Page 46 of Don't Leave Me

Chapter 12

“Hana,” I heard Michael’s voice whisper before I groggily opened my eyes.

Michael was watching me, his elbow propped up and his head leaning on his hand. I heard birds chirping before a loud roar of thunder echoed outside, halting the chirping.

“It’s noon. You need to take your meds,” he said, leaning over me and grabbing a glass of water that sat on my nightstand.

Noon?!I hadn’t slept in till noon in…forever.

Michael handed me the glass of water and sat up to reach for my purse on the floor, grabbing the two bottles of medication and popping one out of each of them.

I didn’t hesitate to take them. I gulped them down with a chaser of water and set the glass back down, turning back to Michael.

“I’m sorry for last night,” I frowned, watching his face for a reaction. “You must really think I’m crazy now,” I added lightly.

Michael shook his head and smiled at me kindly. “No, Han. I don’t think you’re crazy. And you have nothing to apologize for,” he said gently.

Does he not know that my guilt for basically lying to him probably caused my panic attack? Does he not know that I spent time with Jack last night?

“Yes, I do. Jack was hanging out with us last night, and I shouldn’t have let that happen,” I admitted, ashamed of myself. “And I was drinking and I told you I wouldn’t,” I went on, not wanting anything hidden from him.

Michael eyed me with concern. “I know. You told me last night. Do you not remember?”

What?!

I shook my head. “No,” I admitted.

I wasn’t drunk. I remembered everything until I got out of the taxi. Why didn’t I remember?

The look of concern was still on his face. “You were crying once we got into bed, telling me about Jack and your drinking, and you kept apologizing over and over, and I held you and told you that it was okay,” he recalled, waiting for me to remember.

Wait. That wasn’t a dream. That was real?!

“I thought that was a dream,” I confessed with widened eyes.

Michael looked relieved and smiled. “No, that was very real.”

Okay, so was there anything else I don’t remember, or do…but thought it was a dream?

“Did anything else happen?” I asked curiously.

“No,” he shook his head, laying down and putting his head on the pillow. “You fell asleep quickly.”

I sighed with relief as I laid down next to him.

“You handled me well…with my panic attack,” I raised my eyebrows.

He nodded, staring up at the ceiling. “My mum used to get them a lot,” he explained quietly.

I sensed that the mention of his mom brought up a lot of hurt in him. He never brought her up willingly, so I decided to ask.

“What was she like?” I asked curiously, putting my arm around his waist.

He smiled faintly. “She was the best cook. The house always smelled amazing when I got home from school,” he started. “That was when I was really young, though. As I got older, I only remember her cooking a few times before…” he trailed off, his tone turning somber.

I waited for him to continue. I didn’t want to drag anything out of him – it was obviously hard for him to talk about.

“She started getting really bad when I was 11 or 12. She would lock herself in her room for days, and my dad didn’t know what to do. We all felt really helpless, I think,” he started again, his voice frail – it was heartbreaking. “And when she did come out of her room, she wasn’t the same…she was afraid of everything. She wouldn’t leave the house – that’s when she started getting the panic attacks. She was just…very unwell,” he admitted, his voice cracking.

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