Page 15 of King of Guilt

Rushing into the ladies’ room, I ran into a stall and locked the door, feeling every muscle in my body tremble. To ease the shaking, I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging myself so tightly and whispering, “It’s ok. It’s over. He won’t hurt you. He can’t hurt you. Nobody can. It’s ok... it’s alright.”

Sensing a panic attack coming on like a tidal wave, I knew it wasn’t unstoppable. Summoning everything that I had learned in therapy in the year that had followed our breakup, I closed the toilet bowl and sat on top, closing my eyes. I began to take deep, calming breaths, focusing on the air coming in through my nose and escaping from between my lips.

In… out…

In… out…

I felt my heart beat so violently, raging inside my chest, and soldiered on.

In… out…

In… out…

I didn’t know how long I stayed in there, but it must have been a few minutes because I heard the door outside click open. The laughter of two women soon followed, signaling that I could no longer keep myself locked up in here.

Standing up, I shook my hands and took one last deep breath, exhaling sharply before flushing the toilet and walking out to wash my hands.

As soon as I returned to the table, still slightly shaken, I noticed my dad’s glare as his eyes pierced into mine. My initial thought was that Dean had said something that upset him, but then he enunciated, “Was that Kyle Savant?”

Keeping my head high, I lowered myself onto the chair, my hands clinging to the edge of the table for support. “Yes. He sends his regards.”

Dad snorted, smirking and shaking his head as he turned to Dean. “The nerve of that asshole. Can you believe it? After everything he put her through? Regards, my ass!”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and turned to me with a questioning look. I quickly put my hand over dad’s, squeezing it tightly. “Dad, stop it. We’re not going to ruin our evening over that.”

In the background, a song was just ending, and another was beginning; a much softer one with an intro of violins. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, Dean abruptly stood up. “Emma, you know I love this song.” He extended his hand over to me. “C’mon, we can’t miss it.”

Slightly confused, I threw my hand in his and followed his lead, mustering a smile as I addressed dad, “We’ll be back after this one.”

On the dance floor, Dean started leading, and my feet refused to cooperate. Nonetheless, his physical strength and impeccable dancing form made me feel engulfed, protected, even if I tripped. His eyes didn’t leave my face as he studied every blink and twitch. “What was that about?” he finally asked.

“Nothing, it was just my ex.”

“Ugly breakup?”

I quickly nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” he asked with a different tone. Did I hear genuine care in there?

“Dean, I’m fine. It was forever ago.”

“Then how come Patrick got so worked up?”

“It’s just dad.” I shrugged it off like it was nothing. “He’s always on edge.”

Dean had his own sorrow to deal with, and none of my troubles concerned him. Oversharing wasn’t a part of our contract, nor was Dean expected to step up and be my knight in shining armor.

As the music hit an emotional crescendo, Dean expertly twirled me around, spun me away with my hand still in his, and then pulled me back to stop against his chest. Before I could catch my breath, he spun me on my heel and dipped me backward and what a fall that was. As I lost all control of my weight, I felt gravity take a hold of me, my head tossed backward before his strong arm caught me from behind. A couple dancing next to us let out an impressed “Whoa!”, while my heart nearly fell at Dean’s feet.

When he gracefully pulled me back up to stand and continue with the dance, it hit me…

In Dean’s arms, I was relaxed and almost carefree. I wasn’t worried, afraid, or in the least bit apprehensive. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so comfortable in such physical proximity with a man, let alone allowing him to throw me around like that, knowing that he was going to catch me. It was as though for the first time in my life—yes, my entire life—I felt safe and taken care of... because of a man’s arms around me.

Wasn’t it unfortunate that he wasn’t mine for him to assume such a role? And that I wasn’t his to protect?

When the song was over, Dean and I broke our brief embrace, stepping away from each other as if pulled apart by fate. I was breathless, wondering if any of that had touched him the way it did me.

But the moment was over.

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