Friday I'm in Love (15 page)

Natalie licked her dry lips, tried to focus, but the spots forming behind her eyes alerted her to the coming panic attack. She hadn’t had one in years. Never let herself get this upset, this distressed. She started rocking.

“Nat,” Sean said quietly. “You okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

She tried to get a breath but it felt like the air wasn’t getting to her lungs.

“Jesus, Natalie.” Sean’s tone told her exactly how crazy she looked. “Put your head between your knees. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

She let him push her head down as she continued to struggle to breathe. For several long minutes, she tried to close down everything—the worried whispers of Ewan’s family, the sounds from the people walking by, the horns blaring in the midday traffic.

She put it all away, as she’d learned to do in the past, and simply listened to her breathing.

In and out. She focused on the rush of it as it came into her lungs then left her body again.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she was pulled out of her trance by Sean’s hand on her back. “Natalie? Do you think you can get in the cab? We want to get you home and in bed. You don’t look so good.”

Natalie slowly sat up, exhaustion setting in. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

“Pop’s flagged down a taxi. He’s waiting at the curb. Think you can walk? If not, I can carry you.”

A weak smile crossed her lips at his gallant offer. He was so much like Ewan…

The thought of Ewan sent a fresh round of panic through her body. “Ewan’s okay?”

Sean smiled, though his face betrayed his worry. “I have a feeling he’s beat us home. He’ll be there when we get back.”

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She took his proffered hand and stood, leaning heavily on him as she walked to the cab.

During the ride home, no one spoke, no one asked her any questions and she was glad for their consideration. She’d fallen apart in front of them. She knew she’d be mortified later, but right now all she could think about was Ewan.

He’d been in a car accident. He could have been killed. She would have lost him.

Lost him like she’d lost Yvonne.

She didn’t know what to do with the pain suffusing her, where to put it. She’d held people at bay for years, managed her illness by keeping them out.

“We’re here, Nat.” She glanced up, surprised to see everyone had stepped out of the taxi. She followed them into the pub, her eyes scanning the crowd for Ewan.

Tris waved to them as they entered and she could see he was puzzled by the somberness of their small group of four. “Didn’t Keira tell you he’s okay? He’s upstairs, pissed as hell about the dent in his car.”

Teagan nodded. “We know he’s okay. Natalie’s not feeling well. Must’ve been something we ate for lunch.”

Natalie was grateful for Teagan’s lie and Sean’s arm as they continued through the bar to the stairs to the apartment above. As they reached the top, Natalie saw Keira and Will sitting on the couch in the living room, Catie on the floor, glued to
Sesame Street
on the television.

Ewan was on his cell, pacing around the dining room table and arguing with someone about insurance.

Natalie stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at him, studied his face, worried about the bruises, the bandage at his brow, the way he was limping slightly. As the rest of the family moved into the room, he saw her and his words stopped.

“I’ll call you back later,” he said, hanging up abruptly.

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The room was eerily quiet given the number of people gathered there. “Hey, Nat.”

His voice was the same…friendly, open, though she could hear the underlying thread of tiredness there. “Sorry about our plans.”

She tried desperately to find her voice and failed. He was here. He was okay.

He could have died.

“I…” She cleared her throat. “I have a headache. I need to go lie down.”

For the first time, Ewan seemed to
see
her. He noticed Sean standing by her arm, ready to catch her, and he spotted the worried looks on Pat’s and Teagan’s faces.

She tried to pull her gaze away from his face, tried to ignore the implosion racking through her body. “Thank you, Sean.” Her voice sounded rusty, rough. “I can make it to my room just fine.”

She turned, praying her legs would carry her the ten steps to the foot of the stairs leading to the third floor, begging her body to lift her up the fourteen steps to the landing. Every eye was on her, she knew.

She couldn’t let them see. Couldn’t let them know.

Ewan was by her side before she took the first step. “Nat?”

She could hear the question in his voice, the concern. “Just a little headache. I’ll take some aspirin and sleep. I’ll be fine.” She looked at him then, because she simply couldn’t resist checking one more time, making sure for herself. “I’m glad you’re okay, Ewan.”

