I can’t help the bitter words that pour out of my mouth. “What do you care?”
“I didn’t say I did,” she says coolly. “I can leave.”
She goes to shut the door, but I call after her. “Wait,” I say, watching her pause in the doorway. “I’m sorry. That was dickish. It’s just…been a bad day.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Is that Abby asking or the baby psychologist?”
She shrugs. “Bit of both?”
And I can’t help it—the feelings I’ve been trying to keep at bay start to well up inside me all over again. The panic, the fear, the uncertainty…all of it. I feel my heart begin to race as my fists clench, and to my embarrassment, I feel my eyes get wet.
“I can’t do this,” I say. “I just can’t.”
My breath comes out in harsh pants, and I clutch my chest, trying to calm the pounding beneath it but only feeling it ratchet up higher. I notice when Abby takes a step toward me, her expression laced with concern.
“Jack?”
“Pill,” I manage through gritted teeth. “Bedside table. Propranolol.”
She doesn’t hesitate, moving to the side of my bed, where I hear the rustling of items being moved around before the telltale rattle of a pill bottle. She rushes back with her fist closed around one, and when she hands it to me, I swallow it dry just as my body begins to shake.
I hate her seeing me like this, hate thatanyonewould see me this way—especially considering I’ve taken so many steps to ensure no one ever does. I rock in place slightly, and to my surprise, I feel Abby’s arm come around my shoulders, her hand squeezing the one it lands on as she speaks in soft tones.
“Breathe, Jack,” she says. “Just breathe.”
I do as she says, drawing in slow, steady breaths just to let them out. She keeps a hold on me through all of it, and I know that tomorrow I will be embarrassed about this, but right now? Right now it just feels nice not to be dealing with it alone.
When I finally calm, I let out a shaky exhale. “Sorry,” I manage.
“Does that happen often?”
“Just…sometimes.”
She is quiet for a moment, but then, “I’ll ask again. Do you want to talk about it?”
And there’s no reason for me to unload my problems on this woman who I’m not even sure likes me, but for once…the idea of saying everything out loud, of unburdening myself of all the things that have been keeping me awake at night…it actually sounds nice.
“Sure,” I say quietly. “If you don’t mind.”
Abby just squeezes me tighter. “I don’t mind.”
The weight of her arm around my shoulders is easy to focus on in the wake of my panic, and weirdly enough…I’ve never been more grateful for such a simple touch.
It makes it a lot easier to open my mouth and start talking.
Nine
Abby
I’m sitting on the couchwhile I wait for Jack to get out of the shower—my suggestion. I thought it might help him calm down from whatever episode he was having when I walked in on him. I’m not even sure what prompted me towalkin on him in the first place; I’ve been telling myself it’s simply because he seemed to need help and this is the profession I plan on going into, but honestly? It freaked me out a little to hear him so freaked out.
Jack is such a…force, usually. He’s just always so happy, obnoxiously so…and hearing his panicked tone when he answered me through the door had been so much of a shock that I found myself opening the door before I could even second-guess myself. I’mstilla little in shock at the state I found him in; his room was an absolute mess, like he’d been tearing through it mindlessly, and I know a manic episode when I see one. I guess it just never occurred to me that Jack could experience something like that. Learning that he even hasmedicationfor such episodes was a real eye-opener.
I tap my foot as I wait for him, sitting up a little straighter when I finally hear his door open and shut. I’m almost regretting my offer to let him talk it out, because what the hell am I going to say to Jack Baker? I would barely even call us friends, living arrangements aside—what can I possibly say to make him feel better?
He comes out of the hallway rubbing at his damp hair with a towel, his dark gray T-shirt wet at the shoulders, and his lighter gray sweatpants hung low around his hips.
