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Bree’s answering expression was shocked before it turned devastated. “You have panic attacks? I don’t have to work in the kitchen, especially if it makes you that uncomfortable. I had no idea.”
The alarm in her voice almost made me regret telling her. “I used to have them a lot more often. Another reason I started to take therapy seriously after I moved away. I needed to be able to turn on the oven without cold sweats and heart palpitations. And it worked. Now I can usually deal with the triggers and anxiety before they escalate.”
She frowned. “When was the last time you had one?”
I tipped my head back and sighed. Part of me had known I’d have to come clean. “Yesterday.”
She gasped. “When yesterday?”
I smoothed my hand down her leg where it was still nestled over mine. “On the way back from Gulf Shores. Liem sent me a selfie from the kitchen. It took me by surprise, but Bree.” I met her eyes. “I’m glad it happened. I’m working on ways to get through it. It isn’t your burden. It’s mine.”
She looked ready to argue, but she let it go and changed the direction of our conversation. “When do you turn thirty?”
I gathered her close. “I’m surprised Liem hasn’t told you. The day after Halloween.”
“Vinh. That’s in four days.”
“It is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, and also, what do you want?” She sounded outright panicked.
“I wasn’t trying to hide it. It just hadn’t come up. We usually combine my birthday with whatever we’re doing with Halloween. And as for what I want?” I lowered and took her lips in a soft kiss. “You.”
She laughed into our kiss. “Charmer.”
I pulled back and took her chin between my fingers, looking into her steel-gray eyes that I could never get enough of. “It’s true. What made you ask, though?”
She held my gaze for a moment longer before shifting back and messing with her hair. “I was thinking. My dad was only thirty-one when he left.”
I hated this man and even pitied him some too. He missed out on so much good.
She twisted her damp hair. “I can’t decide if that means anything.”
“Do you want to try to find him?”
“Maybe. Not to know him, but to find the truth of why he left. Because you’re right. If Grandmother had more to do with it….” She blew out a breath. “Well, I don’t know what I’d do, but I think I need to know.”
I squeezed her in silent support and leaned over, pulling my laptop across the table. “Do you want to look at some rental listings now? Take your mind off things?”
“I really, really do. But I’ve got something else to do first.” She reached over and grabbed the grocery bag she’d brought in. “Wanna help me make your dad some muscle rub?”
I laughed. “You’re somethin’ else.”
We untangled ourselves and got up from the booth and she immediately started work on her concoction.
“Where’d you learn to make that?”
She paused her mixing and glanced up. “I wanted a birthday gift for Grandmother one year, and casinos are riddled with senior citizens. I low-key polled them on their health regimens.” She looked down at her bowl and a shadow fell over her face. When it didn't clear after a few moments, I took the spoon from her hands and set it down.
“I don’t think I’m up for seeing your parents today,” she admitted quietly.
“That’s okay,” I assured her.
Her eyes were glassy as she looked up, her chin wobbling and breaking my heart. “But I don’t want your dad to think?—"
“He won't think anything, Bree. He’ll be just as happy to get this in a couple of days as he would be today.”
She tripped over her inhale. “I don’t know how to do this.”
