Page 115 of Breathe Again

Zale, standing ten feet in front of her, saw them file in quietly, his face wet with his own tears.

Rhys looked around and quickly assessed the situation.

Willa pressed her hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide and stunned.

Bex tucked her fisted hands under her chin, tears streamed down her face.

Zale could still hear her screams echoing in his head.

Rhys looked to him for direction, permission, pointing to himself and making a motion as if to put his arms around Mara, his eyebrows raised in question.

Zale, anguished that he could not comfort her, gave a barely perceptible nod for Rhys to move in to restrain her.

Rhys moved up quietly behind Mara and gently encircled her wrists and wrapped them around her waist with his arms, caging her against his chest, his face bent into the space between her neck and her shoulder to prevent her from hitting his face with the back of her head. She bucked hard, trying to get away from him.

“It’s Rhys, Mara,” he murmured as she continued, not hearing, throwing her head back over his shoulder, straining against his strong arms, screaming her anguish.

Bex and Willa moved around in front of her, hoping she’d see them and calm, but neither could speak. They stood frozen, tears streaming down both of their faces now. Willa hugged herself around her waist, and Rebecca held in her own sobs with her hands over her mouth.

Rhys started talking low in Mara’s ear. “We’ve got you, Mara, we’re going to help you.”

She stilled a bit, and sobbed, rolling her head back and forth on his shoulder. “I’ll save myself this time.”

“You will, you will save yourself, we’re just going to help. Rebecca is here, Willa is here, too. Rebecca, sweetness, get Mara two ice cubes, one for each hand.”

Bex ran to the kitchen and pulled open the freezer.

Zale took in the scene and finally shook off his stupor. He paced back and forth, watching Mara, wanting to move in to take her in his arms, but afraid that she’d deny him again. Seeing his little wife dwarfed and overpowered by the big man behind her sickened him. Even though he could see that she was calming, he abhorred the whole scene playing out in front of him, and he desperately wanted to be the one to hold her through this.

Why didn’t he see this coming? He’d had no idea what had been brewing. He had no idea because he’d lost focus on his marriage and missed all the signs. Anger with himself warred with grief for his wife’s pain, and fear for their future.

“You’re in pain Mara? You pull your hair when the pain gets bad?” Rhys asked her in his matter-of-fact way.

“Yes,” she hiccoughed.

“I’m going to pull your hair back for you, is that okay?”

“Yes.”

Rhys wrapped her long hair around his wrist and pulled her head back gently.

Zale could not believe what he was hearing and seeing. He shook his head like an angry bull and moved forward. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rhys?”

Rhys looked up at Zale and the sadness and compassion in his eyes stopped him in his tracks.

Willa moved in quickly to stand beside Zale, her hand on his heaving back, offering him her support, taking comfort also in his closeness.

“My wife had borderline personality disorder, too, Zale. She needed strong sensory input from the outside to counteract the pain on the inside. Please,” he held Zale’s eyes, “give it a minute to see if it will work for your wife.”

He allowed it because God knew he had no idea what to do for her. Impotent rage seethed just under the surface of his skin, and he moved closer, Willa beside him, but he did not interfere.

Rhys kept one arm wrapped around her ribs, pinning both of her wrists, and holding her close. He wrapped her long hair around his other fist. He put just enough pressure on her scalp to get her attention, he tucked her face into his neck and pressed his scruffy beard against her temple, giving her as much sensory input as he could to bring her back.

Mara stilled and closed her eyes, her sobs abating, her body relaxing. Rhys released her arms immediately but continued to support her around her waist. Bex returned with the ice.

“Rebecca has ice for you, Mara,” he continued in his low, husky voice. “Rebecca, sweetness, put an ice cube in each of Mara’s hands and close her fingers over them.”

Mara sobbed, “Bex,” when she felt Bex’ fingers closing over hers. They stood together, Mara safe in Rhys’ embrace, Rebecca’s loving hands gently cupping hers while she squeezed the ice.

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