Noah.
The pain.
The pregnancy.
A baby.
Jesus Christ. A baby.
Oh my God. I was going to pass out.
“Andrew, I can’t...” I gasped for air. “I can’t breathe.”
“Yes. Yes, you can. You just need to concentrate.”
“No.”
“Yes. It’s just a panic attack, Sienna. That’s all it is.” His grip tightened on my shoulders, and I could feel sweat beading at my temples while my body felt like it was burning from the inside out.
Was this what dying felt like? Your mind spinning out of control while your body just kept on tightening the barbed wire around your insides.
“Sienna.”
I shook my head, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “I need air. I can’t—”
He kissed me.
Andrew kissed me. His lips pressed firmly against mine. I was so shocked by what was happening that I didn’t have time to pull away.
I could feel the desperation in his kiss, the way he was willing panic and fear to go away. And it did.
My panic attack was instantly gone, replaced by the shock of having Andrew’s lips against mine. And at that moment, I forgot about everything.
The pain.
The trauma.
The baby.
Everything.
I was numb. Free of heartache, the uncertainty; free of everything that managed to tip me over the edge.
All the pain.
All the fear.
All the panic.
It was all gone. And it felt...good. But it was wrong. His lips pressed against mine were wrong. It was warm and soft, yet my spine turned to ice, the cold spreading down my body.
I managed to worm my arms in between us and pushed against his chest, severing the kiss, and slapped him across the face without fucking thinking. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He touched his cheek before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just...I needed you to snap out of it so you can breathe.”
“So you kissed me? What the hell were you thinking?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”