His puzzled face crushed the tiny part of her heart that refused to stop beating, refused to stop living. She forced a smile to her lips but she knew it didn’t fool him.

Determination ran strong in him and she knew he wouldn’t let her go without an explanation. Unfortunately she didn’t have one to give him.

“Please,” she pleaded quietly.

“I’ll help you up the stairs,” he said, but she shook her head.

“Your leg—”

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“Is fine. Come on. Just up the stairs.” His tone told her she would get her reprieve.

He wouldn’t make her talk, not now, but that was the only point he was conceding. He took her arm and she closed her eyes at his gentle strength. She’d been leaning on it too much this week.

No more.

They climbed the stairs under the watchful eyes of his family. At the doorway to her room, she stopped. “Thank you.” Her face, her words let him know he was dismissed, and he narrowed his eyes angrily. She thought he might insist on seeing her in. She knew the caretaker in him wanted to put her in bed, tuck her in, hold her in his arms until he was sure she was okay.

She refused to budge. Refused to let him in. If she let him in now, she’d never be able to let him go—and she
had
to let him go.

“You should get some rest too,” she added. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She turned and walked in, relieved when he didn’t follow her. She refused to turn to look at him as she quietly closed the door and locked it.

Ewan came down the stairs as Keira and Will were taking their leave. “Glad you’re okay, baby brother,” Keira said as she planted a kiss on his brow. “I’m gonna see Will and Catie off and then I’ll take care of the dinner shift. You get some rest.”

“Will do. Thanks for everything today, Kiki.” His sister had just been arriving at the restaurant when the car accident occurred. Her steady presence had gone a long way toward calming Riley, who was threatening to beat the shit out of the poor kid driving the other car. She’d gone to the hospital with him, filled out the mountains of paperwork and made him laugh while the doctor put in the stitches. In short, she was an awesome big sister.

He kissed Catie goodbye, shook hands with Will and watched them descend the stairs. Once they were gone, he turned to face Teagan, Sean and Pop. “Anybody wanna tell me what the fuck happened to Nat?”

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“Sit down, Ewan.” He could tell by Pop’s calm voice—and the fact his father didn’t scold him for his language—he wasn’t going to like what they had to say.

He sat on the couch next to Teagan and braced himself. He’d never seen Nat look so… Damn, he couldn’t think of a word for what had been on her face just now. A million things were displayed there and none of them had looked good—terror, depression, anger, sadness, sickness. Despite all the warring emotions, rather than cry, scream or lash out, she’d stood there like a statue. Like she had to think about every breath she took, every word she said, every step she made. It was the single most frightening thing he’d ever witnessed.

“So?” he prompted.

“She sort of…” Teagan paused.

“Fell apart.” Sean propped himself on the coffee table in front of him while Pop claimed the recliner.

“Fell apart?” he asked.

“Keira called and I guess Natalie heard that you’d been in a car accident, that you were in the hospital—” Teagan stopped when Ewan interrupted her.

“Yvonne,” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Who’s Yvonne?” Sean asked.

“Natalie’s sister was killed in a car crash about ten years ago. They were best friends.” Ewan didn’t add that Natalie blamed herself for the accident.

Sean leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “No wonder she flipped out.”

“It was more than that, Sean.” Pop sat forward in his chair and Ewan could see his father was worried. “It was more than her just being worried or upset. If I’m not mistaken, she suffered a full-blown panic attack. Her color, her breathing, her trembling. It was too pronounced, too much. I was concerned we’d be following you to 119

Mari Carr

the hospital, Ewan. But then she pulled it together. It was like she knew exactly what to do to steady herself.”

Teagan sat back and sighed, and Ewan looked at her. “You know something.

You’ve alluded to it before.”

His sister glanced uneasily at Pop and his father rose from the chair.

“Come on, Sean. Let’s go downstairs and see if Keira and Tris need help.”

“But I’m off tonight,” Sean protested.

