Page 31 of Firefly Embers

My limbs felt heavy and the air thick as all the surrounding voices started fading into muddled whispers. The loud rush of blood pumping through my fast-beating heart was a persistent whoosh in my ears.

Just like at their wedding, I wanted to be happy for them, but my mind wouldn’t let me feel anything other than the burning fire of oppressive rage. That could have been me. Years down the road, sure, but it still could have been me.

Max would get his happily ever after with the woman who had brought pain and suffering to the life of his twin brother, while I got the shit sandwich called life.

I pushed back my chair; the legs scraped against the floor in a loud screech, breaking everyone’s happy trance and forcing all their attention in my direction.

I felt like I was suffocating as I pushed out of my seat and stumbled toward the front door, acting blindly on impulse.

I didn’t bother with showering them with empty platitudes and congratulations. They didn’t need my support or well-wishes; they were doing just fine on their own.

As I threw open the front door, the thick humidity hung like a velvet curtain in the air, surrounding me and further weighing down the darkness of my mind.

Without thinking, I started running. I ran past the stables, past the dimly lit bunkhouse, and through the brambles and bushes of the woods.

Even though it was dark, I knew exactly where I was going as if an invisible string was pulling me toward a place where I could quiet my mind and slow my racing heart.

My feet pounded on the damp earth in time with my racing heartbeat, propelling me further from the house and the trauma I didn’t want to face.

Pushing through the thick brush, I stumbled into the cove, doubling over with my hands braced on my knees. As the damp, cool air surrounded me, I was able to suck in a shallow, shuddering breath. Each inhale was painful as my lungs struggled to catch up. My stomach retched, lurching with emptiness and leaving me gasping through each heave.

What felt like hours—but was probably only minutes—ticked by as I struggled to draw in each breath. Thoughts swirled around my head that scared me, and I struggled to hold back a torrent of tears as one or two traitorous droplets coasted down my cheeks.

My mind swirled with thoughts of how much easier everyone’s lives would be without me and how much pain I was putting them through. It begged me for silence, a reprieve from the daily onslaught of fury.

A true testament of how far into my mind I had retreated, I didn’t hear or feel her approach until Ray’s slender fingers rubbed gentle circles across my back.

“Just breathe,” she whispered, as if her words were floating softly through the wind. Timing my breaths with the gentle cadence of her soft caresses across my skin, I was able to regulate my breathing and slow my heart rate.

My mind was still a depraved mix of thoughts, and the tightness in my chest refused to release, but something about Ray’s touch was calming me enough for the darkness to retreat to where it had come.

“Sit,” she commanded, guiding me softly to the creek’s edge and helping me sit gently on the bank. Any other time, I would have given her shit for treating me like a child, but right now I could barely focus on a steady heartbeat, much less ribbing her.

“I’m—”

She stopped me with a quiet shush from her plump lips as she looked out into the quiet forest around us, closing her eyes. “Just listen.”

I didn’t dare argue with her as I closed my eyes, surrounding myself with the sounds of the cove.

In the distance, I heard the soft hooting of an owl, calling out into the wind. Crickets chirped a steady cadence, their soft song a timed metronome, further slowing my heart rate. A trickle of water flowing at our feet softened the edges of the red haze clouding my vision. With each cataloged sound, I felt the tension release from my frame and my shoulders inch away from my ears.

“I’m sorry.” I tried again, needing to apologize to someone for the way I had acted.

“I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to,” she said softly, her eyes still closed, a quiet contentment flowing through her features. The serenity wafting off her was enviable, but she looked so soft and unmarred by my grizzly mood.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Her hazel eyes opened, turning in my direction, a look of “no bullshit” accented by her arched brow.

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, hoping that if I made myself small, it would physically hold me together. Everything felt like it was falling apart around me when, in reality, life couldn’t have been better for everyone else. Somehow, I had been stuck in this twilight zone of reliving that night—day in and day out, destined to be reminded of it at every turn.

“As soon as the words left Max’s mouth about Stella being pregnant again, my vision turned red, and I couldn’t breathe. Everything felt like it was closing in, and I couldn’t find a way out. I should be happy for them, but all I can think about is all that I’ve lost in the face of all that they’ve gained.”

Seemingly sensing my ratcheting heart rate, Ray’s hand reached out, and her fingers laced with mine—a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone, and this was a safe space to unload if I wanted to.

“It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest, and I couldn’t take a breath. I had to get out of there before I absolutely lost it.”

Admitting my freak-out to Ray felt uncomfortable, but I knew in my heart that, no matter what, she wasn’t going to judge me.

“Wade,” she said softly, using the same voice I’d heard her use on Izzy at the bar. The one that felt like she was placating you but was soft and serene because she was afraid you’d fight back. “I think you had a panic attack.”