Page 59 of Maid For Each Other

He’d seemed concerned when I’d been having my asthma attack, yes, but he hadn’t looked anything like this irritated man who was pulling out of the parking lot.

“Yes, I’m mad—are you kidding me?” he said, his voice full of frustration. “That was fucking terrifying, Abi. Why would you do that to yourself? I don’t even understand.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, kind of shrugging before turning to look out my window. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t talk as he drove, and I was so conflicted I wouldn’t have known what to say if hedidwant to talk. Because it was natural for someone—anyone—to worry about someone having a health crisis.

He was simply being a decent human being.

But something about Declan’s worry, and the way he’d taken care of me, felt personal.

And it was disturbing how much I liked it.

20

Downtime

Declan

I had no idea why I was so pissed off.

Abi Mariano was not my problem, so her health was not my concern.

It was stupid that I felt this mad.

But when I’d heard the wheeze of her trying—and failing—to get air in her lungs, it had scared the shit out of me. And even as she stood there, telling me she was fine, she’d looked scared as hell.

Like she wasn’t sure she believed that shewasokay.

I mean, she was kind of my employee right now, so surely that was what this was about. My annoyance that someone, while on my watch, would put themselves in jeopardy. That was the only explanation, right?

But it’d felt eerily familiar, dealing with her asthma. My grandpa used to pull that shit all the time with his COPD. He hadn’t wanted to be a bother, or he didn’t want to hold up whateveryone else was doing, so he’d try to just power through no matter how uncomfortable it made him, which usually landed him in the hospital.

I’d watched him go from being the most active person I’d ever met to a man who struggled to walk across a room without needing to stop for air.

Obviously, Abi was young and active and healthy, so she wasn’t at all like my grandfather.

But it’d felt too familiar and I hadn’t liked it.

When we got back to the apartment, I wasn’t sure how to behave around her. On the one hand, I felt like I needed to reassure her that I wasn’t an asshole, even though I’d basically yelled at her. I knew I should explain myself and apologize.

But on the other hand, I wasn’t ready to talk because I couldn’t stop seeing the fear in her eyes when she hadn’t been able to catch her breath.

Fuck.

“So what time does your flight leave?” she asked, and it was obvious that she was just tossing out small talk for the sake of killing the awkwardness. “Or is it whenever you want? I don’t actually know how private planes work.”

“I don’t have a plane,” I said, dropping my keys onto the counter. “I attend the hangar event, but I’m flying out of the main terminal.”

“Wow, like a commoner?” she asked, slipping out of her running shoes.

“Yes, like a commoner,” I said, fully aware that Abi was mocking me and pretty much everyone around me.

Which was fair.

We had too much.

I was very aware of my privilege—I always had been—but I felt guiltier than usual about it when I was around her.

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