“Breathe.”
“I hate when people tell me to breathe.”
“Do it anyway.”
I breathe. Once. Twice. The air shakes going in. A memory flashes, sharp and uninvited. Me at twenty-eight, sitting beside Harold in his immaculate car while he explained that the weekend trip we’d planned would have to wait. A client emergency. Nothing he could do. He promised we’d go next month.
Me at thirty-one, folding a tiny yellow baby blanket my mother bought before the last appointment made hope feel foolish.
Me at thirty-five, sitting at the kitchen table in the dark while Harold asked if someone had died.
Me saying, “Maybe me.”
I close my eyes. No. I’m not dead inside. Not anymore.
I open them and Hudson just waits.
For me.
My choice.
“One brave thing,” I whisper.
Then I jump.
Chapter 4
Layla
For half a second, I regret everything. The rock disappears beneath my bare feet. Air snatches at my lungs. My stomach flies upward. The world becomes blue sky, green trees, sun, wind, and a wild, silent scream trapped somewhere behind my ribs.
Then I hit the water.
Cold takes me whole. It shocks every thought out of my head. I go under, deeper than expected, bubbles roaring past my ears.For one panicked second, I forget which way is up. Then my body remembers.
I kick. My butt-ugly toes do their job. I break the surface with a gasp so loud it echoes.
Hudson is there. His hand catches my forearm when I sputter, steadying me as I cough and blink water from my eyes.
“You’re okay,” he says.
I suck in air. “I’m okay.”
“You did it.”
“I did it.”
The words hit me after I say them.
I did it.
A laugh bursts out of me. Not the soft teacher laugh I use when a child tells me a joke with no punchline. A real laugh. A wild one.
I throw my arms around Hudson’s neck before I can think better of it. He catches me. His hands close around my waist, strong and solid beneath the water. My body presses against his, and the laugh dies in my throat.
Oh. This is not safe. This is not safe at all.
Hudson’s chest is hard against mine. His skin is hot despite the cold water. My legs brush his, and every inch of me becomes aware of every inch of him. His fingers flex once at my waist. It’s only for a second, but I feel it everywhere.
