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This is very much new to me, and I'm still trying to get my mind to process everything.
What helps is focusing on what needs to be done. One task at a time."
At least that works for me. I have no idea if it will for her, but I'm hoping.
She just gives me a nod, and I know she's not ready to talk just yet.
It's not even a few minutes later when a car drives past us and it backfires right in front of us.
The bang is loud, and black smoke quickly pumps out of the exhaust pipe.
A sharp intake of breath pulls my attention away from the car and over to Diana. She sits rigid, but I can see her chest moving rapidly, too rapid for it to be normal breathing.
"Shit," I mumble as I start to pull over to the side of the road. Thankfully, we are on a back road again, so I don't have to worry about a lot of traffic driving by us. I reach over and place my hand on her knee as I speak. "It's okay, you're okay. Try and take a slow deep breath for me."
I know she's having a panic attack.
The car's backfire sounded like a gunshot, and even though we didn't hear gunshots at the wedding, it would have triggered the trauma from just yesterday.
I put my car into park and hit my hazard lights.
I toss a quick look over my shoulder to confirm that no cars are coming before I get out and run over to Diana's side of the car.
I open her door, reaching in to unbuckle her before I bend down and slide her legs out towards me.
"You're okay, Sweetheart. You're safe."
I run my hands up and down her upper legs, trying to get her to snap back into the present.
I don't have much experience with someone having a panic attack.
I've seen my mother having one twice, but back then I was too young to even understand what was happening.
All I knew was that she was struggling, and I wanted to make it better.
I continue to tell her that it's okay.
I know it won't be, not for a little while for her, but eventually, she will be okay.
She will heal from this, I will make sure of it.
It takes a good fifteen minutes before her breathing starts to even out, and I know she's coming back to me.
"You're okay," I say once again.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. That's never happened before." Her voice shakes, and I can see that she's confused as to what just happened.
"You had a panic attack. A car backfired in front of us, and it triggered the attack," I calmly explain.
"A gunshot, it sounded like a gunshot." She says, and I can see her mind coming back to her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen."
"You have nothing to apologize for. You've been through a lot in the past thirty-six hours, you are allowed to not be okay."
The last thing I want is for her to feel like she has to put on a brave front with me.
She doesn't need to be okay.
