Page 10 of Pursued

Standing and moving to my side of the booth, Morgan wraps me in a hug as sobs pour from my body. It’s awkward since we’re in a mini booth, but I appreciate her comfort. We’re making a scene and I need to rein it in, but for now I need this.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this. I wish I knew what to say or how to help you, Soph. I want us to take on Seattle and live our best lives. I’m just worried this will never end. Maybe it’s time to tell your parents. Go home for a few months and see if this guy has given up completely.”

Her words hurt but also make sense. How will I know this is truly over unless I remove myself from the situation and change my number?

“My parents arrive Friday around lunchtime. If anything happens between now and then, I’ll talk to them.”

Happy with my concession, Morgan nods her head and offers me a small smile before moving back to her side. One bite of the stuffed French toast and I don’t bother hiding the moan from deep in my throat. Damn that’s good stuff.

For the rest of our breakfast, we keep our conversation topics light and by the time we finish, I feel better with my breakdown behind me. We walk down the street moving in and out of stores, laughing and teasing one another. It’s a welcome feeling, being free and allowing joy into my day.

Fingering the soft fabric of a hoodie, I lift the price tag and quickly drop it. I’d prefer spending that money on a week’s worth of lattes at my favorite coffee shop. A familiar tone chimes, stopping me in my tracks, my hand extended to a postcard rack. Maybe it’s a commercial on the radio. Or an alarm.

Another chime followed by two more and my heart beats so fast I gasp for air. It can’t be. I have no cell service. Slipping my phone from my purse, I look down and see a series of texts.

Unknown: Where are you?

Unknown: Sophia where have you gone?

Unknown: Answer me, Sophia.

Unknown: Do not ignore me.

“Soph? Are you okay?”

Morgan’s hands rub my arms, goosebumps covering my skin. Her voice is so far away. The buzzing in my ears drowns everything around me to a dull hum.

“Breathe, Soph. You’re going to pass out. Come on. Sit here.”

I allow her to move me around and guide me to a chair before taking my phone from my hands.

“Shit. How is there cell service here?”

“There are a few pockets of service on the island. We happen to be one of them. Is there a problem? Should I call 9-1-1?”

I don’t recognize the second voice as Morgan and the woman continue to talk. A bottle of water is shoved in my hand with instructions to drink. The familiar scent of Morgan’s lavender lotion fills my senses as she embraces me. I’m comforted by the scent and warmth of her hold.

After what feels like an hour but is likely minutes, my heart slows to a more reasonable rate and the sounds around me become clearer. Gasping, I turn to face my best friend. Her eyes are full of tears as she allows me to pull from her hold.

“How? I mean why?”

“The clerk said there a few pockets of service on the island.”

Her hands rub small circles on my back as I work to regulate my breathing. I know what I just experienced was a panic attack. It’s no wonder. I’ve been living in a constant state of anxiety and panic for months.

“Soph, I know you don’t want to hear this but, you have to report this.”

I nod before taking another sip of water. “I’m not ready to go home. Can we just go back to the B&B? Maybe just hangout and read?”

Morgan’s eyes are full of worry. I hate that this look is because of me. “I’ll power down my phone the rest of the weekend. He obviously doesn’t know where we are, so at least we can enjoy the next twenty-four hours.”

She looks to contemplate disagreeing with me but ultimately relents. “Okay but we’re definitely telling your parents.”

For some reason her words spark a little humor and I chuckle.

Chapter 8

Sophia

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