Page 16 of Addicted

“Focus on me and breathe.” He was using that no-nonsense tone, with his hand under my chin. His touch broke through the waves of anxiety currently drowning me, and I furrowed my brow as his hand squeezed my cheeks together.

“Do what I said.”

I took a shuddering short breath.

“Another.”

I gulped in more air, feeling my lungs fighting hard against me with every inhale. I wanted to cry, to succumb to the inky black that was edging my vision. The pain was coiled tight in my chest. Another breath, another.

I lost count of how many breaths I took before the blur coating my vision faded, and the tightness coiled in my chest began to ease.

When the breaths came a little easier, I realized my hands were against Hugh’s chest.

His steady heartbeat thumped against my palms as I started to feel tension draining from my shoulders. Tears clouded my vision and I tried and failed to blink them back.

“That’s it. Good.” Hugh wiped my cheeks, keeping his eyes on mine.

“Let’s take this off.” He reached for the edges of my blazer. I moved to take my hands back.

“I’m fine,” I said, panic rising again. He couldn’t find out. I didn’t want anyone to know.

“Okay. Okay,” Hugh whispered. “Just sit here for a minute. Stay here with me.”

We sat together, me breathing deep as Hugh’s sharp gaze came into focus. My fingers felt every rise and fall of Hugh’s chest until my breaths matched his.

“What do you need?” Hugh asked.

A time machine.

World peace.

Him.

“My purse—”

“I got it. I’ll be right back.” Hugh left me alone and I covered my face.

Each breath I took helped ease the panic, while also making me feel more and more embarrassed.

A panic attack. At work. In front of Hugh.

He came back with my purse in hand and a bottle of water. I didn’t meet his gaze as I rummaged around and found the pill bottle. Snapping one in half, I put it under my tongue and scrunched my nose as it dissolved. I downed the whole bottle of water when it was done.

Hugh sat beside me. After a moment, his hand went to the nape of my neck and pulled me gently to his shoulder.

Before I could stop them, more tears fell. I wiped at them and sniffed.

“Sorry. Thanks. Sorry,” I mumbled.

The comedown was the worst part.

Being thrown in and out of fight or flight floods everything with adrenaline and is emotionally and physically exhausting.

Hugh placed his chin on my head.

“I’m glad I was here,” Hugh said.

So was I. This felt good,hefelt good. I felt tears building again, but I blinked them back.

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