Alan snatches his papers out of the flood and stands. He takes one look at Kim’s face—she must look horrified, stricken. Obviously panicking. “Don’t worry, Kim. These jugs are heavier than they look.” He deposits the papers on a credenza and picks up a desk phone. “Lainey, please can you ask someone to come to Conference Room One to clean up a water spill? What other conference rooms are free?” He waits for the answer. “I understand. In that case, I’ll move the mediation to my office.”
Kim is frozen in her chair. Water drips from the table onto her skirt, soaking the front of it. She grips the material, but otherwise she can’t move. Not won’t, but can’t. Her breath wheezes in shallow pants, and she struggles to suck air into her tight chest.
Danika rises, comes to Kim and drops to her haunches in front of her. Gently, she frees the twisted material from Kim’s clenched fingers, then takes Kim’s fist in both her hands. Her thumbs stroke over the back of it. “You’re safe; I’ve got you. Concentrate on your breathing. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alan stands out of Kim’s view. “Do you need me to call anyone? Medical assistance?”
Kim shakes her head. The spiral of panic engulfs her, and she grips onto Danika’s hand, the steadiest thing here.
“Are you asthmatic?” Danika asks.
Kim shakes her head again. Danika’s hands are the only solid, safe thing in the room.
“Tell me five things you can see,” Danika says.
Kim struggles to focus, to draw breath, but recognises the grounding technique. “Table. Files. Vase. Telephone.” She meets Danika’s eyes. “You.”
“Now tell me four things you can hear.”
“Air con. Voices outside. Clock.” She holds Danika’s gaze. “You.”
As Danika takes her through the rest of the exercise, Kim’s breathing steadies. Her chest eases its grip, and she can breathe more deeply. “I’m okay.”
Alan’s gaze flickers over her, assessing. “If you wish, we can continue this another day.”
“I don’t know,” Kim says.
“If you want to continue, we’ll move to my office. Take your time, and when you’re ready, let Lainey at the front desk know what you want to do. There’s no rush at all.” He leaves, closing the door gently behind him, and his voice murmurs to someone outside the door to wait until the room is empty before mopping up.
Danika doesn’t ask questions. She simply stays there, her fingers twisted in Kim’s, her presence solid, reassuring.
Gradually the band around Kim’s chest loosens, and she’s aware of her soaked skirt, the mess she’s made on the table, the damp carpet. She releases Danika’s fingers and stands, then goes over to the window, looks down on the lines of traffic crawling along Springvale Road.
Danika comes to stand next to her. “We can leave. Go for a walk. Have lunch. Talk about anything other than this. Or you can go by yourself.”
“It’s not you.” Kim’s mouth is dry, and she longs for water. She feels around for the words she wants to say, words she’s not even sure about. “When Alan started talking about how legally I had a claim, I should have felt vindicated, that I was doing the right thing. But all I could think was that I was taking so much from you. Not just money. But everything that has underpinned your life for the last twelve years. I can’t do that, Danika.”
“Remember that while you have the law on your side, I also offered this. I want this.”
“You’ll have to sell your house.”
Danika’s mouth quirks up. “Then isn’t it lucky my mum is a real estate agent. She won’t charge me commission.”
Kim’s laugh cracks in the middle. “It’s your house. Your security. Your everything.”
“It was, once. Not anymore.” Danika grips Kim’s shoulder and turns her away from the window so they’re facing each other. “My security is the people I love: Cami, Mum and Dad. You. My friends. It’s not in bricks. I loved that house, but not anymore. I want to go somewhere different, away from the memories of Chris. I want to start making new memories. My people are my everything, and I hope they’ll stick with me.”
Kim struggles to process Danika’s words. She doesn’t care about the house. She cares about the people she loves. She replays Danika’s list in her mind:Cami, Mum and Dad. You.
Danika said she loves her.
Love.
No. She can’t think about that now. Not when they’re in a smart lawyer’s office, paying a small fortune an hour for Alan’s time. Now is not the time to wonder about love, when her skirt is dripping onto plush carpet, and Alan is waiting for them to continue the mediation.
But I can’t do this.
Danika stares at her, and Kim tries to read her face. Is she waiting for Kim to say the words back? Does Danika even mean it?
