Page 47 of Sweet Heart

“Hey?”

Mary’s soft voice breaks through the haze, carefully pulling me back. I freeze, and everything inside of me goes quiet.

“I’m going to come closer, okay?”

When I don’t say anything, she slowly slides toward me. The cushion dips slightly with the added weight. She is close enough for me to feel the warmth of her body, but she doesn’t touch me. Instead, she places her hand next to mine and keeps her eyes on them. She isn’t trying to ‘read me.’ She isn’t trying to fix it. No. Mary is trying to reach me.

My bottom lip trembles slightly, maybe from the cold, maybe from how she makes me feel, and my breaths come out ragged, but her presence calms my nerves. I slide my hand closer to hers so that our pinkies brush, and I hear her let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s it,” she murmurs so quietly that I can barely hear it. “Stay with me now.”

The softness in her voice makes me turn my head, and she lifts hers to meet my gaze. There is a gentle smile on her lips, not happy, just comforting. Her eyes dart over my face until she is certain I am present. She closes them for a beat, then she nods, and inhales deeply.

“I am going to ask you to do something, okay?”

She pauses so that I can nod before she continues.

“Okay, good,” she whispers with another nod and then straightens her shoulders. “Can you tell me five things you see in this room?”

The question is so unexpected that I almost snort. I know this technique. It’s used to calm people who are having a panic att—wait. Am I? I am. I totally am. The tight ball in my chest unclenches a little now that I am able to name it, but it is not enough. My jaw rolls as I lift my head higher to glance around the room.

Even though I was only here yesterday, it feels like a whole other planet. Mary’s sanctuary. This is the place where she can be completely herself. And now she is inviting me to be completely myself, too.

I swallow hard as I try to focus on the objects around me while my mind keeps drifting back to the OR. To the blood on my gloves, the messed-up organs, Maisy’s pale body on the gurney.

“Hey, hey, slow down. I’ve got you.”

Mary’s arm slides around me, and she carefully guides me toward her. Her presence is like a warm, weighted blanket, safe and secure for me to sink into. I curl my fingers into her shirt and draw a deep breath before resting my head against her chest. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell me what to do, but just holds me. Her chest moves steadily beneath my cheek, and her hand comes up to rub soft circles on my back. I try to follow her breathing and calm my mind as I peer at the room from my new spot.

“Reading lamp,” I whisper hoarsely, my voice cracking at the edges.

Mary’s hand stills for a beat, and I feel her dip her head to look at me before she continues the soothing motion.

“Good. What else?”

“Too many books.”

She huffs out a soft laugh.

“No such thing. What else?”

I let my gaze roam over her stuff. Every object here has a story to tell, a history with her. There is so much about her I have yet to discover, to learn, and I want to know it all. My eyes land on three colorful drops of glass. They stand on a little round plate with their tails curled into the air, resembling drops of caramel.

My lips part slightly as I let my gaze fall back to her. She is watching me intently, waiting for me to open up.

“Prince Rupert’s drops,” I whisper.

That beautiful, tentative smile spreads across her face, and she nods slightly.

“To remind me that even the strongest objects can shatter when their weakest spot is touched.”

I shiver, and my eyes instantly burn, but she doesn’t recoil. If anything, she leans in more, cupping my jaw with her warm hand, her gaze boring into mine.

“But you know what’s so beautiful about glass, Cat?”

I shake my head weakly as she holds me with her gaze.

“It can be melted and reshaped endlessly. Even when it’s shattered.”