Emma must feel me tense, because her hands push against my chest, soft but firm. “Jude...calm down.”
I can’t. My chest hammers, my blood screams, and I can feel every bruise, every ache, every horrible thing from this night. I feel like I’m losing my grip, and I’m only trying to anchor myselfto somethinghuman.
“Jude, step back,” Micah’s voice cracks. He’s holding his hands out, pleading.
Heather moves closer, like she’s going to shield Emma if I lose it completely. I won’t. They should all know that I would never hurt her.
I love her more than anything.
Rage and desperation twist in my stomach. I’m caught between everything I want and the suffocating reality of being watched, judged, and cornered.
My breathing is harsh, ragged. “I just...I need her…” I croak.
Emma looks between us, now in her professional mode. “Let’s talk about what’s going on. What happened?”
A sharp and brittle laugh escapes me.
I can’t stop. The only way out is if I stop breathing, don’t you fucking understand?
Heather steps closer again, like she’s genuinely nervous.
Everything snaps. I’m on fire inside, but Emma’s there.Her.Her eyes are wide and scared. She’s the tether that keeps me from spiraling completely.
I hate my life. I hate everything that’s happened to me. I just want it over.
I swallow, looking down at the only woman I’ve ever loved. The one who, in another life, I could have married and given children to. I realize...she’s the only thing that keeps me tethered toanyshred of myself. Without her, I fear I’ll disappear.
Her hands softly grip my forearms. “Jude...breathe. Please. Just...breathe.”
I want to laugh.Breathe?My chest is a drum of panic and desperation. My hands twitch, still on her hips, but I can feel the pressure of their eyes, the judgment, the fear.
“Step back, now,” Heather says, voice sharp. I can feel the authority in it, and it pisses me off. I want to shove her away, but I can’t.
Micah’s eyes are wide, trembling. “Jude...man...look at yourself! Look at what you’re doing!” His hands are halfway out, hesitant. Protective, pleading.
I swallow. “Emma…” I rasp. My voice is raw. “I...I am going to die.”
Her eyes lock on mine, confused, scared, and soft all at once. “No,” she whispers. “No, you’re not. But you’re not okay right now.”
The words hit me, and a flare of panic runs through my wired body.Not okay...not okay...not okay...The mantra loops in my head.I hate it. I hate being trapped like this.The meth, the bruises, the spiral...you’re losing control, Jude…
Heather takes yet another step closer.
I want to punch something. I blink, and somewhere inside the chaos, I realize:they’re right.I slowly let go of her hips, just enough to step back. My fists clench, still trembling. My chest heaves.
Emma exhales, almost a sigh of relief. “That’s it...stay with me.”
Heather’s gaze softens slightly. Micah exhales, shaking his head, like he can’t believe we made it this far without disaster.
“I would never hurt her,” I rasp. I tear myself away from her, and it feels like ripping something alive out of me. I don’t answer. I don’t explain. I just stalk out the door, desperately just needing to forget about this.
“Jude!” Emma runs after me, bare feet thumping on the hardwood.
“Stop, Emma!” Heather’s voice cuts through the tense air. “Emma, wait! Don’t follow him. He needs to calm down. Let him sleep it off. He’s on meth. He’s not in his right mind.”
Micah’s voice is quieter then. “Thanks, Heather.”
I hear her rattling off a list of things about blood pressure, heart rate, dehydration, and neurological shit. I block it out. I force myself into my Audi. Micah slides in beside me without saying a word.
