“Hey.” He crouched down in front of her, keeping his voice gentle. “What’s going on?”
“I said I’m fine.” But even as she said it, her breathing was too fast. Too shallow. Her hands trembled where they gripped her knees.
Panic attack. Carson recognized the signs immediately.
“Okay,” he said, keeping his tone calm and authoritative. “I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”
She shook her head, gasping. “I can’t—I can’t breathe—”
“Yes, you can. Look at me, Nora. Right at me.”
Her eyes locked on his, terrified and unfocused.
“Good. Now breathe in through your nose. Slow. Four counts.” Carson demonstrated, holding her gaze. “In. Two. Three. Four. Hold it. Two. Three. Four. Now out. Two. Three. Four.”
She tried to follow, her breath hitching and stuttering.
“Again,” Carson said firmly. “You can do this. In. Two. Three. Four.”
They breathed together, Carson matching her rhythm until it started to slow. Until the panic in her eyes began to recede.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “You’re doing great. Keep going.”
After several minutes, her breathing steadied. The trembling in her hands eased. But tears still tracked down her cheeks, and she looked utterly exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just—I couldn’t stop thinking about Eugene breaking into my apartment. About that message on my wall. About how he’s still out there, looking for me, and I’m just hiding here like a coward—”
“Stop.” Carson’s voice was firm. “You’re not a coward. You’re smart. You’re surviving.”
“I don’t feel like I’m surviving. I feel like I’m falling apart.”
Without thinking, Carson sat down beside her on the cold bathroom floor and pulled her against his chest. She went willingly, pressing her face into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her.
She was so small against him. So fragile. It made every protective instinct in his body flare to life.
“You’re not falling apart,” he said quietly. “You’re dealing with trauma. With fear. With a situation that would break most people. But you’re still here. Still fighting. That takes strength.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“You are.” Carson’s hand moved to her back, rubbing slow circles. “You reported what was happening even though no one believed you. Youtrusted your instincts. You’re helping me build the case against Eugene. You’re doing everything right, Nora.”
She was quiet for a moment, just breathing against his chest. Carson could feel her heartbeat slowly returning to normal. Could smell her shampoo—that floral scent that had been driving him crazy for days.
“Thank you,” she said finally. “For this. For being here. For not making me feel weak.”
“You’re not weak.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. Her face was inches from his. Her eyes were still red from crying, but there was something else there now. Something that made Carson’s pulse spike.
“Carson...”
He knew he should move. Should stand up, create distance, remember every reason this was a bad idea.
But Nora’s hand came up to rest on his chest, right over his heart. And Carson couldn’t make himself pull away.
“This probably isn’t a good time to say this,” Nora said softly. “But I feel safe with you. Not just physically safe. Emotionally safe. Like I can fall apart and you won’t judge me for it.”
“You can,” Carson said, his hand still on her back. “I won’t judge you. Ever.”
