Page 32 of The Making of Marnie Jones

She snorted. “Never going to happen, buddy.”

“If I need to reach you?”

A fair-enough question, and it presented a conundrum. Still, she hesitated because aside from Loriana and Seth, no one had her phone number.

No one.

A few people had the number to an answering service she used, but it also took time for them to contact her. The quickest way for Jake to contact her was through her cell phone. Logical, right? Suddenly the panic encroached again. Like an oppressive being, it enveloped her like a thick fog. Her chest constricted and she closed her eyes, searching in vain for her place of peace. Her place of reassurance. Her place of security.

“Marnie?”

She held up her hand, silently pleading for another moment. A moment she used to center herself. Without opening her eyes, she recited her phone number. And just like that, the panic receded. She’d retaken control of the situation. She slowly opened her eyes.

And smiled.

“Can you tell me what happened?” His eyes were wide with bewilderment.

“I managed to avoid having a panic attack.” Her confidence faltered. “They’re coming less frequently—and I can usually handle them.”

“How often…if you don't mind me asking.”

She worried her lower lip between her teeth. How much to reveal? Her episodes were none of his business, of course, except the two of them were to be in close quarters for the next few days. She’d lay even odds she was going to have issues.

Painfully, she surrendered. “I still get them from time to time. I'm not good with confined spaces, and I still get flashbacks. If I see someone who looks like him, then I literally have a flight response.”

“You know he's dead.”

“Doesn't mean I'm not afraid of him coming back.”

Jake’s expression was attentive and encouraging, but she assumed he was humoring her. Her fears weren’t founded in reality, and she understood that. They were her fears, however, and they were real to her.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I need to know?”

She studied him with interest. Clearly, he was a thoughtful man, but she couldn't expect him to deal with her neuroses.

“You being aware will be enough.”

“Watch the plates, they’re hot.” Kristin placed the food in front of them.

They’d been so focused on each other, they hadn’t noticed her approach.

She served the dishes, and offered a genuine smile. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

They both shook their heads, and Kristin departed, blonde ponytail swinging.

Marnie needed to eat, but at the sight of her food, her appetite waned.

He stopped, fork poised in the air. “Are you okay?”

She met his gaze. “What if you’re wrong? What if this isn’t the best thing for Olivia?”

“I’ll apologize to both of you, and try something else—but that’s not going to happen. Call it a gut instinct, but you’re exactly what Olivia needs.” His face was set, a grim line of determination on his lips.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

He put his fork down. “I haven’t been sure of anything since the day Olivia went missing. Four years of captivity, eighteen months after her recovery, and there hasn’t been a day I haven’t worried about her.” He swallowed, his throat working. “I could try to swagger around and claim I know what’s best for everyone, but that’s bull and we both know it.”

Maybe he does get it.Maybe his insecurities about this were as great as hers. Maybe, together, they could get through this.

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