Coming Home to Wishington Bay. Maxine Morrey
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‘Inspecting my work?’
I was so startled, I took a step or two back and bumped into the deck’s railing.
‘Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.’
I shook my head as I gave him a smile and tried to fight the tightness in my chest that had suddenly gripped me at the jolt. Gabe took a step closer.
‘Holly? Are you OK? You’ve gone really pale.’
‘Yep!’ I huffed out, struggling to catch my breath at the same time as trying to appear unconcerned and nonchalant.
Clearly I was nowhere near as good an actress as my grandmother had been.
‘Well, that’s obviously a lie. Sit down here a minute.’ His hand was at my elbow, gently steering me towards one of the loungers. ‘Is this what happened at work?’
My mind flew back to that day and the world began to spin faster as all the panic I’d felt flooded back. I’d been doing my best to pretend none of this was happening and that I was totally fine but there was a little part of me that wanted to stop denying it all. To actually cry out and tell him that yes, this was exactly it, and that I wished for him, anyone really, to just please make it stop because as much as I was an independent, free-thinking woman who took charge of her life, the fact that this happened was scaring the crap out of me. But as I was still struggling for breath and my head was swimming, all I could really do was nod. And even that took some effort.
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