Page 76 of That Last Secret
“I”—pause—“can’t”—pause—“breathe.”
He rushes to sit next to me, worry etched in his face. He’s theonly onewho knows my secret, but there’s nothing worse than him actually witnessing it.
And I hate him knowing this part of me.
“You’re having a panic attack,” Logan says without question.
I nod my head repeatedly.
He scans my body up and down like he’s unsure what to do to help me. Then he places both hands on my shoulders, keeping his eyes level with mine and silently begging me to keep my gaze set on his.
“Breathe for me, Em,” he urges. “Slow and steady.”
I suck in one deep breath, but it catches in my throat, and Logan wipes a tear that falls down my cheek.
“Name three things you can touch,” he says.
“T-the couch.” I inhale and exhale. “The pillow.” Another inhale and exhale. “You.”
I force myself not to look away from him, watching intently as Logan swallows before speaking again.
“Name three things you can hear.”
“I hear…” I pause. “The dishwasher is going.” I can feel my breathing slowing. It’s still irregular but not as rapid as it was before. “The television is on in my bedroom.” Another quick breath. “You.”
“Now, name three things you can see,” he says.
“You,” I say without missing a beat. My heart is still racing, but my breathing is steadier now. A sob breaks free, and tears pour out of my eyes. “I see you. You’re all I see.”
With his hands still on my shoulders, Logan gives me three quick squeezes before he pulls my head into his chest for a hug. For the first time in a while, Logan just holds me.
Something about how he does it tells me he’s willing to carry my deepest secret with me. Which sounds so silly, but it’s always been mine.
It’s the one I’ve fought so hard to keep just to myself because I didn’t want to burden anyone else with it. But now… now it feels easier, lighter to carry when someone is there.
I wrap my arms around his waist and embrace this moment with him before it ends.
I know it’s going to because good things always seem to end.
He releases his hold on me and stands from the couch. “Fuck,” I hear him mutter under his breath as he walks away from me, running his hands through his hair as he paces back and forth in my living room.
The little energy that was left in my body is now gone, which is what usually happens after a panic attack. I always need to go right to bed because my body crashes hard.
Except Logan being here has me on edge.
“I told you to call me if this ever happened again,” he says, worried, still pacing around the room. “Have you still been dealing with this on your own? All this time?”
“You’re not my dad,” I bite back, standing up from the couch. I feel lightheaded at the sudden move after such an intense moment, but I ignore it. “I’ve been doing just fine handling it on my own. I was before you found out, and I am now.”
“That didn’t look like it, Emiline.”
I feel so small under the weight of his words. They hit me like a dagger in the chest. I shouldn’t care what he thinks. He’s made it very clear there’s nothing there between us.
“Why are you even here, Logan?”
“I was getting ready for work and thought I’d get a coffee before I head to the station,” he pauses as if collecting his thoughts. “I ran into Brooke, and she said you had your final exam tomorrow. She told me jokingly that you were at your apartment freaking out. Then I show up here and you’re in the middle of a panic attack, Emiline.”
“Well, I’m fine now,” I say, making my way to the door to show him the way out. “You checked on me. You just saw me at my weakest moment, the way no one ever has, so you can head to work now.”