and help her up and out of the tub. She seems uncaring, almost unaware as she stands gloriously naked before me. I'm trying hard not to notice the heavy globes of her breasts, the slight swell of her stomach, the distinct flare of her hips and the dark patch of curls hiding things I shouldn't be craving right now. Right. Like that's possible. Without wasting too much time to think about what I'm doing, I quickly dry her off the best I can, while she appears to withdraw into herself again. Pulling my bathrobe from the back of the door, I wrap it around her, lift her up and carry her to my bed, where she curls into a ball the moment I remove my hands. Fuck.
"You gotta talk to me, honey. I'm worried about you and if you don't talk to me, I'm taking you to the ER, whether you like it or not," I warn her while I strip out of my now soaking wet sweats and pull on some dry boxers before turning back to the bed to find her looking at me.
"No hospital."
I'm scared. Scared of myself right now. Scared of this out of control feeling I’m having that the world is closing in on me. It's so familiar. I've been here before and I don't want to be here again. I don't want to deal. I want to disappear where nothing can touch me. This overwhelming panic paralyzes me. I haven't experienced anything close to it in many years. I just want to feel the safety of those arms again.
When Joe threatens to take me to the hospital, I have to speak up. I watch him as he takes off his wet pants and am apparently not too out of it to notice his fine ass. But his boxers are in place before he turns around when I speak and he walks over and crawls into bed beside me pulling me to his chest. A chest I felt earlier but didn't get to admire. Now I can and I can't help but trace my fingers through the soft light chest hair that covers a large tattoo that runs the width of his pectorals. I'm not about to lift my head and examine it closer, because the steady beat of his heart under my cheek is comforting as is the soothing hand he’s drawing through my hair. When he starts talking I can feel the deep rumble of his voice come from his chest.
"Please talk to me, honey. Whatever is eating you up in silence right now, is much better dealt with out in the open. Try and put it to words so I can help you."
I try a few times, eager to get myself out of this endless spin, but it's so hard finding words.
"I'm afraid..." finally bursts from my mouth, but that's all I can get out.
"Okay. I get that," Joe murmurs calmly. "I'm thinking there's a lot of shit going down all at the same time, and although I have no kids, I imagine there’s nothing like fearing for your child. Am I right?"
I simply nod against his chest, my heart rate settling with every beat of his steady one.
"I haven't had one in a long time."
"A what? A panic attack?"
I'm only mildly surprised he pegs my breakdown correctly, considering he's dealt with an unstable ex before. Pretty sure he'll be backing away soon enough now, so I might as well come all out.
"There was a time I had them frequently, but I haven't had one in a long time; not since I left Phoenix."
"What triggers them? Do you know?"
"Can be different things, but usually something that overwhelms me... a feeling or a situation. When I feel trapped by circumstances or emotions or even by lack of control. I don't really know. It's so hard to put my finger on it. I guess trying to manage what is happening around me right now, and trying to ignore the desire to run and hide. It's just so much..." I start crying again, pissed at myself for doing it but not able to stop all the same.
"Shhhh, let's deal with logistics first, alright? Always easier to work with concrete stuff and maybe the edge will come off. I can see a few concerns, but let me know if I miss any."
Listening to Joe helps me sort my thoughts into better focus as he lists safety, housing, work for me, and school for Fox, as main areas that need to be addressed.
"Since we
"You gotta talk to me, honey. I'm worried about you and if you don't talk to me, I'm taking you to the ER, whether you like it or not," I warn her while I strip out of my now soaking wet sweats and pull on some dry boxers before turning back to the bed to find her looking at me.
"No hospital."
I'm scared. Scared of myself right now. Scared of this out of control feeling I’m having that the world is closing in on me. It's so familiar. I've been here before and I don't want to be here again. I don't want to deal. I want to disappear where nothing can touch me. This overwhelming panic paralyzes me. I haven't experienced anything close to it in many years. I just want to feel the safety of those arms again.
When Joe threatens to take me to the hospital, I have to speak up. I watch him as he takes off his wet pants and am apparently not too out of it to notice his fine ass. But his boxers are in place before he turns around when I speak and he walks over and crawls into bed beside me pulling me to his chest. A chest I felt earlier but didn't get to admire. Now I can and I can't help but trace my fingers through the soft light chest hair that covers a large tattoo that runs the width of his pectorals. I'm not about to lift my head and examine it closer, because the steady beat of his heart under my cheek is comforting as is the soothing hand he’s drawing through my hair. When he starts talking I can feel the deep rumble of his voice come from his chest.
"Please talk to me, honey. Whatever is eating you up in silence right now, is much better dealt with out in the open. Try and put it to words so I can help you."
I try a few times, eager to get myself out of this endless spin, but it's so hard finding words.
"I'm afraid..." finally bursts from my mouth, but that's all I can get out.
"Okay. I get that," Joe murmurs calmly. "I'm thinking there's a lot of shit going down all at the same time, and although I have no kids, I imagine there’s nothing like fearing for your child. Am I right?"
I simply nod against his chest, my heart rate settling with every beat of his steady one.
"I haven't had one in a long time."
"A what? A panic attack?"
I'm only mildly surprised he pegs my breakdown correctly, considering he's dealt with an unstable ex before. Pretty sure he'll be backing away soon enough now, so I might as well come all out.
"There was a time I had them frequently, but I haven't had one in a long time; not since I left Phoenix."
"What triggers them? Do you know?"
"Can be different things, but usually something that overwhelms me... a feeling or a situation. When I feel trapped by circumstances or emotions or even by lack of control. I don't really know. It's so hard to put my finger on it. I guess trying to manage what is happening around me right now, and trying to ignore the desire to run and hide. It's just so much..." I start crying again, pissed at myself for doing it but not able to stop all the same.
"Shhhh, let's deal with logistics first, alright? Always easier to work with concrete stuff and maybe the edge will come off. I can see a few concerns, but let me know if I miss any."
Listening to Joe helps me sort my thoughts into better focus as he lists safety, housing, work for me, and school for Fox, as main areas that need to be addressed.
"Since we
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