As soon as the food is in front of everyone, they stare at me. My heart thuds, and I pull on the back of my neck. I’d tap my cap in times like these, but I left it in my room for the same reason I need to talk to my family. It’s time to embrace my future.
But what if I’m not as improved as I believe? What if this triggers something?
Rosie squeezes my knee.
I take a breath and scan the expectant faces of my family.
“Eat then,” I crow.
I don’t do confrontation with my dad. I usually try to work things out behind the scenes, but it’s time I spoke to my parents about the last years, and with Rosie by my side, I’m sure I can.
They tuck into their meals as they study me. I push my vegetables around my plate to avoid eye contact. “Last year, when I left here and made Senna team boss, I flew to Greece and stayed in a villa for over eight months.”
“The whole time?” Senna asks.
I nod. “I didn’t leave my rented villa at all. I stayed safe and away from people.”
“Why?” Mum asks.
“Because I have health anxiety.”
Dad leans back in his chair. “But?—”
My mum hushes him. “Please continue, sweetheart,” she adds with a soft smile.
“My health anxiety hasn’t gone away, although it’s better than it was. You think I ran away because of the crash and I was scared to drive. But it was what happened after, when I was in the hospital and I got that virus. I was sure I’d die. There were so many nurses and tubes and injections.”
My chest tightens as I attempt to breathe through the memories, but they keep coming.
“The smell of that place, the sound of those voices and people rushing around me as my temperature climbed and the virus ravaged me”—Rosie slides a finger across my knee under the table as I drop my head and count to five—“coupled with the after-effects of the virus, like fatigue and headaches—I was in a bad place. Then Dad had his heart attack, and I lost it. Once we knew he was okay, I travelled somewhere I could control and where people couldn’t make me ill again.”
My mum covers her mouth, and Connor sits back and stares at me.
“But I continued to be terrified I’d get ill again. I’d smell that place, and I’d have panic attacks. I needed my villa deep-cleaned weekly, even though it was only me and the cleaners in it. I’d constantly sanitise until my hands were red and raw. The terror was beyond anything I’d experienced. I’d had a relatively easy life doing what I wanted up until the crash, but suddenly every day was filled with panic that I’d never be okay again and one wrong move could drag me closer to illness and death.”
Mum’s eyes brim with tears. Senna offers her a tissue as she dabs her own eyes.
“Isthat why you haven’t wanted to hug me or others?” Senna asks, a tear rolling down her cheek. I nod. “I thought I’d done something to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “No, never. I couldn’t touch any of you without terror.”
“But you’re okay with Rosie,” Connor says, staring at where my hand intertwines with Rosie’s.
She pulls away, but I ease her back, and she relaxes against me. “I went out one night towards the end of my time in Greece to a local bar, where I met her. I don’t know if it’s because she had no expectations of me or that she listened and cared in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time, but she gave me the confidence to face some of my fears and return home.”
“That was because of you?” Mum asks her.
“Yes. It was all her,” I confirm.
“I can’t thank you enough for bringing my Niki home,” Mum says between sniffles.
“Rosie helped me face some of the stuff I’ve needed to deal with this year. I’m seeing a counsellor, a psychologist, who’s made a massive difference, hence the haircut and lack of cap.” I rub my buzz cut, relishing its rough texture.
I look at my dad and freeze. His eyes are glassy with unspent tears.
“Dad?”
“I’m sorry, Niki.” He clears his throat and clenches his jaw. He clears his throat again. “I’m hard work.”
