by Lacey London
Hearing my door creak open, I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend to be sound asleep.
‘Sadie?’ Aldo whispers, leaning over the bed to check if I am awake.
‘Is she asleep?’ Edward’s voice pipes up in the background as he pops his head into the bedroom.
Aldo takes a step closer and brushes my hair out of my face. ‘Yeah, she’s out for the count.’
‘Shouldn’t you wake her and tell her you’re leaving?’
There’s a long pause before Aldo exhales loudly. ‘No. Sleep will do her good. I’ll call her in the morning.’
The two of them whisper quietly, before slowly slipping away. Waiting until I hear the front door bang shut before daring to move again, I sit up straight and rub my sore head. I thought a day spent moping would get all of this negativity out of my system. I thought it would help me to see things more clearly and enable me to attack tomorrow with a fresh determination. Unfortunately, all I have done is given myself time to overthink things and worry over everything from Spencer to my lack of income. Every time I think about it I get this all-encompassing sense of queasiness, one which makes me want to put on my trainers and run as far away from reality as possible.
My phone pings and I search through the bedding to locate the handset. Blinking to help my eyes adjust to the bright light, I take in the words on the screen.
Hey!
We’re going to The Allotment for dinner.
Want to join us?
Ivy
xoxo
A wave of nausea runs through my veins and I slip my phone under the pillow. The thought of spending another evening listening to Piper and Zara tease me about Spencer going after Ivy is enough to push me over the edge. I can’t stop them from dating, but I can spare myself from the hell off having to hear about it.
Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I groan as my feet hit the cold floor and wander into the living room. A shocked gasp escapes my lips as I take in the bare area. When he said he was making a start on moving his things, I thought he meant the odd jumper and maybe a pair of hair straighteners, but he’s taken everything. Not that he isn’t entitled to, everything that’s missing belongs to him, but there isn’t a trace of Aldo left. It’s like he was never here. Gone are the photographs, the stash of shoes that permanently resided by the couch and the Yankee candles he insisted on burning almost every night.
My eyes flit to the kitchen island to check for his emergency pack of cigarettes and I’m dismayed to discover they’re gone too. Not being able to resist, I turn on my heels and rush over to his bedroom. Pushing open the door, my eyes widen as I realise that apart from his bed, it’s completely empty. His awards that adorned the walls have vanished, as has the overflowing wardrobe and the never-ending pile of hair products he borrows from work. He’s really left.
Sitting on the foot of his bed, I look around the room and notice how overwhelmingly tiny it seems now. You would think being empty would have the opposite effect, but the windows seem smaller, the ceiling looks lower and the walls appear to be closing in on me. I suddenly feel a little light-headed as my legs start to tremble. Attempting to keep them still, I push down on my knees with sweaty palms. My heart flutters in my chest as my ears start to ring. Trying to stand up, I collapse onto the bed as my chest becomes painfully tight.
What’s happening to me? My head starts to throb as I fight to calm my breathing. I’m having a heart attack. Clutching my chest, I erupt into a series of panic-fuelled sobs. Sweat beads on my forehead as I frantically search my pockets for my mobile. Discovering that it’s not there, I reach for the door handle to pull myself up and manage to stumble into my bedroom. My entire body quivers as I grab my phone and hover a finger over the keypad. The buzzing in my ears stops for a moment and I perch on my dressing table to compose myself.
Dropping my head between my legs, I close my eyes and clutch my racing heart with both hands until it eventually returns to its normal rhythm. When I finally dare to look up, I feel horrendously dizzy. The room is spinning and I feel weaker than I have ever felt before, but I am beyond relieved my heart has stopped pounding.
Not wanting to move in case it starts again, I stiffly put one foot in front of the other and curl up into a tight ball on the bed. I feel paralysed with fear as I try to calm myself down. Wrapping the covers tightly around my body, I sink into the mattress and allow myself to sob. My chest heaves as I gasp for air, letting the tears come harder and faster than they ever have before...
