I genuinely don’t know.
Pushing away from the table, I stand and begin to pace back and forth. My pulse kicks up, my heart in my throat as all the what ifs race through my mind. Sweat beads across my brow the deeper down this hole I get. I’m about to finish this program and become an EMT.I’m starting a brand-new career!Now isnotthe time for a huge life change. I can’t start a new job and then be like,“Surprise! I’m pregnant and will need to take a massive amount of time off in about seven months!”
Fuck!
This couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. Not that there’s ever an ideal time for something like this. Well, unless you were trying to get pregnant, but I definitely wasn’t.
Why the hell didn’t Graham use a condom?
Why didn’t I insist he put one on?
But most of all, why on earth did I think it was a good idea to go there with him anyway?
My lungs tighten. I can’t breathe. Fuck, why can’t I breathe? Clutching my chest, I swallow down big gulps of air, but it’s not enough. It’s not helping. Panic rises inside me as I barrel through my door in my kitchen, onto the back patio, but the cool air does nothing to calm me down.
Fuck…I can’t do this.
I can’t be a mom.
Who would watch them while I’m at work? My parents won’t be able to. Graham works, has a life of his own, a daughter, who he’s raising all by himself. I can’t put this on him.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I head back inside and grab my phone off the table. I can’t tell anybody about this… but Ineedto tell someone, or I’m going to lose my mind.
The line rings a couple of times, nausea swirling around in my gut while I wait for it to connect.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Georgia, can you come over?” I’m completely aware of how frantic I sound, but I can’t help it. “I think, ahh…” Gasping for more air and continuing to pace in front of the table, I manage to blurt out, “I think I might be having a panic attack, or maybe a stroke, orfuck, I don’t know, can you just get over here, please?”
“Babe, calm down,” she says soothingly. “I’ll be right there. Give me a few minutes, okay?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Please come alone.”
“Okay, I will.” I can hear her keys jingle as she grabs them, the sound easing my nerves, but only marginally. “Get yourself a glass of water in the meantime,” she suggests. “I’ll stay on the phone with you. You’re going to be okay.”
“I don’t believe you,” I mutter as I fill up a glass with water from the tap. Chugging a good portion of it, I still can’t breathe. Tears spring to my eyes. I set the cup down harder than I intendto, and I know Georgia heard it because she says, “Charley, breathe for me, babe.”
“Georgia, I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. Deep breaths in through your nose, come on.” She gives me a second. “Now exhale slowly through your mouth. You can do this.”
“Okay,” I murmur, my voice cracking.
“Good, now look around,” she instructs me to do next, her voice steady and calm, unlike mine. “Tell me five things you can see right now.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Five things, Charley.”
“Okay, uh…” Brow furrowed, I glance around the kitchen. “I see my refrigerator, I see the stove, uh, the utensils sitting on top of the stove.”
“Two more things, and don’t forget to breathe.”
My hand presses against my chest as I drag in a gulp of air. “Apples and bananas on the counter in a bowl.”
“Good, that’s good,” she coos. “Now, tell me four things you can touch right now.”
“Georgia—”