Pop chuckled and slapped Sean lightly on the shoulder. “Ah son, there are times when you just need an excuse to make a graceful exit. This is one of them.”

Sean looked from Teagan to Ewan, and then sighed. “If you wanted me to go away, you just had to say so.”

Ewan looked at him and smiled. “Go away.”

“Sorry about your car, bro. I’m glad you’re okay,” Sean said as he stood.

“Thanks, Sean.”

Ewan watched his pop and Sean disappear down the staircase to the pub below and then he turned to face his sister. Her brow was furrowed and he could tell she was fighting her conscience. His heart sank as he wondered what the secret she’d been keeping from him could be.

“Teagan, please.”

“What I know, Ewan, it was told to me in confidence. I don’t think I should—”

“What is it, Teagan?” He felt his temper rising. Natalie was lying upstairs alone after locking him out again. All the progress he’d made this week lay shattered around his feet.

Teagan closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking him straight in the eye. “She had a nervous breakdown after her sister’s death. She spent nearly six months in a mental hospital. Since then, she’s suffered slight setbacks, never anything as serious as the first one. She battles depression. She battles it hard, according 120

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to Sky. It’s like she won’t let herself admit any worry, any sadness. To avoid it, she’s sort of closed herself off from people.”

Every word Teagan said was drawing a clearer picture in his mind of the woman Natalie had become after her sister’s death—and he suddenly realized exactly what he was up against.

The wall he thought he’d scaled to reach her had just turned into a mountain. And he was stranded in the valley.

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Natalie escaped the apartment a little after dawn. She’d tossed and turned all night in her attempts to block out the day’s events. When she’d finally drifted off, her dreams had turned on her as visions of Yvonne and Ewan, both battered and bloody, lay amongst the crushed metal of a car. She’d awoken sweaty and trembling, too terrified to close her eyes again.

She walked aimlessly around Baltimore for hours, her thoughts such a jumble of images and emotions, her tired mind eventually just shut down. She meandered around the streets like a zombie, avoiding the restaurant…and Ewan.

As the morning became afternoon, she shook herself from her melancholy and dug deep, trying to find the strength to do what she knew came next. She’d been a fool to tempt fate, to succumb to Ewan’s charming advances. Love wasn’t for her. She wasn’t a good bet. She was nothing but a walking, talking, emotional wreck…and Ewan deserved a hell of a lot better than her. Christ. He was optimistic, cheerful, happy. All those traits and emotions she fucking sucked at.

Besides, she’d been to hell because of caring for someone and she wasn’t about to go back there. She didn’t care if she was alone, restless, in a funk. All of that was preferable to the pain she’d felt yesterday and last night as she imagined Ewan dying.

As she turned back toward Pat’s Pub, she knew two things beyond the shadow of a doubt. She was strong enough to walk away. She
wasn’t
strong enough to stay.

The sun was beginning its descent when she walked into Sunday’s Side. The dinner rush was just starting and as soon as the scent of Riley’s cooking hit her nose, her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime the day before.

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Ewan spotted her before she’d made it two steps in the door. “Where the hell have you been?”

His annoyed tone piqued her anger. “Out walking.”

“All day?”

She put her hands on her hips, grateful for his attitude. She knew how to fight. She thrived on arguments, found herself in anger. She preferred it to heart-to-heart talks and fucking pity. “I didn’t realize I was on a schedule here. I sort of thought this was
my
vacation and I could do whatever the hell I pleased.”

Ewan didn’t back down and she thought she’d managed to spark a little bit of Mr.

Easy-going Ewan’s temper. It felt good. “You weren’t feeling well last night. I don’t think it’s that difficult to believe I’d be worried when you went missing this morning.

Jesus, Nat. I called every fucking hospital.”

She tried not to let his concern, his sweet gesture get to her. He’d called every hospital? For her? She pushed the thought out and scrambled to regain her momentum.

“I’m not your responsibility.”

Her words hit him harder than if she’d slapped him. She could see it, and she turned her head, refusing to look at the hurt in his eyes.