Chapter 12
Tapping my foot impatiently, I chew the inside of my cheek as I wait in line. I’ve never felt more anxious in my entire life. The moment I opened my eyes this morning, I called my doctor for an emergency appointment. Unfortunately, they were fully booked, which meant that I had two choices, go to the hospital or head to my local chemist for some advice. Given the options available to me, I decided to choose the latter. Only now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.
‘How can I help you?’ The pharmacist beams brightly and motions for me to step forward.
Being very aware of the long queue behind me, I lower my voice to a whisper. ‘I was wondering if you could give me some advice…’
‘Of course.’ Sensing this is a delicate issue, he whispers to one of the assistants and opens a door behind him. ‘Come with me.’
Nodding gratefully, I squeeze past the rows of pills and take a seat in the tiny room. Well, I call it a room, but it’s more of a cubicle. It feels cold and clinical, with descriptions of various sexually transmitted diseases on the walls. Feeling highly vulnerable, I pull my handbag onto my lap as the pharmacist sits on the chair opposite and waits for me to speak.
‘I… I think I had a heart attack last night.’ I mumble, realising that those words sound ridiculous coming out of a healthy young woman’s mouth.
‘Okay…’ He replies slowly, not seeming convinced in the slightest. ‘And why do you think that?’
Struggling to maintain my composure, I fidget with the sleeve of my jacket as I recall my ordeal. ‘My legs were shaking, I was sweating profusely, the room was spinning so quickly that I thought I would pass out. I had this awful ringing in my ears, almost like alarm bells going off inside my head.’ My eyes well up with tears and I blink repeatedly to stop them from spilling down my cheeks. ‘My chest became really tight, like someone was squeezing me from the inside. My head started to pound and I couldn’t breathe. I just couldn’t catch my breath, it was like I was drowning. It was awful. I really thought I was going to die.’
The pharmacist nods carefully and hands me a tissue from the box on the table. ‘Okay, the symptoms you are describing resemble those of a panic attack.’
‘A panic attack?’ I repeat hesitantly, conjuring up images of stressed mothers breathing into paper bags. ‘Are you sure?’
He nods confidently and leans on the plastic table. ‘Panic attacks are frequently mistaken for heart attacks. I know this might seem difficult to believe. There’s a slight chance the symptoms could be the result of an underlying problem, but given your age and other factors, panic attacks are the most likely issue here.’ Reaching behind him, he opens a filing cabinet and hands me a leaflet. ‘Everything you need to know about how panic affects the human body is explained in here.’
I take the pamphlet sceptically and run my eyes over the text.
Panic attacks are often connected with key life transitions.
Major stress, the death of a loved one, divorce, or a job loss can also trigger panic attacks.
‘Is there anything in your life that could have caused you to have a panic attack?’ The pharmacist clicks his pen repeatedly and glances up at the clock on the wall.
If I tell him that my fiancé dumped me and my roommate has decided to move in with his boyfriend, he will probably laugh in my face.
‘No…’ I mumble, quickly folding the leaflet and shoving it into my pocket.
‘In that case I would strongly recommend you pay a visit to your GP to
investigate the root cause of the attacks. In the meantime, I can offer you some herbal medication. The success rate is wildly variable, but they might help to take the edge off.’ He nods to confirm this is the end of our conversation and pushes out his chair. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’
I manage a shake of the head and follow him back out onto the shop floor. A lady at the front of the queue pulls her scarf over her nose as I pass by, clearly not wanting to catch whatever terrible disease she thinks I have. The pharmacist motions to one of his assistants and she leads me over to a stand of brightly-coloured boxes. Grabbing a varied selection, she talks me through the benefits of each one as she scans them through the till. Too flustered to listen, I exchange the glossy bag for a handful of notes and push my way outside.
Racing back to the safety of my car, I tip out the contents of the bag and take in the products in front of me. A lavender spray, a box of valerian sleeping aids and a tin of emergency pastilles. Not knowing which one to use first, I tear open the packaging on the spray and squirt at the back of my tongue as instructed. Expecting to feel instant relief, I stare at the label in disappointment. I don’t feel calm, relaxed or reassured, I feel exactly the same as I did an hour ago, dreadful.
