Page 81 of For Butter or Worse
He was quiet, and so was the restaurant, which was odd, considering how full the room was.
“People are staring,” he finally said. “And besides, this isn’t about you. Not everything revolves around you.”
“Nothing revolved around me when we were together. So why should I expect you to take my feelings into consideration now that we’re apart?” She vibrated with rage. She was mad at herself for trusting Charlie enough to come to lunch with him, and at Charlie himself for...everything.
“I didn’t think you’d react this way. I mean, you’re the one who quit the show.” He looked at her like he was truly dumbfounded, like he couldn’t imagine how she could take any of this personally. And she shouldn’t have been surprised—he hadn’t changed at all.
But she had changed, thanks to Leo. She was a better version of herself—she’d become a more attentive friend to Jasmine and sister to Sophie. What she wanted was to be respected and adored by someone, the way Leo had made her feel. And Leo had helped her to see how powerful she was, so she wasn’t about to just sit there and let Charlie walk all over her the way he had throughout their entire relationship.
“You clearly think you still have the power to hurt me, but you don’t, Charlie. I’m done talking to you. I don’t know why I gave you the opportunity to be in the same room as me. Let’s make a promise to never speak again.” She pushed away from the table, causing Charlie’s wineglass to sway, then tip over, sending a wave of red toward his lap, a tiny tidal wave of her fury.
“Nina, what the fuck? These are linen!” He clambered to his feet, his cream-colored pants completely soaked in red wine.
“Can’t wait to see how youelevatethe show.” She raised an eyebrow before turning to walk away.
By the time she reached the elevators there was a ringing in her ears—a buzz so loud she felt queasy. She didn’t regret a word she’d said to Charlie, so why did she feel sick? And then she realized the true uneasiness she had wasn’t from Charlie.
She liked Leo...no,lovedLeo. She never imagined those words would cross her mind, but they were true—she had to talk to him.
And then she started to shiver, the kind of uncontrollable shaking that came with shock, because even though she was ready to commit to Leo, she would probably never have him. Especially not after blowing him off through her accidental text.
Her phone buzzed and she saw Leo’s name on the screen. Well, his nickname—DEVIL. He’d called back, he was calling her back. A little pulse of hope started in her chest as she hit the button to answer. Just hearing his voice would give her some sense of whether she could tell him her true feelings.
“Hey, Nina?” The voice on the line wasn’t Leo’s, though.
His name was on the screen. Who was this? “Where’s Leo?” she demanded.
“It’s Gavin. We’re in the ER. I just brought him to the hospital.”
And then time seemed to stop, but for all the wrong reasons, as she listened for more.
31
LEO
Leo took a sip from his juice box. He’d asked for something stronger, and the nurse had simply laughed at him. But what he wouldn’t give for one of Nina’s cappuccinos—or Nina, in general.
Not that he would ever have her, or her ridiculously strong coffee drinks again. After all, she’d left him for another man. But he would, apparently, be doomed to think of her for all eternity. Because every little thing reminded him of her.
Like his hospital sheets, for example, which were stale and thin, unlike Nina’s plush and cinnamon-scented sheets. Or the slow and steady beep of his heart monitor, which sounded uncannily like, well...it didn’t soundlikeNina, but he thought of her all the same. Would he just have to live the rest of his life knowing that she’d cross his mind roughly every few minutes?
Fucking hell.He’d brought this shitty situation on himself. He was always so desperate to fall in love that now he’d fallen hard for the only woman whom he knew would never love him back.
He rolled out one shoulder at a time, trying not to obsess again. Because the thought of truly losing Nina was what had sent him spiraling into a panic attack in the first place. He’d been consumed by thoughts of her right before he’d passed out. And when he woke up, Gavin was splashing water on his face. He knew what had happened. He’d been unable to catch his breath, had blurred vision, felt like his heart might explode, with a tightening in his throat and feeling cold and sweaty at the same time—all symptoms he’d experienced before. He’d never blacked out from a panic attack—so this one was much worse than the others—but still, the hospital’s ER wasn’t the answer. What he needed was to sit in a dark room, hydrate and eat something salty.
But Gavin insisted they make sure it wasn’t more serious. What he didn’t say, but Leo knew he was thinking, washeart attack. Their dad had died from one—he’d only been fifty-eight years old. Gavin had been in the kitchen with him when he fell onto the floor. And the symptoms of a heart attack were virtually indistinguishable from those of a panic attack.
Leo felt bad for worrying his brother, and worse for never telling Gavin about his panic attacks in the first place. But plenty of people dealt with anxiety on their own every day. How would burdening his family help anyone other than himself? But now that he’d been hospitalized, he knew he’d have to come clean. So not only had he opened up to Gavin about Nina, but now he’d also have to admit to having mental health issues. This was going to be a fun day for his brother.
The curtain opened, and the doctor who’d admitted Leo popped in. He was tall with an angular nose and glasses. “Good news—you didn’t have a heart attack.”
“I believe I told you that when I came in.” He sat up as best he could, trying to seem sturdier than he felt.
“Yes, I do love an opinionated patient.” He rocked on his heels. “Bad news is that panic attacks are more likely to happen again once you’ve had one.”
“I see.” Of course, he already knew that, since he’d researched panic attacks after the first had happened when he was twenty-one. It was finals week, and he’d curled up in a ball on the floor of the library to keep the room from spinning. So after the school physician diagnosed him with a panic attack, he hadn’t been surprised at the second episode, or third, or seventh, in this case.
“Any panic attacks you’ve had in the past?” He held out a pen, ready to take notes.
