Page 7 of To Hate You

“You okay?” His studied me with a worried look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m just...” My vision flickered, and my heart seemed seconds away from tearing through my throat. I swallowed hard. “I’m just feeling a little claustrophobic.”

“Come on.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

The faces of people blurred into unrecognizable shapes, and I struggled to keep my eyes open as Andrew led me out of the house and into the warm night.

I sucked in a breath, smelling the night air and allowing it to fill my lungs. My head felt light, and I stumbled backward when Andrew caught me before I could fall. He pressed his body against mine to hold me up.

“I’m so dizzy.” My hands were shaking as I covered my face. “I can’t…I can’t breathe right. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I know a panic attack when I see one. You need to focus on taking one breath at a time.” He let go of my waist and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Sienna, look at me.”

“I can’t...I can’t breathe.” Panic stirred, and my pulse raced impossibly fast.

“You’re okay. Just take one deep breath after the other.”

I placed a palm against my chest, feeling every breath of air get trapped at the bottom of my throat. “I can’t—”

“Sienna, look at me.” He jerked my shoulders. “Look at me!”

My eyes flitted up to meet his gaze.

“You’re okay, I promise. You just need to control your breathing.”

My skin was cold and clammy while my palms burned, and I tried to focus while struggling to keep my eyes on him. The world around me spun so fast I could feel nausea gripping my stomach tight while my lungs struggled to expand. I could hear the thump of my wildly beating heart pounding between my ears, my legs threatening to collapse beneath me, all the while my thoughts frantically jumped from one clusterfuck to the other.

Oakley.

The trauma.

Noah.

The pain.

The pregnancy.

A baby.

Jesus Christ. A baby.

Oh my God. I was going to pass out.

“Andrew, I can’t...” I gasped for air. “I can’t breathe.”

“Yes. Yes, you can. You just need to concentrate.”

“No.”

“Yes. It’s just a panic attack, Sienna. That’s all it is.” His grip tightened on my shoulders, and I could feel sweat beading at my temples while my body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

Was this what dying felt like? Your mind spinning out of control while your body just kept on tightening the barbed wire around your insides.

“Sienna.”

I shook my head, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “I need air. I can’t—”

He kissed me.

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