I am about to slip my key into the ignition and drive away when I hear a knocking at the window. Looking up to see Patrick beaming back at me, I frantically clear away the herbal remedies as he opens the door and jumps into the passenger seat.
‘Sadie!’ He gushes, offering his cheek for a kiss. ‘How have you been? I’ve tried to call you a couple of times, but it went straight to voicemail.’
‘Oh…’ My faces colours up as I remember turning my phone off yesterday. ‘My mobile’s been playing up lately.’
‘Ah…’ Nodding along, he rubs his hands together for warmth. ‘How did you get on with the list I gave you? Any luck?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ I mumble, smoothing down my messy hair. ‘But something will come up, I’m sure.’
Patrick smiles and I notice his eyes land on my bag of medication. ‘They’re for a friend.’ I stammer, quickly kicking them under my seat. ‘She’s been through a tough time…’
I hate lying to people, but at least it’s half true.
‘You look a little tired, Sadie.’ Patrick furrows his brow and looks at me the same way that Aldo did yesterday. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Everything’s fine!’ I try to look confident, but I can’t even convince myself, let alone anyone else. ‘I just didn’t sleep too well last night. Anyway, how are you? How’s Precious?’
‘I’m good, Precious is good, we’re all good.’ Patrick laughs tensely and scratches his beard. ‘I’m heading to Precious right now if you want to join me for some lunch? I’ll have Mario make the lobster bisque you love! What do you say?’
Mario’s lobster bisque has always been my favourite, Patrick knows that, but since the so-called panic attack I haven’t been able to eat a thing.
‘Sadie?’ Patrick presses, tapping me on the arm to regain my attention.
‘Thanks for the offer, I really appreciate it…’
‘I can sense a but coming…’ He interrupts playfully, reaching out for the door handle. ‘It’s fine, maybe another time.’ Stepping out of the car, he leans over and kisses my cheek. ‘If you change your mind, you know where to find me.’
Giving him a wave, I wait until he disappears down the street before pulling out of the car park. When did I become a liar? Why didn’t I take him up on his kind offer? Why couldn’t I just admit I’m the one who has been feeling pretty low recently? Guilt hits me like a blow to the stomach as I cruise along the road. I guess the real question is, why do I feel like this at all?
Chapter 13
‘So, you are alive…’ Pushing her way into the apartment, Piper screws up her nose as she takes in my bedraggled appearance. ‘Well, just about. Why are you dressed like that? You’re not still moping over the whole Spencer/Ivy situation, are you? Because I’ve got to tell you, it’s getting boring.’
‘It’s not that…’ I stammer, really wishing that she hadn’t come over here uninvited. ‘I had a…’
‘You’ve been acting so weird!’ Piper cuts me off mid-sentence and pulls a bottle of wine from the rack. ‘Running out on us like that the other night. Dressing like a homeless person. You’re so touchy lately.’
Opening a few cupboards, she finally locates the wine glasses on the top shelf. Watching her pour the red liquid, I pull out a stool at the kitchen island and tug the sleeves of my jumper over my hands. As usual, Piper is immaculately made-up, which just makes me feel even more ashamed about the state of my appearance.
‘Get that down you.’ She instructs, tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder. ‘We need to have a chat.’
Dragging the glass towards me, I rub my temples as Piper hops onto a stool.
‘What’s going on with you?’ Her little legs swing back and forth as she raps her nails on the counter. ‘If it’s not Spencer, then what is it?’
I stare into the glass, already hating this conversation. ‘I just feel a little, I don’t know, down lately…’
‘Down?’ Piper scowls, not waiting for me to explain. ‘I thought you said this wasn’t about Spencer?’
‘It’s not about him...’
‘Then what is it about?’ She narrows her eyes as I try to find the words for how I am feeling. ‘Well?’
