Chapter 181

A small pause passed between them, the kind that didn’t feel awkward, just honest.

“…Stay though,” Emma added softly.

Abigail didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That was all Emma needed. Her body relaxed more into the couch, her shoulders dropping, the tension she had been holding finally starting to release now that she was home, safe, and not being watched by machines or doctors. Her head tilted slightly toward Abigail without even thinking about it, her breathing beginning to even out, slower now, deeper.

Her hand shifted, moving just a little closer.

Abigail noticed immediately. She always did.

Without making it obvious, she moved her own hand just enough so their fingers brushed, then gently intertwined. No pressure. No urgency. Just contact.

Emma didn’t say anything. She just let it happen.

Within minutes, her breathing deepened further, her body sinking more fully into the couch as sleep took over, quiet and unannounced. One second she was there, barely holding onto the conversation—and the next, she was gone, completely out.

Abigail stayed still for a moment longer, watching her. Making sure. Always making sure.

Her thumb moved slowly across the back of Emma’s hand, grounding herself in the fact that she was here, breathing, safe. But the second she was sure Emma was fully asleep—really asleep—something in Abigail finally loosened. Not visibly. Not all at once. But enough.

Carefully, she eased her hand away, adjusting the blanket one more time, tucking it slightly closer around Emma’s side. She hesitated for a second, then leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I got you,” she whispered.

Emma didn’t stir.

Abigail stood up slowly, glancing back one more time before walking away. The house stayed quiet behind her.

The bathroom door closed softly.

The second it did, everything hit.

Abigail turned the shower on without thinking, the sound of water filling the space as steam slowly started to rise. She leaned forward, hands braced against the counter for a second, her head dropping as she tried to steady her breathing.

But it wasn’t steady.

Not anymore.

The images came back too fast.

Emma going limp in her arms.

Her name—over and over.

The way her heart dropped.

The way she thought she might lose her.

Abigail shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head once like she could push it out.

But she couldn’t.

The water kept running, louder now, filling the silence.

She stepped into the shower without waiting for it to fully heat, the water hitting her skin hard, grounding but not enough to quiet everything inside her. Her hands moved up into her hair, gripping slightly as she let the water run over her face.

Her breathing finally broke.

A sharp inhale.

Then another.

She turned slightly, letting the water hit her back as her shoulders tensed, everything she had been holding in finally starting to crack. She had been calm all day. Focused. Controlled.

But this was where it showed.

Her hands dropped slowly, bracing against the wall now as she stood there, letting the water run while her chest rose and fell unevenly.

“You can’t do that again,” she whispered under her breath, her voice tight.

Not to Emma.

To herself.

To the moment.

To everything.

Because she felt it. How close it felt. How real it felt.

And that scared her more than anything.

The water kept running, steam thickening the room as Abigail stood beneath it, one hand braced against the wall, the other dragging slowly down her face. Her breathing had steadied some, but not enough. The panic had passed, yet the weight of everything still sat heavy in her chest.

She could still feel Emma going limp in her arms.

Could still hear herself calling her name.

Could still see that hallway floor.

Abigail squeezed her eyes shut, letting the water run over her head again, but it didn’t wash any of it away.

She needed a second.

No—

She needed people.

People who knew her well enough to understand when she said very little.

People who would come without asking too many questions.

She stepped out from under the stream long enough to reach for the towel hanging nearby, drying one hand before grabbing her phone off the counter. Water still rolled down her shoulders as she unlocked it and opened the group chat with Megan and Ashley.

Her fingers moved fast.

Abigail: Can someone please come over. I need someone.

She stared at the screen for barely two seconds before the typing bubble appeared.

Then—

Megan: We are on the way.

That fast.

No questions.

No hesitation.

Something in Abigail’s chest loosened just a little.

She typed again.

Abigail: The door is open but be quiet. Emma is sleeping. I am in the master bathroom.

Ashley responded this time.

Ashley: Say less.

Then another message right after.

Ashley: And if you crying I’m acting like I didn’t see it.

Despite everything, a short breath escaped Abigail that almost sounded like a laugh.

Almost.

