Page 103 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

Robert doesn’t follow my madness. He just stands there watching me. But with the way his brows pull together and his lips thin, I know he’s thinking. Hard.

“What are we going to do?” He asks, the confusion and fight draining out of him.

“What?” I scoff, pausing to check if he’s really asking me that question.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” I snap before I can put a leash on my tongue, my voice rising despite everything in me telling me to keep it down. “I don’t know, okay?” I start pacing again. “I didn’t think…” I stop, shaking my head, my hands lifting like I can physically push the thought away. “I didn’t think you would ever show up.”

My chest cramps, something like claws digging into my heart.

“And then you just…” I let out a breath that doesn’t go anywhere, my lungs not cooperating, my body suddenly out of sync with everything else. “You just show up. Like this. Like you can just step into something that’s been my life for years and ask me what we’re going to do…”

My breath stutters. It stops. Starts again, jams, shallow, my chest heaving too quickly now, my fingers biting into my ribs to force it to slow down.

I hate this.

I hate that it’s happening in front of him.

This started after I had Blue, one of those strange, cruel perks that came with motherhood.

The first time it happened, she had slept six straight hours, and instead of relief, panic took over. I woke up convinced something was wrong, my heart racing before I even made it to her crib.

“Christine.” His voice wades through it.

Closer.

I don’t realize he’s moved until his hands are on me, one at my arm, the other coming up just enough to help me without trapping me.

“Breathe.”

I try, but it doesn’t work.

“Look at me.”

I do, because I have to. Because there’s something in his voice that doesn’t leave room for anything else.

“In,” he tells me quietly.

And I inhale a little too fast.

“Slowly.” He chides softly.

I nod, trying again, and this time it works.

“Out.”

The air leaves me, shaky, but it leaves.

“Again.”

This time, we do it together, over and over again until my chest stops fighting me. Until the panic loosens its grip just enough for me to feel like I’m back inside my own body.

My shoulders drop slightly, my breathing stabilizing.

And I hate how much I needed that.

“We’ll figure it out.” His hand slides a little higher, resting at my shoulder now, not holding me in place, but just… there.