Struggling to get my mouth to engage with my brain, I shake my head and groan. ‘I don’t know…’
Exhaling loudly, Piper throws back her wine and shakes her head at me incredulously. ‘You need to pull yourself together, Sadie. What the hell have you got to feel down about? You have been through a damn breakup. Big deal, who hasn’t?’
I want to agree with her, but it doesn’t feel as simple as that. I want to tell her about the panic attack and how horrendous it was. I want to tell her I’m petrified it will happen again, but I know without trying that she just won’t understand. No one will.
‘Sadie, are you even listening to me?’ Piper bangs her hand down on the table and I jolt to attention. ‘You’re freaking me out with your silent act. Can you say something, please?’
I hold my head in my hands and feel the now familiar tightening in my chest. Not again, not now.
‘Are you taking drugs?’ She hisses, her eyebrows higher than they have ever been.
‘No, of course not.’ I reply, appalled at the thought of her thinking I’m using.
‘So, you’re just sad and you have absolutely no idea why?’ She cackles mockingly and purses her lips. ‘Have you gone insane? Is that what this is?’
Silently cursing her into oblivion, I resist the urge to scream out loud. I didn’t ask her to come here. Why can’t she just leave me alone? Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? Piper continues talking, but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and cover my ears. When she finally stops for breath, I look up and slide off my seat.
‘I’d like you to leave…’ Walking over to the door, I wipe my face and blink back tears. ‘I want to be alone for a while.’
‘Excuse me?’ Piper’s jaw drops open as she waits for me to correct myself. ‘I take time out of my day to come over here and check that you are alright and you’re telling me to leave?’
‘I’m sorry….’ My voice starts to crack and I pray for the ground to swallow me up.
‘You need to sort yourself out.’ Clacking over the tiles, Piper curls her lips into a snarl. ‘I mean, what do you even want out of life? Because if it’s another man, you’re not going to get one looking like that…’
Turning on her heels, she totters down the lobby and disappears into the lift. Seemingly frozen to the spot, I look down at my tattoo and ask myself the same question. What do I want out of life? I thought I wanted a husband, children and a family to call my own, but that idea suddenly seems so outlandish to me. What’s the point? If I let myself get attached to people, I will only live in fear that one day t
hey’ll leave me, just like everyone else does.
Closing the door, I slump to the floor and glance up at the clock on the wall. Earlier today, I called the surgery and made an appointment for tomorrow morning. It’s 2017, if we can perform heart transplants, there must be an instant remedy to stop me from feeling like this. I just need to get through the next twenty-four hours and everything will be fine.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I feel a wave of shame. Piper was right, I look a mess. I can’t believe I left the house like this. My hair is in desperate need of a wash and my skin is dryer than I have ever seen it. Looking in the direction of the bathroom, I try to summon the energy to put one foot in front of the other and walk the short distance across the lounge. What is wrong with me? Why does washing my hair suddenly feel like climbing Everest?
Forcing myself to my feet, I try to block Piper’s words out of my mind. How can I make someone else understand why I feel so low when I don’t even know myself? Pushing open the bathroom door, I turn on the taps and grab a random bath bomb from the cabinet. The water glistens beneath the bright lights of the bathroom as I step out of my clothes and wait for the tub to fill. Climbing inside, I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. The hot water stings my skin as it surrounds my body, but it doesn’t hurt, not really. The pain is almost comforting. In an inexplicable way, it makes the ache inside me seem less noticeable.
Lowering myself into the water, I tip back my head and feel my muscles slowly relax. My long hair floats around me, wrapping my body in a protective bubble as I allow my eyes to close. Staying perfectly still, I can almost feel the beat of my heart as water fills my ears and drowns out any noise from the outside world. Suddenly I feel safe, I feel comforted by the weight of the water above me. Taking a deep breath, I pull my head beneath the surface of the water and hold on to the sides of the bath. My heart begins to pound harder and faster in my chest as my body begs me to sit up. Fighting against it until my legs start to shake, I eventually push myself up and gasp for air.