Page 107 of The Moon & His Tides
Air squeezed out of my lungs faster than I could replace it. My eyes and throat were too tight and dry. I raked my nails over my neck as I tried to rip open the shirt I was wearing to get more air. Blood trickled down my chest, but I didn’t notice. Spots popped across my vision, black and growing larger by the second.
All I could focus on was trying to breathe through the pressure of guilt and shame and devastation pressing the life out of me.
“Savannah!” I heard vaguely. “He’s having a fucking panic attack. Get his head between his legs.”
Something pushed my head between my legs, but instead of comfort, the movement made me nauseated.
Seconds later, I threw up on my shoes.
“Jesus Christ,” Savannah cried out as I retched and retched, unable to stop even when nothing was left in my rancid gut but yellow bile.
“Get him some water,” Sebastian ordered, but Savvy stayed pressed to the other side of the car away from my sick.
I didn’t blame her.
My head rested on my thigh, damp forehead against the cool fabric of my denim. My vision swam so I squeezed my eyes closed and grabbed the seat beneath me, trying to right the vertigo.
This couldn’t be happening.
How could life be so cruel to kick me in the teeth when I’dfinallyfound the courage to express exactly what I wanted out of life?
It wasn’t even a choice, not really.
I couldn’t live with the truth coming out.
I’d seen what had happened to other actors, how it upset the trajectory of their careers, but I couldn’t deny in the safe recess of my own mind that it was so much more than that.
I’d seen the way censure had obliterated Gregory’s spirit.
I’d lived through losing him and my mother and Bryce.
I couldn’t live through the slow erosion of my relationship with Sebastian and Savannah because of the hate and judgment and lies they’d spin about us like an ever-tightening net. The way they’d take a love so fucking pure it was like fresh oxygen delivered straight to my veins and make it some kind of poison, something toxic for strangers to poke at and ridicule in the comments.
Everyone would hate us, and how could we insulate ourselves from that?
All that hate would just make us hate each other.
And then I’d be left with no wife, no Sebastian, and no career.
But maybe… if they could withstand the fire… if they wanted to face it together…
“Omari and Georgie are getting ahead of this,” Savannah’s cool, professional voice cut through my spiralling thoughts. “They’ll both meet us at The Savoy in twenty minutes.”
“Why not the house?” Sebastian asked.
“It’ll be surrounded by now.”
“It’s a gossip rag,” Sebastian said, trying to catch my eye as I straightened to rest my head back against the seat. “Surely this will pass over without much fanfare.”
My laugh was hollow and led to another retched gag.
“Nothing is trivial if it gets media attention. It didn’t start withThe Daily Spread. It’s been picked up by most major entertainment outlets,” Savannah corrected, fingers flying over the keyboard on her phone, brow furrowed. “We have to make sure we handle this indirectly without seeming to handle it at all.”
“Why not just let it blow over?” he pushed, curious but also scared.
Scared of what it meant for him.
I gagged again behind my hand and closed my eyes, trying to find peace where there was none to be had.
