Page 71 of Nine-Tenths

I can't breathe.

I swallow around the bile and brutal honesty, bite my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, and Dav isn't here to kiss it away, to soothe, to squeeze all of the dumbass out of me, and he's gone, he's gone, he's not coming back, they always go away and never come back, and I can't, Ican't—

"Colin!" Dr. Chen shouts right into my ear, and I jerk on the spot.

My lungs burn, my mouth is dry, my eyes are gritty when I blink.

I swallow hard.

"Doc," I crackle.

Hadi touches my hand, and I jump. I'm on the floor, curled around my knees, fingernails puncturing half-moons into my shins above my socks. She gently uncurls my fingers from around my own leg, presses my phone into my hand, raises it to my head.

"Hey, Colin," Dr. Chen says from the other end of the line. "You back with me?"

Hadi puts a glass of water into my other hand. I take small sips, and when I’m ready, say: "Yeah, Doc."

"Good. You wanna start talking about it?"

"Not really."

"It will be now or later, Colin."

"Later," I decide.

"I’ll call you in the morning," Dr. Chen says. "Let's focus on getting grounded and balanced again, okay?" She takes me through the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, and we talk about triggers and the first time I disassociated, the day after Dad's funeral, how it had lasted for long enough for Gem to start researching professional help.

"Our first date, Doc," I joke weakly, wrung-out. She chuckles.

When I hang up, Hadi sits on the cool tile beside me, presses her back to the fridge door, and shows me an email on her phone. "Guess what's showing up tomorrow?"

It's the big, fancy, industrial-grade bean roaster Dav paid for.

The one he replaced.

The one that will replace him.

I bite the inside of my cheek, and try not to puke.

I’m not gonna succeed.

"I need… sorry," I say, and run to the washroom.

On my way back, I find Dikimbe pressed up against the big window, peering inside. Mauli is kneeling by the door, tongue half-stuck out of their mouth as they try to pick the lock with what looks like a manky old chopstick.

I stalk over to let them in. Mauli lunges at me, dark eyes shining with pity, crushing my ribs in a hug that lifts my feet off the ground.

"Bro," Dike says, phone in hand, flashing that wretched picture. My guts cramp again, but I take a deep breath to keep the panic and tears back.

Or at least, as deep a breath as I can with Mauli still squeezing me.

"Where is that asshole?" Mauli growls. "Dragon or not, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"No, you’re not," Hadi says, entering from the kitchen with a tray filled with mugs, milk, and a pot of tea. Ugh. Hot leaf juice.

Mauli walks me over to the sofas and dumps me on my ass, then brandishes their chopstick, ready to stab. "You sure? What happened?"

They both look to me. I shake my head, and let Hadi tell it. Well, as much as she knows, anyway. There are some things Dav asked me to keep secret, and I may be wrecked, but I'm not a disloyal asshole.