Page 47 of Surrender
This man was insufferable.
“Speaking of this relationship. I think it’s time we went our separate ways.” I got the words out without my voice cracking,and that felt like a victory already, but it was far from over. “Our worlds are very different, and we just aren’t a good match. I’m pretty sure you know that.”
He let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Darcy, this is a bit dramatic for brunch, don’t you think?” He picked up the menu, scanning it like I hadn’t just told him we were over. “Let’s have something to eat, then we can talk in private.”
The temperature had shifted.
It’d been cool when I walked in here, but now I felt like I was on fire.
Sweat prickled at the back of my neck and under my nose, and I glanced around, wondering whether there was actually something alight because the air felt thicker and harder to breathe. When no one else was moving, I shook my head, trying to focus and get out the words I needed to say so I could get the hell out of here.
“You’re not listening,” I said, my voice trembling. “I… we… this isn’t…” I leaned back in my chair, my heart pounding.
Was I having a heart attack?
Across from me, Parker sipped at his coffee like he had all the time in the world.
“Yes?” he encouraged. “This isn’t what?”
My tongue.
It was heavy.
Too heavy to make words with.
“I…” I tried again, but it was just a slur of sound.
The heat in my body was unbearable now, like I was burning from the inside out. It was in my chest and under my skin. My limbs felt heavy, like I’d been dropped into water and everything was dragging.
Something was wrong.
I looked down at my coffee.
The swirling liquid wasn’t turning in circles anymore. It wasmoving in waves. Ripples. The cup too. And the table.
Everything was warped and twisted, and panic now had a hold of my throat.
Fuck.
“Darcy?” Parker’s voice sounded far away, like he was standing at the other end of a long tunnel. “Are you okay?”
No.
I wanted to scream it, but my mouth wouldn’t form the words. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. My limbs felt detached from my body, seemingly useless.
Parker shoved his chair back and rushed to my side of the table, dragging me to my feet and making me collapse into him.
“You…” I slurred, trying to wiggle or shake—anything that might alert the people around us that something was wrong. “Yew… di dis…”
He tightened his hold. “It’s okay,” he announced loudly, as if we were putting on a show. “I’m gonna get you home to rest. I told you to be careful with your meds, babe. You can’t mix them with alcohol.”
He hauled me toward the door, my feet barely skimming the floor as I tried desperately to walk. The people in the Bistro just watched, murmuring between themselves and quietly asking him if I was okay.
Parker moved quickly, though, offering nods and smiles while all I could do was blink and blubber—my tongue dead in my mouth.
Say something.
Scream.
