Page 12

KATERINA

I can’t breathe. I don’t know what triggered it or pulled me under, but the air is thick and pressing down on my lungs, and my fingers tremble as I dig them into the couch cushion.

“I love you, but you can’t be pushing yourself that hard,”

my mom says, her voice tinged with concern on the other side of the phone.

“It’s starting again, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”

My voice cracks, and I can hear the helplessness creeping in. I look at myself in the mirror, but I only see a reflection of Max standing behind me with a creepy smile. The tiredness in my eyes is only matched by the exhaustion in my body.

‘You are so weak, Katerina. Only made to please me.’

‘I’m the strong one. You are nothing.’

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts back. “Get out of my head, Max. Get the fuck out of my head.”

I slap my temple, the sting doing little to ward off the wave of anger and fear. Tears roll down my face, a mixture of frustration and sorrow.

“Get out. Get the fuck out of my head. Not again.”

I shout it, but the words are useless. I throw my phone towards the mirror, watching it crash against the glass, shattering it everywhere. I slowly back up against the wall, feeling its coldness seep into my bones.

“Please, just leave me alone,”

I whisper, my voice shaking as I curl into myself, pressing my knees to my chest. It’s not real. I know it’s not real. But my mind doesn’t care. Suddenly, I’m no longer in the hockey house. I’m back there. Back in that dark, empty hospital room. Back with him.

Max’s voice slithers into my ear like poison.

‘You don’t think you can do this without me?’ His grip tightens on my wrist. ‘Don’t act like you don’t want it, Kat.’

My body rigidifies, and my breathing becomes shallow. As the walls close in, my vision tunnels, and my thoughts turn against me.

You let it happen.

You froze.

You should have fought harder.

I gasp for air, but I can’t get enough, my chest tightening, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. Someone calls my name, but it’s muffled, distant—like I’m underwater. A hand touches my arm, and I flinch back violently, scrambling away.

“Kat! Hey. It’s me.”The voice is familiar.

Safe. Alina. I blink hard, trying to shake the phantom hands off me, focusing on now—not then. I’m in the living room. Not in that hospital room. Not with

Him. Alina is kneeling in front of me, her hands up in surrender, her brown eyes wide with worry. “Breathe with me, okay? In for four, out for four.”

I shake my head, gripping my arms.

“I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,”

she says, firmer now. “You’re safe, Kat. You’re safe.”

“Ali, it’s happening again. Why the fuck is it happening again?”

I whisper, the panic clawing at my throat. Alina doesn’t hesitate. She sits next to me and pulls me into her arms, holding me tightly as I sob.

“I know, baby girl. I’m sorry.”

She whispers, the warmth of her embrace grounding me, if only for a moment. Roman and Aiden stand at the door, unsure whether to come in, but Aiden’s gaze burns through the side of my face, a heat that doesn’t feel like pity but something more complicated.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on the rise and fall of her breathing, trying to drown out his voice, but the panic is still clawing at my ribs.

Alina glances at her phone, swearing under her breath.

“Shit. I have to be at work in ten minutes.”

I nod rapidly despite my hands still shaking and my thoughts still spiralling.

“I’m fine. Go.”

“You are not fine,”

she argues, hesitating as she scans my face full of concern.

“I’ll stay with her.”

Both of us freeze. Slowly, I look up. Aiden stands in the doorway, arms crossed, brow furrowed. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found. Alina hesitates, glancing between us.

“Are you sure?”

Aiden nods, his eyes not leaving mine.

“Go. I got her.”

Alina kisses the top of my head before rubbing my arm.

“I’ll drop you off,”

Roman tells her, and she nods in response, casting a glance towards me. Alina squeezes my knee gently before grabbing her bag and heading for the door, giving Aiden one last look that says, don’t screw this up.

I sit stiffly, staring at the floor, trying to pretend that my entire

body isn’t still trembling. Aiden doesn’t move at first and doesn’t say anything. He just watches me, his dark eyes unreadable.

“You wanna tell me what that was?”

he finally asks.

I shake my head quickly. “No.”

He exhales sharply but doesn’t argue. Instead, he moves towards the couch across from mine and—much to my surprise—sits on the floor beside it, his back resting against the cushions. We sit in silence for a minute. Two.

“I used to get them, too,”

Aiden says quietly. “Panic attacks.”

I glance at him, startled. He keeps his gaze fixed on the ceiling,

his jaw tight. “After my mom left, I couldn’t sleep for shit. I couldn’t breathe, sometimes. It got worse when a family member got sick.”

I swallow hard, my heartbeat still uneven.

“How did you make it stop?”

He lets out a humourless chuckle.

“I didn’t. Not really.”

He taps his fingers against his knee. “But I figured out how to shut up the voice in my head when it got too loud.”

I stare at him, my throat tightening. “How?”

Aiden shifts, finally looking at me. “Distraction.” I blink. “What kind of distraction?”

The smirk makes a slow return. “Annoying the hell out of you usually works.”

I groan. “Of course it does.”

His lips twitch up, but it doesn’t last long.

“Look, Kat, I’m not good at the whole… talking thing. But if you need something to keep your mind from going there again, I can be obnoxious enough to help with that.”

I huff out something between a laugh and a sigh.

“You’re already obnoxious.”

“Exactly.”

He smirks. “I’m doing you a favour just by existing.”

I roll my eyes, but the panic is finally loosening its grip, the phantom weight of Max’s hands fading. Aiden watches me closely, his smirk fading just a little.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,”

he says, voice quieter now. “But if you ever do… I’ll listen.”

Something in my chest tightens.

“Everyone knows what happened, Aiden. It was all over the news.”

I whisper, looking away, focusing on the steady rise and fall of my breathing. Aiden’s voice brings me back.

“I don’t know what happened,”

he says, his brow furrowed in confusion. My head snaps to his. I search his eyes for any sign of falsehood, but there’s only honesty.

“You really don’t?”

I ask, my voice almost incredulous. Aiden shakes his head, and I nod, feeling the weight of my unspoken truths settle in my chest. “Promise me you won’t look me up,”

I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll tell you what happened, but I want to be the one to tell you, not the articles and their lies.”

Aiden’s lips curl into a small smile, and he lifts his pinky, his eyes locking with mine.

“Pinky promise?”

He asks, a teasing glint in his gaze. I laugh softly, nodding as I wrap my pinky around his. It’s absurdly comforting—this small, innocent gesture. And for a moment, I don’t feel the world's weight on my shoulders.

“Thanks,”

I murmur. Aiden nods like it’s no big deal as if he didn’t just do something that no one else has been able to. For the first time in a long time, the voice in my head is silent.

“Hey,”

I say, breaking the silence. “Can you please grab my phone? I threw it while talking to my mom, and she’s probably really worried.”

Aiden stands up, walking over to the sink. He picks up my phone, its cracked screen still showing the thirty missed calls from my mom.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,”

Aiden says, his voice barely audible. I nod, answering my mom’s incoming call. As he walks out, my eyes follow his retreating figure, my heart thumping in my chest.