I smile, nod, and wave as everyone offers their thanks and praise as they get ready to go. I’m thrilled the response is so overwhelmingly supportive and positive. But once they’re all gone and I turn the lock on the studio door, I sag against it.
It’s late, later than I normally finish teaching, and I’m exhausted. Physically and mentally.
I go onto autopilot with my closing up tasks, my brain foggy with fatigue. My sole focus is getting this done and falling into bed.
At first, when the sound of smashing glass startles me from my almost-asleep state, I think it must be a dream. Then the alarm goes off and I bolt upright in bed.
Fumbling for my phone, I manage to dial 911 as I race to the door to my apartment and double check the locks on it.
My heart is racing.
I feel like I can’t take in a full breath.
When the operator comes on the line, I barely manage to blurt out that I think someone has broken into my studio before the tears start falling and I start sobbing deep, ragged breaths.
I want Leo. I need him to make me feel safe. But the operator won’t let me off the phone until I can hear the police sirens.
The sound of boots pounding up the stairs to my apartment sends a fresh wave of panic through my body until I hear the voice that accompanies the banging on my door.
“Serena! Tippy! Let me in, baby, it’s me.”
I fly over to the door, dropping my phone onto the floor. As soon as it’s open just a crack, Leo flings it open and grabs me.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here, baby, you’re safe.” I can barely hear his murmured words of comfort over my own deep sobs.
But the tight band of his arms around my body is slowly easing the panic in my chest. The buzzing noise in my head, adrenaline induced panic I guess, starts to subside and I become aware of other things. The sound of voices downstairs, the flash of lights outside, the crackle of Leo’s radio, and the damp feeling on my neck where his face is pressed into my skin.
That proves to be enough to settle my fears so I can draw back slightly to look at him. His eyes are red rimmed, and the mixture of terror and relief on his face mirrors my own.
“Leo.”
That’s all I manage before I crumple again. Leo sweeps me up into his arms and carries me to the couch before sitting down with me in his lap. His belt is poking into me, but I don’t care.
He’s here. I’m safe.
The inevitable crash that follows an adrenaline spike like I just had hits me hard. I want to burrow into Leo’s chest and ignore whatever just happened. But that’s wishful thinking.
“Tippy, we need to go downstairs.”
“What happened?” I croak out.
“A brick was thrown through the front window.”
That sends me jolting into standing. “What? Oh my God. Why?!”
Leo comes up beside me and takes my hand in his. “Not sure. As soon as we pulled up and I saw it, I ran to find you. I’m so fucking glad you’re okay and you weren’t down there.” He pulls me back into his arms, and I realize he’s still shaking.
“Leo, I’m fine. I was asleep.”
“I know. I just…just… Give me a minute, okay? This is hitting a little close to home, that’s all.” His voice cracks, and it dawns on me this must be stirring up some horrible memories for Leo, given what happened to his dad.
And just like that, my terror spikes again at all of the what-ifs.
What if I had been downstairs doing one of my late-night dances that I do when I can’t sleep or need to think things through? What if my apartment door had been unlocked? What if the sound hadn’t woken me up or the alarm hadn’t gone off or whoever it was had tried to come upstairs?
Suddenly, I don’t feel so fine anymore.
We stay locked together for several moments, both of us needing the security of holding on to each other.