Page 89 of The Difference Between

Breathe.

Breathe.

“Reese,” Gavin whispers, “what are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“I’m—” I breathe through the tightness. “I’m checking in with my senses.” My eyes adjust enough in the dark to make out his face. I’m cold but I’m sweating.

I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth, but all I taste is sour—I might puke.

Breathe.

The racks of clothes inch closer.

Breathe.

“You’re shaking,” Gavin whispers.

I am.

“Oh.” I imagine we’re on a mountaintop. “I . . . I don’t like tight spaces.”

Through the door, a man’s voice says, “Come look at the bathroom, babe. Separate tub and shower.”

We have to get out of here. Now.

In a low voice, Gavin says, “I once heard that the dark was afraid of Chuck Norris.”

If I wasn’t about to die, I’d tell him he’s too young to know who Chuck Norris is.

The voices move away from us—presumably into the bathroom—and every other word makes it through the door.

I wonder how much air is left in here?

Only I don’t wonder it, I say it, because Gavin says, “Plenty.” Then, still whispering, he adds, “Let me help.”

I’m too disoriented to fight him because we’re going to die in this closet.

I expect him to summon a chainsaw to cut us out of here—hope for it, really—but instead, he pries my hands from his shirt and wraps them around his waist. “Okay?”

I nod through shallow breaths.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, tight—we’re hugging.

Through the door, Theo says, “There’s a tankless water heater—you’ll never run out.”

Into my ear, Gavin says, “I have you, Reese.”

My face hits the front of his shoulder, and his beard scrapes my cheek.

“You’re safe.” His voice is the gentlest sound I’ve ever heard. “It’s just a closet and I’m right here. I have you.”

He repeats it until I feel the panic subside and his words settle into my bones.

The rise and fall of his chest slow the rise and fall of mine. The rhythm of his heart mollifies the rhythm of mine.

Maybe I’ll be humiliated about this later, but right now, all I notice is the sturdy warmth and foreign calm that comes with being held by someone else. Him.

Through the door, the conversation shifts to utility costs, but in this closet and with Gavin’s arms wrapped around me, what was dire becomes safe and sends me tumbling straight off a cliff edge and into a freefall.