She set the phone back on the counter and looked at herself in the mirror. Wet hair pushed back, eyes tired, shoulders still tense. She barely recognized how drained she looked.

The adrenaline had worn off.

Now all that was left was the crash.

She wrapped a towel around herself and sat down on the closed toilet lid, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped loosely together as she stared at the floor.

The house was silent outside the bathroom door.

Emma was sleeping just down the hall.

Safe.

Breathing.

Home.

That should have been enough to calm her, but it wasn’t. Every time she got close to steadying herself, the memory came back again. Emma’s body going slack. Her face pale. The helpless feeling of waiting for her to open her eyes.

Abigail rubbed both hands over her face.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she meant Emma or herself.

A few minutes later, she heard the front door open quietly, then soft footsteps moving through the house.

Low voices.

Careful movement.

Then a knock at the bathroom door.

“Abi?” Megan’s voice came through first, gentle and low. “It’s us.”

Abigail looked toward the door, swallowing once before answering.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly.

Megan stepped in first, her expression immediately softening the second she saw Abigail sitting there wrapped in a towel, shoulders tense, hair still wet, eyes carrying the kind of exhaustion that had nothing to do with sleep.

Ashley came in right behind her, quieter than usual for once, taking one look around before closing the door gently behind them.

For a second, neither of them said anything.

They didn’t need to.

Megan crossed the room first.

Without asking, without making it a big moment, she crouched in front of Abigail and placed her hands lightly on her knees.

“Hey,” she said softly.

That one word nearly broke Abigail all over again.

Ashley leaned back against the counter, arms folded, watching her carefully. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath. “You really going through it.”

Abigail let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a laugh, then looked down at the floor.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically.

Both of them stared at her.

Ashley snorted. “Girl, be serious.”

Megan’s thumbs brushed lightly across Abigail’s knees. “You don’t have to do that with us.”

The room went quiet again.

Abigail swallowed hard, blinking once before looking away.

“She passed out in my arms,” she said finally, voice low and rough. “Twice.”

The words hung there heavier once spoken out loud.

Megan’s expression changed immediately, more concern settling in. “Abi…”

“I thought…” Abigail started, then stopped, jaw tightening. “I thought something was really wrong. I thought I was about to lose her.”

Ashley’s arms slowly unfolded.

She pushed off the counter and stepped closer now, the joking edge gone completely.

“But you didn’t,” Ashley said, quieter than normal. “She’s okay.”

“I know that,” Abigail replied quickly. “I know that now.”

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

“That doesn’t change what it felt like.”

That hit the room hard.

Megan stood up then and pulled Abigail gently to her feet. For half a second Abigail resisted on instinct.

Then she gave in.

Megan wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight and steady, one hand resting at the back of her head.

And that was it.

The final crack.

Abigail’s face pressed into her shoulder as everything she had been holding back finally started to come out in silent waves. No dramatic sobbing, no collapse—just the kind of crying that comes when someone has been strong too long.

Ashley looked away respectfully for a second, then muttered, “Yeah… I’m definitely beating somebody up if this ever happen again.”

That pulled a wet laugh out of Abigail.

Megan smiled faintly, still holding her. “There she is.”

After a moment, Abigail stepped back, wiping at her face quickly. “I hate y’all.”

“No you don’t,” Ashley said immediately.

“Not even a little,” Megan added.

Abigail shook her head, calmer now, though still raw around the edges.

Ashley glanced toward the door. “She still asleep?”

Abigail nodded. “On the couch.”

Ashley frowned. “Why she on the couch?”

“She wanted to sit down when we got here and then she knocked out.”

Ashley pointed toward the hallway. “Soon as she wake up, she need to be in that bed.”

Megan nodded in agreement. “And you need clothes on, hydrated, and to breathe like a normal person.”

Abigail looked down at the towel wrapped around her and let out a tired sigh.

“Bossy,” she muttered.

Ashley smirked. “Learned from you.”

A soft silence settled over the room again, but it felt different now. Lighter.

Then from down the hall—

A small sound.

Movement.

The couch shifting.

All three of them looked toward the door.

Emma was waking up.