would never know, but after what felt like a lifetime, he blew out a shaky breath.
“That’s it,” Rupert said. “Now breathe in, nice and slow, not too much.”
It took a few attempts for Jodi to remaster the art of inhaling and exhaling at a pace that brought a little colour back to his cheeks. His shoulders relaxed, and his wide eyes drooped as exhaustion set in. Slowly but surely, his fingers tightened around Rupert’s.
Rupert’s heart leapt. He swallowed thickly and dampened it down. “There you go. Just keep breathing. Don’t think about anything else.”
Jodi opened his mouth. Shut it again. Took another breath. “Thank you. I—”
The train jolted, sending Jodi flying into Rupert’s chest. Rupert stumbled backward as the lights went off, cloaking them in darkness.
