I nod, still unsure if she wants words from me yet. Yesterday, she needed silence, and I couldn’t even give herthat. I talked until she shoved me out.
Her expression softens. “You can speak now.”
“Good—” I murmur, voice cracking. I clear my throat. “Good morning.”
I can’t wait another second. I pull her into my arms. She stiffens at first. Doesn’t melt into me the way she normally does—but her arms come around me anyway.
Small steps.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently. Her hair brushes my chin as she nods. I let out a shaky breath. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” I ask, trying to tread carefully. I don’t want to push, but she scared the hell out of me.
When she doesn’t respond, I lean back and lift herchin. “Baby, I just want to understand so I don’t hurt you again. So I don’t… fail you again.”
She frowns. “You didn’t. I…”
“It’s okay—”
She steps away. I let her go, though every part of me wants to hold her close until that hesitation vanishes.
“It’s something called sensory overload,” she says, eyes dropping somewhere around my collarbone. Her voice is calm but clipped. Nervous. Her cheeks are flushed, maybe with embarrassment. But that’s the last thing I want her to be.
I nod. “Okay.”
Then she squares her shoulders like she’s bracing herself for impact. I open my mouth, wanting to tell her she doesn’t have to do this. Not yet. Not if she’s not ready. She’s been keeping this side of hers to herself for a reason and I don’t want to force it out of her. But she speaks first.
“I was diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder eight years ago,” she says, matter-of-fact. But my stomach sinks. “Only Vi knows. No one else. And my therapist says I also have an avoidant attachment style. It makes certain relationship things… complicated for me.”
My mind starts spinning.Certain relationship things… like saying ‘I love you’ first? Fuck, the signs were always there, weren’t they? I should’ve seen them.
Oh God. I’m an utter bastard.
“Last night wasn’t a panic attack,” she continues flatly. “During sensory overload, I need quiet. Sometimes even darkness. No talking. No sound. And when you kept talking, I… I…” She trails off, struggling, waving an infirm hand near her ear.
Suddenly I feel like the biggest asshole on theplanet for demanding any of this from her so soon after what she went through.
Without thinking, I pull her back into my arms. But this time, her hands don’t move. They stay by her sides.
“Alright,” I murmur. “I get it. You don’t have to say everything right now. Just know that I’m listening, okay? Whenever you’re ready, baby.”
She nods. Sighing, hopefully in relief. I pick her up, bridal style, and settle us onto her couch—her tucked into my lap. I run a slow hand up and down her back. Her breathing hitches, so I still.
“Uh, I have to tell you something.” She clears her throat. That same flatness in her voice returns. “Last night, Gareth cornered me outside the bathroom.”
My whole body goes rigid.
She keeps going before I can react, her words coming faster now. “He said I shouldn’t be poking around Astor Capital Funds. I told him it was my job, so he—so he grabbed me by the front of my dress…” Her hand clutches her t-shirt right over her breasts and my whole vision reddens. “And… uh… slammed me against the wall.”
I grip her a little tighter, but try not to move. She needscalm. Not the storm building in me. She doesn’t need me yelling and pacing right now.
Fuck, Gareth did what?
“Then he said something along the lines of uh, I… can’t remember clearly but, ‘mind your business, or else’? He said something like that.”
Jesus fucking Christ. He threatened her. The bastard threatened her and I wasn’t there.
What the fuck was I even doing?
And then I compounded my stupidity by hurtingher again.
