Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card
I did as he told me, and already I was feeling a tiny bit better, but I was also feeling unbelievably embarrassed. The last time I felt that close to losing it was days after Celia’s burial services when the numbness began to wear off and the reality that she was gone finally hit me. Gemma had been so close to calling 911.
I must’ve looked ready to lose it again because Aaron stood before me and appeared ready to catch me if he had to.
“Does this happen often?” he asked, searching my eyes but sounding very professional, and I could almost picture him in his firefighter uniform assisting and collecting information from a patient.
“No.” I shook my head, glad that what I was sure the beginning of an anxiety attack seemed to be passing. “Not since my sister died. It’s been more than three years now. I’m so sorry—”