Page 119 of Crushed By Love

“Don’t worry,” he adds quickly. “They’ll accept us.”

But I’m not so sure about that.

That ice sinks deep into my belly but I keep my mouth shut. Ethan sounds so confident and I don’t want to upset him. I know I want to be with him, but Sybil made really good points, and Amelia and Gregory are probably going to feel the exact same way. There’s a very good chance my family won’t accept our relationship and I really will have to choose.

Is Ethan clouded by love? Is that why he’s being so positive? I don’t know what to say to him that won’t come out all pessimistic. Turns out, I don’t have to say anything, because Ethan leans up to kiss me, his mouth lazily exploring mine until passion takes hold of us again and my thoughts give way to actions.

The next morning I wake up in my own bed, but the panic is already clawing up my throat and squeezing off my air supply. My skin crawls with itchy heat, stress hives forming.

I sit up and grab my throat, sucking in oxygen. Tears roll from the corners of my eyes, salty tracks leaving reminders on my cheeks that I am still Arden Davis. It doesn’t matter that I changed my last name to Laurence, I can’t erase the past.

Breath, I tell myself. Remember what Dr. Cory taught you. You’re overwhelmed and you drank too much last night. That’s why you’re having anxiety. This will pass.

Just breathe.

My brain wants to cling onto my past, to insist I can’t get through this. I’ll always be that girl who experienced years of childhood neglect. I’ll always have to live with generalized anxiety disorder.

In for one, two, three.

I hold for another three seconds and let the fear pass through me, allowing myself to feel the darkness move though my body without inviting it to stay.

Release for one, two, three, four, five, six.

I continue Dr. Cory’s method of breathing until I slowly come back to myself, my thoughts evening out and my physical reactions softening. After a few minutes, I’m not so sweaty, not so itchy, not overcome with unwanted adrenaline.

Despite everything, I smile.

Every time I can work myself through an anxiety attack and come out feeling alright about it, I get a little bit prouder, my self-confidence growing. I’m learning to have my own back.

With a final deep breath, I peel myself from my bed, go to the bathroom, and splash my face with cold water, then go down to breakfast still in my pajamas.

We’ve got a whole spread set up for us today, and even Sybil has returned from her night with Reid to enjoy it. We’re all together and enjoy a wonderful breakfast, joking and laughing and eating—the picture of a happy family on a Saturday morning. And when we’re done, my aunt and uncle each give me a hug. Gregory kisses the top of my head and Amelia tells me I’m a sweet girl. Maybe they noticed the red splotches on my neck and knew I needed a little extra love, or maybe they just wanted to remind me that I belong to them.

I can feel their love like it’s a physical thing, something that cannot be easily killed, and I get a sense that it’s all going to be alright. When we get back to the city, I will explain everything. They won’t like me dating Ethan, but they love me, so they’ll understand.

They have to understand.

Fifty-Two

The sunset reminds me of a creamsicle, all dreamy oranges mixed with swathy white clouds. Sitting at the front of my uncle’s sailboat, I bask in the sensation of the ocean air whipping past. Uncle Gregory loves his boats. Not only does he have a yacht currently docked somewhere in the Caribbean, but he’s got a sporty little speedboat and a luxury sailboat both docked here in Nantucket.

Tonight he finally convinced me to go out on the speedboat.

Hayes and Sybil have way more experience on this thing than I do. As far as the Laurence’s are concerned, I’ve never been on a boat before at all. Ethan’s boat is a secret I’m holding close to my chest, even if it does make me feel guilty.

It’s my last day on Nantucket and I’m not risking seeing Ethan tonight. I’ve seen him everyday since we got back together and our affair is starting to eat away at me. I don’t know how this is going to play out, but I just know I’ll be with him.

We speed out from the docks and float for a while in the Nantucket Sound. Aunt Amelia pulls out a bottle of champagne and we toast to our successful family vacation. “I have to hand it to you.” She smiles at her daughter. “You were right about selling the Hamptons house and building out here. It’s so much more . . . rustic.”

I nearly choke on my expensive champagne. If they consider their upscale Nantucket home rustic, I can only imagine how fancy the Hamptons one was.

“I like it better too,” Sybil agrees. “And I love that Nantucket isn’t nearly as crowded as the Hamptons.”

Hayes grumbles that he liked the Hamptons house because he had friends there and Chandler says that both are fun, but he likes being at home best.

“Cheers to many new memories here.” Uncle Gregory raises his flute and we clink them together. It’s the kind of surreal moment I never thought would happen for me.

The guilt deepens, wedging itself right there next to the gratitude.

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