Page 62 of Ten Rules for Faking It
Wrapping her hands around the wheel, she pictured a box unfolding. All—the—way—open—and—closed. And again. Slowly inhaling, faster exhale. Tears burned her eyes.
You’ve come so far. You’ve already done this four times and survived. What’s one more?The words were low, nearly whispered, but they echoed in her brain. She knew from reading anxiety sites online and the few workshops she’d taken that beating herself down for this would only make it worse. She’dgotten so much better in that area, too. One tear slipped, but she swiped it away, scratching her cheek with her nail. The sting of it made her gasp. She’d also learned that sometimes she just couldn’t push past the fear.
She couldn’t do this, and if she thought about the fact that this was somehow equivalent to not showing up for work, she’d be back to hyperventilating. So she started the car and headed for home. By the time she got there, she was able to breathe.
Everly locked the door behind her and hooked her keys by the door. Grateful to be home, she thought it’d be easier to settle, but she knew it wouldn’t work while she was letting others down. Using the app Chris’s brother had made, she texted Daniel to tell him she’d become unexpectedly ill, which didn’t feel like a lie, and asked if they could reschedule. She said sorry a record number of times and set her phone down before even checking his response.
Having an anxiety attack was a little like having a bad hangover and an asthma attack at the same time—at least, in Everly’s experience. Head fuzzy, body heavy, she moved slowly as she stripped out of her date clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water pulsated over her skin, and the scent of her soap—raspberry and honey—filled her nostrils, bringing calm the way a pleasant memory could. Pressing three fingers between her breasts to the place where her sternum ached, she went through the breathing routines she’d known since she was old enough to googleanxietyon the internet.
It took almost as much energy tonotberate herself as it did to slog through the shower, let the repetitive motion of washing and rinsing her hair settle everything inside of her body. She didn’t know why it was called fightorflight when it should in fact be fightandflight. That was the actual human response when stuck in a harrowing situation. For Everly, every time something like this happened, she fought herself as she fled. Fightandflight. Until she had no energy left.
Turning off the water, she dried off and got into her coziestclothes, made a cup of tea, turned down the lights, and turned on the television. Later, if she thought about it, she’d blame the exhaustion. People didn’t understand the fatigue that came with having a brain that never stopped. So she didn’t stop herself when her fingers dialed his number, didn’t ask herself why it was him she wanted to reach out to.
He answered on the first ring. “Everly. Are you okay?”
Tears fell, and she nodded even though he couldn’t see her. Pulling in a measured breath, she dug deep for the strength she needed to say the words stuck in her throat.
“I could use a friend,” she whispered, ignoring the truth. She needed a friend. But she wanted Chris.
“I’m on my way.”
[21]
Whatever words she’d rehearsed in her head slipped away the minute Chris walked toward her, worry furrowing his brow. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, his hair mussed, she wondered where he was coming from. A casual date at his house? A woman’s home?Why do you care?
At the moment, she didn’t. She’d called, he’d come, and the relief of that pushed everything else away. Including her typical reserve as she stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her head rest on his chest so she could hear his steady heartbeat. His arms closed around her automatically. He shut the door with his foot and just stood there, holding her, not saying anything. It was her definition of perfect.
He didn’t rush her, but when she felt like she could talk about it, she stepped back. He bent his knees and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice was hushed, but he wasn’t looking at her like she was weak, and for some reason, it made her feel stronger. Shewasn’tweak. Just tired.
She nodded, about to speak, but then his eyes widened, his hand coming to her face. His thumb swept, feather-light, across her cheek, reminding her of the scratch. His skin on hers made her cheek feel like a hot spot.
With a frown, his other hand went to her upper arm to hold on. “What happened?”
“Oh. I…” Where’d her words go? Why did it feel like her cheek had its own pulse beneath his thumb?
“Everly? Did you hurt yourself?” His tone was so tender and concerned. It threatened to unravel her again.
“I scratched myself by accident.” She walked into the living room with him on her heels.
Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t followed through with contractual obligations. The thought hadn’t run through her head in her panic or the aftermath. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d get in trouble. Whirling around with this new concern, her breath caught in her chest, snagging like cloth in a zipper. He wasn’t looking at her like she was an employee or worried about whether she’d fulfilled her end of the bargain.
He’s looking at you like a friend. Someone he cares about. Don’t make it more. You do that. You see things that aren’t there.
“I didn’t go,” she blurted. Pressing her fingernails to her palms, she gave him the rest before she could chicken out. “I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry. I just… It was too much tonight. With the road to the final two and the jokes and my parents’ party last weekend… it just… I’m sorry.”
Chris tilted his head, opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped. He ran both hands through his hair and shook his head. “Okay.” The word bounced off the walls.
Everly’s heart hammered. Did he not understand? Loosening her fingers, forcing steady breaths, she tried again. “I got to the restaurant, and I couldn’t go through with it. I came home and texted him, apologized. It’s the only time it’s happened, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of going through with all of this. I—”
Her words died when he took two giant steps forward, looking at her in a way shedidn’trecognize. Not from him. He reached out but paused like he was waiting for approval. She gave it by putting her hand on his chest. Why was shetouching him so much?You always want to be held when you feel like this. Usually, there isn’t a strong, sexy man available at such times. Boss. Boss. Boss.Maybe if she said it enough, she’d remember.
He pulled her close, both her hands flattening on his chest between their bodies. Chris sighed into her hair, resting his chin there, but more than that, his body sighed into hers. Dual sensations, comfort and electricity, tangled together, all their wires crossing. She didn’t know what to do, so she gripped the fabric of his shirt between her fingers. It was soft. Soothing.
“I don’t care about the show right now. We can push everything back a week, reschedule. Whatever. None of it matters. Just you. All that matters is you’re okay.”
Everly’s lungs forgot their purpose, opting to take a break altogether. Her heart joined in. Traitor. Both of them useless inside her body.
“You’re trembling,” he whispered, leaning back to look down at her face.
