NO!
Panic crashes over me. My eyes fly open. I try to breathe, but I can’t. Not properly. I gulp for air, faster and faster, but it’s not enough. Nowhere near enough. Fear coils around my heart, tight and merciless, and I can’t move. I can’t stop it.
Henry. Henry caught me. He beat me.
Gray, worried, fear-filled eyes appear above me, and I see that he’s speaking. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear him, only a roaring in my ears. Hands touch my cheeks, his hands. I smell him, feel them, and I stare at him, clinging to his gaze like a drowning woman, and slowly, ever so slowly, his voice breaks through.
Don’t let go. Don’t leave me alone.
“Inhale. Exhale. Come on, Goldilocks. You can do it. Yes, just like that. Inhale. Exhale. Again.”
His voice is like balm, his touch is like balm, and I do as he says, breathing with him as he pulls me, piece by piece, out of the panic attack.
“Good girl. Keep going. I’m here and no one is coming in. Just me and Lizzy. No one else. You’re safe,” he continues, soothing me, and gradually something inside me lets go. My heartbeat slows, my breathing evens out, and I grow unbearably tired.
“Don’t… go,” I whisper softly, then drift back into the darkness.
My mouth is dry as dust, my throat scraped raw like sandpaper. My body feels like dead weight, slow and unresponsive. And that damn beeping is back.
Slowly, I open my eyes, blink, then squeeze them shut again because the brightness blinds me. When I manage to open them again, I find myself staring at a beige ceiling with an elegant lamp hanging down.
Where the hell am I?
I slowly turn my head, stifling a groan as the weight drags it down, sending a dull throb through my skull.
The first thing I realize is that I’m in a hospital. My stomach flips as fragments of memories rise again, and I shove them aside quickly.
The second thing I notice is the dark hair and sleeping face of Nicolas, resting on the pillow beside me. Even asleep, he looks completely worn out.
My hand glides to his cheek, and I gently stroke it. His lips curve into the faintest smile.
Ohhh.
My heart begins to beat faster at this sweet reaction. Unfortunately, it also speeds up the beeping, and Nicolas’s eyesfly open in shock. He pushes himself up, staring at me with panic in his eyes.
“Amelia. What…? Oh fuck, you’re awake!”
His voice is hoarse from sleep. He runs a hand through his hair, staring at me with disbelief in his gray eyes.
“Hi,” I croak and raise my hand, which feels impossibly heavy, like a sack of cement.
“Fuck, babe… I… shit…” His voice falters. Slowly, he reaches out with a trembling hand and places it on my cheek, careful as if I were made of glass.
Despite the pain, I nuzzle into his touch. Tears well up in my eyes because this gesture, the way he’s struggling to hold himself together for me, breaks down every wall I’ve fought to maintain.
My walls finally break.
He’s afraid for me.
He was worried.
He’s here.
“Shhh, babe, don’t cry. I’m here. It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he says, almost begging. He leans down, presses his forehead to mine, and takes a deep breath.
He’s here.
He knows.
