Only You

Chapter 34

Alexey

Elora's body locks up underneath mine out of nowhere. I know something is wrong even before I see her ghostly white face and her blank expression. When I recognize that look and memories of her panic attack on our first date hit me, it's like a bucket of ice water is dumped over my heart.

I hurriedly climb off the girl just before she jolts into a sitting position. Before I can react, she's off the couch and clumsily running to the bathroom, clutching her stomach desperately. I curse under my breath and hurry after her, my heart racing a mile a minute.

The woman's head is already hanging over the toilet seat and I barely have enough time to gather her hair in my hands before she starts throwing up her last meal. "Shh, it's okay," I tell her, rubbing circles on her back as her body heaves.

Meanwhile, my stomach is in knots as I try to think of why this is happening. Did I hurt her? Should I have taken it slower after she talked about the man that sexually assaulted her for years? Oh god, in retrospect it feels obvious that I should've.

I keep talking to Elora in what I hope is a soothing voice until eventually, she's just dry-heaving and chocking over the toilet bowl. I gently ease her away from it, closing the lid and flushing while simultaneously reaching for the small towel on the sink. I make it wet before quickly crouching down at Elora's side where she's leaning against the cold tiles on the wall.

I reach for her in an attempt to make her look at me but at my touch, she only curls up further and turns away from me more. The sight of her hugging her knees to her chest accompanied by the sound of her first sob is like a spear through my heart.

"Baby. Come on, look at me," I prompt softly, still holding out the towel to clean her face. When she doesn't move any closer to me, I discard my plan and use a little force to turn her to me. Without further thought, I wrap my arms around her curled-up body and kiss the side of her head, desperate to make her feel better.

"What happened, Sweetheart?" I finally ask, even as she's still sobbing against my chest. Maybe I should back off but there's no way in hell I can get my body to distance itself from hers. Not when she feels so fucking fragile.

In response, she merely shakes her head. Next, I can feel one of her arms come up between our bodies to cover her mouth. Her sobs get more intense as she cries into the crook of her elbow and I don't stop her from pulling away this time, scared she can't breathe properly when I hold her.

Helplessly, I watch her fall apart.

After several minutes of her unsuccessfully trying to calm her breathing, she shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut more firmly. "I'm sorry," she hiccups, making my whole chest ache.

I reach out and cover her freezing hand with mine, unsure of how else to fucking help. She only shakes her head more forcefully and inches away with a pitiful moan. Her body is shivering. "I'm so sick of this. So sick of being fucking broken," she says, though I'm not sure she's speaking to me. This must be the first time I heard her curse.

I frown, feeling gutted. "Elora, talk to me. What happened? Another memory?" I ask tentatively, remembering that her last panic attack was triggered by a flashback. The woman nods.

"What happened?" I ask.

Instead of answering, she says, "I don't remember it being this bad." She sobs again, tears streaming relentlessly down her face. "Why is it getting worse?"

Her voice is a whisper. A weak, frail sound that barely meets my ears.

"I don't know, Honey." I don't know anything right now. I want to ask what the memory was about and what triggered it but I promised her I wouldn't push her anymore. I want to hold her and comfort her but she clearly doesn't want me close.