Page 41 of The Back Forty
“What the hell happened?” I ask, the growl already in my throat as I stride toward her fast.
She blinks up at me, like she’s only just registering that I’m there. Her mouth opens but no words come out. Just shallow breaths and a shaky inhale like she’s trying to pull it together.
“Talk to me,” I say, voice softer now as I crouch in front of her, trying to meet her eyes. “Dani. What happened?”
She doesn’t answer right away just swallows and holds out her shaky hands. "I'm... I'm having a panic attack."
I nod and take her hands in mine, squeezing firmly.
“I’m here,” I tell her. “You don’t have to do this alone. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Chapter 16 – Dani
A few minutes earlier…
Elijah:When are you coming back?
Me:Never.
Elijah:You know as well as I do that it’ll be practically impossible for you to get hired out here again with that massive gap on your résumé.
Elijah:And don’t say that little small-town family business that you're working for counts as employment. No one cares if you’ve spent the last thirteen years selling tech; Eggs, whiskey, and weddings don’t count. The game’s changed. It’s more cutthroat than ever and you're out of practice.
Me:Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not interested in going back to tech sales anyways.
Elijah:That’s ridiculous. You have to.
Me:I don’t have to do shit. Just like I don’t have to keep this conversation going. I broke up with you over a year ago when I left. Remember?
Elijah:Only because you had a stroke and thought it'd fix your life to cut me and everyone else out of it.
Me:Wow. Super sensitive and understanding. Thanks, asshole. And also, it wasn’t just the stroke. It was us. We weren't compatible, and being with you meant I never got a break from work. It wasn’t sustainable.
Elijah:That’s a lie and you know it. We were electric together. The dream team. You just needed to work smarter and not stress out so much.
Me:I’m done with this conversation. Lose my number.
Elijah:Catalina said she saw you. Just because you got promoted at your little fake job doesn’t mean it’s going to last. It’s a family business, Dani. You’re not family. They’ll toss you out eventually when they have to make cuts. You were part of my family. My parents keep asking about you.
Me:Then tell them we broke up, Elijah. That way they, and you, can finally get it through your heads. I’m never coming back to California.
And that’s when it all started.
That slow, creeping dread that crawls up my spine. Like someone cracked open a door in my brain and let a swarm of bees in.
A single thought morphs into a dozen others, all stinging and buzzing and demanding my attention and yet none of them are able to break through.
It’s a slippery slope I’ve been down before. The moment where my breathing starts rushing out of my mouth erratically and every cell in my body starts vibrating with the terrible certainty that something isvery, very wrong.
It begins in my head. Always does. First, a flicker of doubt, then a cascade of them. My hands tremble. My chest tightens. My thoughts spiral too fast to catch, like leaves in a wind tunnel.
Then come the shakes. My limbs go weak, cold, and uncoordinated. Like I’m disassembling in real time and then my chest feels like it's caving in and I can't breathe.
I haven’t had one in years, and it’s been a while that it’s felt this intense. Back in California, they were a regular occurrence. They came with the career. With the late nights, the skipped meals, the constant pressure from my ex to be better, sharper, faster. I used to live on caffeine and performance anxiety. Then came the prescriptions, the therapy, the gym membership I hardly ever used, the meal-prep plans I always ignored.
And then came the stroke.
Everything stopped after that. Or… I stopped. I changed everything. I moved across the country, traded rooftop networking events for farmer’s market booths. Said goodbye to the condo that I lived in with Elijah, my closet full of navy blazers, my parents, my older sister, and my friends.
