Page 23 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

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In my new office, I plonk myself down and yank my tie to the side, swiftly unsnapping the top button of my shirt.

It’s happening again.

The shortness of breath, the ringing ears, the goddamn awful pressure in my chest. As I sit swamped with sensation, I can remember not one bit of the advice I googled about dealing with panic attacks.

Perhaps some water? There must be a mini-fridge in here somewhere. I jump up and look in the sideboard and, bingo. I take out a bottle of water, unscrew the top and try to remind myself not to chug it thereby adding choking to the list.

It’s as I’m bringing the bottle back down to the desk that I notice a square brown leather box with a ribbon tied around it, resting on top of today’s Times crossword.

Eternally grateful for the distraction, I reach out, sweep the box to one side, and focus on the crossword.

Some of the pressure in my chest eases and I crack a smile thinking how Anya knows me so well.

I love crosswords.

They’re one of the few things I brought from childhood into adulthood that I don’t associate any negativity with.

My gaze seeks out the longest word in the middle of the puzzle and I read the clue for it.

Roman poet Horace translation, three words

I open the top drawer of my desk and the ubiquitous lone pen rolls into my palm. On the crossword, I draw two heavy lines in the long row of boxes to demark the three words.

Horace… Horace… Oh, I’ve got it: Carpe Diem. Translation – seize the day

With heart rate nearly back to normal and my breathing coming much easier now, I reach for the leather box that accompanied the crossword.

I might be breathing easier but I notice there’s a tell-tale shaking in my hand.

Maybe it’s a ring?

No. Anya would never take the lead in a marriage proposal.

She’s too traditional.

It turns out so am I as I push back on the knowledge that just because Anya and I have discussed where we’d both like to be in our careers before we get married, choosing when I propose means I will have nixed any feeling of being ‘levelled-up’ beforehand.

Besides, the box can’t have a ring in it, anyway. It’s far too big.

I rip off the ribbon and open the box.

A very expensive statement watch is nestled inside along with a note in Anya’s precise script, saying, ‘I knew you could do it. You’re going to be great. Love, Anya xx’

I frown, because honestly the watch is beautiful…

But also, nothing like the simple, leather-strapped analogue watch that my grandfather wrapped around my wrist the day he came to visit me in hospital with a stack of crossword puzzles. The day he sat with me and held my hand and told me he knew I was tired. Understood I was frustrated. Even a little scared. But that the watch, so loose as he put it on my wrist, had magic inside the tiny cogs that kept it going.

That when I felt the cogs were slowing and that time was stretching unbearably it would remind me to use that time to imagine all the great things I was going to achieve when I was better. And then, when it sped up, it meant that I was ready. I was well.

And it was time to live life…

It was time to seize the day.

Chapter Eight

TIME AFTER TIME

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