“You’ve probably moved on, right? Husband…” I swallowed a huge lump in my throat before I continued, “Kids?”
She giggled, and my head snapped back to her. How was any part of that question funny?
She waved her hand back and forth as she sobered up. “No, nothing like that. Sorry for laughing.”
I glanced at the part of my arm where her hand had been and frowned. “What’s funny about it? You’re a beautiful woman, Evelyn. Successful.”
“Well, to be honest, it took me a long time to get over you. Um...” She pushed up her glasses as my heart thudded against my ribcage. I still wasn’t over her. “I had one relationship after you, but that didn’t end well.”
Her eyes shifted to the side and became glazed with a glossy layer of unshed tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly, and a painful tightness began in my throat. What had happened to her to cause such a reaction?
Her lower lip quivered as she formed words. “He wasn’t a good person. I should’ve listened to Mags when she told me to stay away, but I was so lonely...” She began, yet whatever had followed was engulfed in the tremors.
I’d seen panic attacks before. When I was admitted to the hospital, I’d watched a few of my buddies experience PTSD first-hand. They’d been through hell and back, but what the fuck would’ve had to of happened to her to make her have them?
“Evelyn?” I scooted my chair closer to her and grabbed her hands in mine. As soon as her hands were wrapped in mine, the tremors stilled.
Her eyes popped open as if she were aware of her surroundings again. She squeezed my hands and fear flashed behind her eyes before relief replaced it. “I’m sorry, I’d been doing so well up until a few days ago.”
“Well with what?” Having her this close to me, and so clearly distraught, made me want to pull her back into my life and protect her. But I was fucked up, and she probably resented the hell out of me. I didn’t want to push boundaries, but I wasn’t going to sit idly by and let her suffer if I could stop it either.
“I used to have panic attacks. They began when I…” Her shoulders slumped. “About two years ago. Then, a year ago I got rid of the source of my anxiety, and it became manageable after a while. For some reason, I’ve been getting anxious again.”
I studied her facial expression. Her lips were pulled into a scowl. She let out a heavy sigh as she stared at our hands.
I ground my molars together. “Did that fucker hurt you?”
She froze, her hands going limp in mine, and her wide eyes met mine—telling me everything I needed to know. My hands gripped hers tight. If only I’d have fucking been around. Or stayed in contact.
“Flynn, it’s a complicated part of my life. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I”d much rather catch up with you.” She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
I pulled my hands from hers and raked them through the length of my hair. Her eyes followed the movement.
“I like the way you grew out your hair. It suits you,” she said in a soft voice.
How could she brush off her panic so easily? I had to find out exactly what happened, and I had to do whatever I could to help heal her. “Thanks.”
The door screeched open, and Ma came barreling in with the bread. “I hope I wasn’t gone too long,” she said, but her smug expression told me she’d meant to take her sweet ass time.
Dinner went by without a hiccup. Ma and Evelyn chattered back and forth, pulling me in for my input every now and then. My mind was swirling with scenarios that made my blood boil. I needed to know what happened while I’d been gone, and I craved the comfort Evelyn provided when she was around.
I’d missed her like I’d missed part of my soul.
After we ate, Evelyn helped Ma do the dishes. I hung back in the living room and typed a quick text to Oliver.
Me: Dude. Ma fucking invited Evelyn over for dinner. She’s a bombshell and everything I miss. But she basically told me she was in an abusive relationship that left her with panic attacks. You deal with them. How bad does trauma have to be to cause them? And how can I help her?
A few minutes later, he replied. I used to tease him about his phone being glued to his hand, but right then, I was thankful for it.
Oliver:Shit, dude. Panic attacks can be caused by a lot of shit. People have different severities of trauma. It all depends, but just be available to her. Give her your number. Let her know you care. Don’t fuck it up.
Me: Thanks, man.
Oliver was right. I needed to be there. That was the one fucking thing I always screwed up on. This time, I’d make damn sure I would stick around—if she wanted me to. Hell, I didn’t even know if she wanted me around. We hadn’t talked about how I up and left town—and her with it.
Small footsteps coming close made me look up from the phone screen. Evelyn had a hesitant smile on her face as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I’m heading home. It’s late.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I hoisted myself off the couch and caught my balance.
“You better walk the lady out,” Ma called from the kitchen.
I chuckled and nodded my head toward the door. “After you.”
She walked ahead, and I walked behind her until we reached her car. She paused before opening the door. “Listen, I’m
