It takes everything I’ve got not to punch that slimy bastard. The moment Bill started swearing, I could see things were going downhill and that Joslyn was beginning to struggle. After our last conversation at the diner, I’m hyper aware of her reactions, so I noticed her rapid breathing as soon as she started to tense up.
When he got up and began to move toward us, I knew it was time for him to leave. He was beyond rational thought, and the last thing Joslyn needed was another angry man coming at her. I was already moving forward to protect her before I even had a chance to think.
Not on my watch, dickhead.
I manage to get him out the door, but as I turn around, Joslyn collapses in her chair. I rush toward her, but Debra, the HR lady, sprints past me and out of the conference room. I’m impressed; she’s quite spry for her age.
“I quit! This job is the worst!” she cries, disappearing out the door and down the hallway.
More personnel problems. Wonderful.
I don’t even bother to go after her. At this point, the old guard is dropping like flies. It’s for the best, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. Instead, I shut the door behind her and turn my attention to Jos. Shewouldn’t want anyone to see her like this. She takes such pride in how she presents herself in the office.
Her breathing is rapid and shallow, and her eyes are distant and unfocused. With shaking hands, she rubs her thighs, trying to soothe herself. Looking at the sweat on her brow, I can see she’s having a panic attack. It’s a familiar feeling. I’d had several on my journey to sobriety. They aren’t fun.
I kneel next to her, being careful not to touch her. Some people don’t like touch when they’re panicking, so I’m trying to respect her space.
“Jos. Jos, honey. I need you to breathe for me. Nice and slow. Deep breaths.” I coax.
She doesn’t respond right away, but she leans toward me, seeking comfort. I can’t help but reach out to her, rubbing her arms in what I hope is a reassuring rhythm. She startles at my touch and looks up at me. Her eyes come into focus, then widen as she grabs my biceps, squeezing them hard.
“Can’t… breathe. Damon.” I can hear the fear in her voice and see the distress on her face.
“I know, honey, I know. It’s going to be okay. I need you to breathe with me. I’ve got you.” I hold her gaze, knowing I need to remain calm and steady and be her safe space. Yup, it’s not my first time dealing with a panic attack.
I keep guiding her through the deep breathing until she’s able to take a deep breath, and her heartbeat starts to slow. I want to pull her into my lap and hold her close. I want to tell her I’ll handle all the bad situations from now on, so she doesn’t have to. I want so badly to make it better for her.
“It’s okay. I got you,” I croon, caressing her arms and back. Still holding on to my arms, she continues with her deep breathing.
I can tell when she comes back to herself. She stiffens slightly, and I pull my hands away, but she leans forward, pulling me closer. Then, thetears start, and it’s such a relief. Expelling all that emotion will be cathartic. Sure, it’s embarrassing as hell, but I know from experience it helps, so I keep up with my reassuring caresses.
“Oh God, I can’t believe that happened. I totally lost it. Jesus, I’m the owner. I can’t lose it! I’m the person in charge, Damon. I can’t be the one falling apart.” Her voice starts to ramp up again, and I see the alarm flicker in her beautiful eyes. She doesn’t need to spiral herself up again.
“Jos, it’s going to be okay. No one saw anything, I promise. I shut the door before anything happened. I got you, honey.” I keep my voice even and calm.
“I-I-I c-c-can’t stop sh-shaking.” Her teeth start to chatter, and it breaks me. I can’t stop myself. I don’t even try. I need to hold her like I need air. I stand, pulling her up to me, and folding her tightly against me. She clings to me desperately, and I sigh at how right it feels having her in my arms. I gently walk her toward a chair and sit, pulling her onto my lap. My God, it feels incredible to be able to hold her, and now, I never want to let her go. My whole body is tingling with warmth, loving that she’s letting me be her refuge. Letting me take care of her.
I rub circles into her back, murmuring into her ear, reassuring her it’s going to be alright. Finally, she stops shaking after what seems like an hour, but is probably only ten minutes. This time, she doesn’t stiffen, sinking deeper into my embrace instead. I brush her damp curls out of her eyes and tuck them safely behind her ear. She’s so perfect, cuddled up against me. I could stay like this forever, holding her.
We stay locked together for a while until she eventually pulls away enough to look up at me. Her face is pale, and those beautiful gray eyes have lost their spark. I can tell she’s exhausted, but to me, she’ll always look gorgeous. I remember how tired I used to be after the panic subsided. I’ll do anything I can to help her through this.
“Hey, what do you say we call it a day, huh? Let me take you back to my place, and you can relax. Maybe have a glass of wine while I cook you dinner? We can just relax for the evening. Plenty of time to deal with this tomorrow, okay?”
Her eyes flutter closed for a second, and I wait, letting her get comfortable with the idea of me taking care of her. I’m well aware I’m not just crossing the line, I’m sprinting over it. But the idea of leaving her alone after her panic attack feels so damn wrong. I’m not sure I could physically do it, so I hope she accepts my offer. Taking a deep breath, she opens her eyes, and I can see it. She needs this as much as I do.
Giving me a slight nod, she asks, “What’s for dinner?”
I can’t help the victorious grin that spreads across my face, and it feels like I’ve just scored the winning goal in OT.
“How about scallops and pasta? Sound good?”
“That sounds like heaven,” she responds with a small smile.
“Good. I’m pretty good in the kitchen.”
“Perfect. I don’t think I could cook right now if I wanted to. What about my car?” she asks in a quiet voice.
It sounds like a half-hearted attempt to come up with a final excuse. Well, I’m not giving her one. This is my chance to show her how a phenomenal woman like her is supposed to be treated, because I’m sure she’s never received the kind of treatment she deserves.
