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“Maybe not. Look, I don't like anybody worrying about me.”
Grant was quiet. He felt angry, and Grant never got angry. He was easygoing.
“When people care about you, they worry. Like Daphne cares. Diego cares. I'm sure your sisters do. We all care.”
“I know.”
Feeling stubborn, I crossed my arms, twining my forearms together. “Look, it doesn't work for me if you're going to be hovering and worried about everything I do. I don't need to report back when I have an issue. I'm taking medication. It's going to be fine.”
Grant closed his eyes. Opening them, he shook his head slowly. “You just don't get it. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Because I am stubborn,” I replied, not even caring how mulish I sounded.
“You know, my mom didn't tell us she was having issues until it was too late. For what it's worth, she didn't know until it was too late. You actually know. It really hurts people when they want to help but can’t.”
He stood and stalked away, sprinting up the stairs. His bedroom door slammed shut.
I was still annoyed, but I also felt twinges of guilt stinging in my heart. I'd be damned if I was going to apologize. I waited until I heard him go into the bathroom and back into his bedroom before I thought about going upstairs. Even after that, I sat quietly in the living room, working on my laptop. Two hours later, I tiptoed upstairs and spent a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning. I finally gave up around four in the morning and powered my laptop on to do more work.
When I heard Grant get up and shower, I thought about going out and telling him I was sorry and that I understood how he felt about his mom. But I was still feeling stubborn and pressed to explain that we weren't the same. I knew what was wrong, and I was taking medication. It would be fine. I didn't need everybody hovering over me.
ChapterTwenty-Six
HARLEY
“You had one episode where you passed out and another when your heart started racing?” Quinn asked.
“Yeah, I was angry,” I offered with a shrug.
He arched a brow.
“What? I get angry sometimes. Doesn't everyone?”
“Definitely,” he agreed.
“But you strike me as the easygoing type,” I said.
The minute I said that, I thought of Grant, who was easygoing. Quinn chuckled.
“Heightened emotions do affect the heart. Are you still going to yoga?”
“Gemma does a class out at the lodge with us. I also usually go once or twice a week in town.”
“Good.”
“I get that yoga can help me, but how will it help with this?”
Quinn nodded. “Learning to use your breathing to slow down your heart rate is very important. In one of my anatomy classes, a professor said that your lungs and heart are tied together. What one does, the other will follow. You can't consciously bring your heart rate under your control, but you can with your breathing. Use it. It's your friend, and yoga can help with that.”
I wrinkled my nose. “if you say so,” I teased.
Quinn didn’t tease in return. “Getting emotional can affect your pulse. It would be good if you could learn to notice that and slow it down.”
“Well, I did sit down, and I breathed,” I said, feeling defensive about my breathing and getting angry.
Quinn tapped on a few computer keys. “I'm not saying any of this to be judgmental. Most people get mad. I know you're feeling frustrated that you have to deal with this.”
“Well, I am. I'm healthy, and I'm young.”
