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Vince
“Hey, babe! I’m home.” I close the door behind me. Fuck, I still love calling this home. I love living with her, love waking up in her arms, love doing all the boring, mundane day-to-day shit with her. “Mai? You here?”
Her car’s in the driveway, but she might be over at the house, though I don’t know why she would be. I don’t think anyone else is home.
I make my way to the bedroom, ready to put on some comfortable clothes. When I swing the door open, I see Maia lying on the bed, a pillow over her head. As unease grows in my gut, I drop all my stuff and squat down next to her, running a hand over her arm. “Maia, what’s wrong?”
Slowly, she lifts the pillow off her head. Her face is pale and her voice is hushed and raw when she speaks. “I need to tell you something.”
My stomach lurches and I feel the telltale tightening in my chest, but I do my best to push it away. “You can tell me anything. What’s going on?”
She pushes herself up to sitting and I join her on the edge of the bed. “Okay, before I say this, I need you to know it didn’t mean anything. I—”
“Tell me.” I barely get the words out before my chest tightens more.
“I kissed Braden.”
I launch off the bed. Her words too much to take. The tightening in my chest has turned to a gripping, pounding feeling preventing me from breathing.
She stands up and hurries over to me, grabbing my hands. “It wasn’t like akisskiss. Our lips were fully closed. It was just—nostalgia and closure and—” She tilts her head, watching me carefully. “What’s happening right now?” I squirm as I try to get a breath, and her eyes go wide. “Are you having a panic attack?” I can’t say anything, but I don’t have to. My eyes say it all. “Come here.”
She drags me back to the bed and pushes me down, then climbs on next to me, never letting go of my hands. “Look at me. Look in my eyes. I’m right here. You’re safe. Don’t think about anything else. Just focus on the feeling of your hands in mine. Now close your eyes. Tell me something you hear.”
“Um… birds in the tree outside.”
“Good. Something you can smell.”
“Your lotion. Your—”
I get in one full deep breath, then launch off the bed again.
“I can’t—” I pace back and forth a few steps before stopping and staring at her as she rises from the bed. “Are you going back to him?”
Her eyes nearly bug out. “No. Not at all. I was saying—maybe you didn’t hear me. It was… goodbye. I know that probably sounds dumb and doesn’t seem fair for me to say, but I spent a whole year trying to move on and deal with everything with no closure. All I had was confusion and drama and anger. Then there was this concentrated period of time where we dealt with two or more years of baggage. When we walked out of our last counseling session today, it was bittersweet. We had talked with the therapist about how it all started, and when we stood by our cars afterward, it felt like the true endpoint to everything. I’m sorry for that—that I got involved with you when I was still unraveling myself from him. It probably wasn’t fair. But I don’t regret it, not for a second. Besides Harper, you are the best thing in my life. The kiss didn’t mean anything besidesgoodbyeto that part of our lives.”
I take her in, the sincerity in her eyes. The guilt. The pain. I know she wouldn’t consciously lie to me. This happened a few hours ago, and she didn’t try to hide it. She told me right away. But there’s something nagging at me.
“If it didn’t mean anything, why are you so upset?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Because I love you. I never want to hurt you. No matter what the intention behind it, the kiss still happened, and that was disrespectful to you. I’m sorry. I—”
She snuffles back tears and I realize how deeply this is affecting her. And that she just put all that aside to walk me through a panic attack.
I step to her and pull her into my arms.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters.
“Do you have any doubts about us? Any feelings for him still?”
She pushes back and looks at me, eyes wide and tears still dripping out of them. “No. No doubts about us. I know it’s hard for me to let my guard down sometimes, but it’s not because of you or us. I trust you with everything inside me. And more importantly, no, I don’t have any feelings for Braden. Not romantic ones. Those have been gone for a long time. You’re the only one who makes my heart pound, who sweeps me off my feet, who makes me feel like I can do anything as long as you’re with me. You’re the one I want. Always.”
I pull her closer and sweep my hand into her hair before capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss, the kind that hopefully lets her know exactly how I feel for her. “Then it’s all fine,” I whisper against her lips. She opens her mouth to respond, but I sweep my tongue inside before she can, devouring the small squeak she emits.
She leans into me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me closer, kissing me fervently. I dip her back as our kiss deepens, bodies pressing tighter together like our souls are trying to get to one another.
Abruptly, she yanks her lips away and pushes her hands against my shoulders. “Vince, wait. You had a panic attack. I’ve never seen you have a panic attack. I know you said you almost had a couple at the hospital. Have you had others?”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t. But I’ve had a harder time keeping my anxiety under control since I’ve been with you.”
