Page 124 of Unexpected Heroine

She exhales, long and deep.

I caress her cheek lovingly with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around her body.

“Focus on my voice and your breathing. I won’t leave you alone. I’m staying right here.”

A handful of minutes later, awareness seems to return to her body. Fucking finally. Her muscles gradually relax, and her hold on me loosens.

The downshift from this catatonic state isn’t gradual or smooth. Her head pops off my chest, seeking out my face. The blend of sadness and panic in her expression guts me. If I were standing, it would have cut me off at the knees.

“Sugar, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she croaks, voice scratchy.

Thank fuck.

“You’re safe, baby. I’ve got you. Do you know where we are?”

She blinks a few times, then sweeps her gaze timidly around us. “Your room.”

“Good. That’s good. Just relax. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Focus on what you feel and see around you now. Only the things here in the room. Okay?”

She nods, her petrified eyes continuing to scan from left to right. Steadily, her fears give way to sadness. Tears overflow and spill down her cheeks.

I keep her engulfed in my embrace, continuously whispering reassurances.

A thousand apologies are on the tip of my tongue. But I keep them there.

I want to beg her to forgive me. To confess how fucking sorry I am for sending her into this spiral. To accept the blame I so ardently deserve. To remove any self-recrimination she may feel over this.

This was all on me.

So fucking stupid.

As much as I’d love to get all that off my chest and fall to her feet to beg for forgiveness, I won’t.

Not now.

Even someone as pathetic and stupid as me knows that forcing her to talk about what set her off is the most selfishly cruel thing. I’ve hurt her enough, haven’t I?

These never-ending apologies must stay locked tightly inside me, so I shove them into the vault along with all the other things I wish I could admit. All the words I long to say but won’t. To spare her. To spare her father.

And to spare myself.

There could be nothing more selfish than to ask for her forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.

Not just about causing her to have a blackout.

About everything.

I don’t fucking deserve her.

Everyone is better off without you.

Yeah, Dad. I know.

Her tears dampen my chest, each drop carrying with it a stinging pain I’ve earned. I can’t believe I had the nerve to be happy earlier tonight.

Or all year, for that matter.

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