“I’ve got to hang up now to drive, but I’ll see you soon. I’ve still got the spare key; I’ll let myself in. You’ve got this, Mia.”
The line clicked dead.
You’ve got this? Who was Genevieve kidding. Mia had never had anything less in her entire life.
She thrashed on the bed, desperately trying to breathe, her vision flashing between now and scenes from many years ago.
She was just trying to find her phone, which had dropped somewhere on the bed, to call 911, sure she was dying, when the door burst open.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Genevieve gathered Mia into her arms, holding Mia’s head to her chest. “I’ve got you, Mia. You’re having a panic attack. Just breathe for me.”
Mia drew in what felt like her first full breath in weeks. Just being held by Genevieve seemed to ease some of the constriction in her chest. She knew that Genevieve had helped Kate through many panic attacks, and she had refined those skills with Mia.
Mia clutched at Genevieve’s shoulders for dear life, shaking and doing her best to breathe.
“Follow my hand, sweetheart. In… and out… in… and out…”
Mia lost herself in the familiar ritual. Genevieve didn’t stop until her breathing was slow and even, though tears still ran thickly down her face.
Only now that she was calmer did Mia realize what she’d done. She had left Genevieve to protect her from this kind of mental nonsense, and now Mia had gone and drawn her right back into it.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but those weren’t the words that came out. “Stay with me? Just for tonight? Please?”
“Of course, I’m not going anywhere. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Genevieve went briefly to the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth that she used to tenderly wipe Mia’s face. Mia had to admit that she felt better afterward. The idea of sleep wasn’t exactly inviting, but she was exhausted by the ordeal, and when Genevieve coaxed her to lie down again, Mia didn’t resist.
It took a long time for her to drift off again, but eventually, Genevieve’s steady heartbeat and breathing lulled her back to sleep.
When Mia woke, it didn’t take long for the reality of the previous night to come crashing back to her. She could hardly deny that reality when she had one of her legs thrown over Genevieve’s thigh and her arm trapped under Genevieve’s waist.
Mia squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could go back to the previous night and make better life choices.
Her choices had only hurt her more, because she now understood something she hadn’t before.
She had been a fool to let Genevieve go. Genevieve had been willing to walk through this with her, and Mia should have let her. Genevieve was the love of her life, and Mia had thrown that love away.
But it was too late to do anything about that now. Mia loved Genevieve too much to mess around with her again. She knew that if she asked Genevieve to take her back, Genevieve would, which was exactly why Mia couldn’t ask.
She was too unstable to maintain a steady relationship—last night showed that much. If she started again with Genevieve now, she would only hurt her. Genevieve would do everything she could to take care of Mia, and Mia would let her, to Genevieve’s detriment.
Mia knew Genevieve’s history. She wouldn’t let that history repeat itself, not when she had any say in the matter.
“Genevieve. Genevieve, wake up.”
“Mmm?”
Genevieve’s eyes opened, slowly focusing on Mia. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
Mia steeled herself. “You have to go.”
Genevieve’s air of sleepy contentment vanished as she stiffened. “What?”
“You have to go. This was a mistake.”
“How can you say that? After last night… I thought you wanted me.”
I do want you. More than you can possibly imagine.
Mia couldn’t say that, though. She couldn’t allow Genevieve to think there was hope for them. A clean break would be better.