Page 55 of Meant for Mayhem

He shook his head. “Not if it helps you, no. Panic attacks are an odd thing. Sometimes we can tell exactly what triggers them, and sometimes it’s not quite that nuanced. Your anxiety sounds situational to me, and you’re seeking comfort. Familiarity. You’re asking for the people you love to be with you should you need them, and I think that’s a valid request with everything you’ve been through. Missing out on so many nights without your daughter when you’ve already missed so many… I get it.”

How the hell did this man see right through me in less than an hour?

He didn’t wait for me to respond, though, instead launching into what he called my “toolkit”—things I could do or think when those symptoms of a panic attack were surfacing again. I didn’t write them down, but I was listening. Absorbing everything he had to say, because it made sense.

“Feelings aren’t facts, Mikko,” he said when our hour was up. “Remember that, okay? Just because you feel Leena might be in danger if you’re not there—because maybe once upon a time she was and you can’t go back and fix that—doesn’t mean that every time you leave her now she is in danger. Those are not the same thing.”

I wanted to believe him. In some ways, I understood what he meant. But it didn’t take away the fear that my absence—whether or not it was my choice—had allowed some of these things to happen to my daughter.

We hung up a few minutes later, and I sat there feeling like I’d finished a workout in here instead of a damn therapy session.

When I opened the door, Shannon was in the middle of the foyer, pushing a box across the floor. She pointed at the elevator across from her. “It’s beeping. Why is it beeping?”

Before I even made it to her, the doors opened.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the missus,” Logan said as he stepped into the foyer.

The hesitancy on Shannon’s face dropped, recognizing my friend. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the village idiot.”

“I’m touched you remember me. Although not so touched that I forgive you for not inviting me to the wedding.”

“Take that up with him.” Shannon resumed pushing her box of belongings down the hallway toward the guest room. “He was in charge of the guest list.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Logan threw himself onto my couch. “I see the honeymoon is going well. Already moving to the guest room.”

I sat down next to him, hands resting on my knees. “Not like I expect her to stay in my room with me.”

“What a good waste of all that sexual tension.” He kicked the edge of the whiteboard on the coffee table. “Did you find yourself a little nerdette, Meeks?”

“Better a nerd than a dumbass,” Shannon said, walking back into the living room to join us.

I couldn’t fight the smile that spread over my face when she sat on the couch opposite us, pulling her legs up under her and getting comfortable.

“Quit insulting me. I’m falling in love.”

Shannon rolled her eyes, then reached up to adjust the bun on top of her head. “I’m assuming he knows about our situation?”

I couldn’t get a word in edge-wise before Logan said, “That this is temporary and I’ll have a chance with you by next off-season? Yeah, baby.”

“Excellent. I’ll keep you in mind if I suffer a traumatic brain injury between now and then.”

Logan put a hand over his heart. “Oh, that hurts.” He threw a hand out, punching me in the shoulder. “You gonna let her talk to me like that?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

Shannon grinned, and I winked back.

“Wow. Okay.” He looked back at Shannon. “You know what? I can forgive you because I like you.”

“That makes one of us,” Shannon said.

I laughed again, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

Logan put his hands behind his head, looking over at me. “So when are you back on the ice? I need my buddy back.”

“Soon. Just had my first psych appointment, and we go from here.”

“And how are you feeling?” Logan said. “Should you lie down on the couch and practice? A little role play? You two could make it sexy, and I could watch.”