A Perfect Chance by Becca Lee Read Free Book Online

Considering the impact on me, I could only begin to imagine how hard it hit her.
    "Thanks. I have to head out. Let me quickly speak to Lena. I think it's best I tell her what's going on."
    I faced Lena once more and held out my phone to her. She lifted her brows in confusion as she took it from me. I finally registered the horn blowing in the background and the repetitive call of, "Sir, your order?" I pulled out my card and pressed it against the payWave reader before taking Lena's coffee and a sickly looking frozen concoction from the kid serving. Fucking peaches.
    Placing the drinks in the cup holders, I pulled away and headed to a parking space. I needed to deal with whatever fallout came from Lena finding out about her sleeping arrangements.
    Putting the car in Park, I allowed the engine to idle as I angled to look at Lena. Her head was down, phone to her ear, and she was slowly nodding. I smiled slightly, knowing I regularly did the same thing when on the phone. A whispered, "Okay, love you and stay safe," alerted me to her ending the call. I waited as she pulled the phone from her ear and pressed End.
    I watched Lena carefully as she took a deep breath, held it, and then released it slowly. She did this a couple more times before she handed me my phone and looked at me.
    Her eyes were wide, bright, and for the life of me I could not figure out what the hell she was thinking.
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    LENA
     
    Heat rose in my chest, rising up my neck and across my cheeks. I had no idea if it was the beginning of a panic attack or from hearing I'd be staying at Mace's house, sleeping there, for a couple of nights at least. Considering my thoughts were relatively clear, I assumed it was the latter, or, at least, hoped it was the latter since the last thing I wanted was to break down.
    I'd been doing so well over the last few weeks, with only a few minor attacks. I'd even stopped taking my antidepressants, much to Janie's chagrin. I'd explained to her, even though she was just a friend and not my therapist, that while they'd helped me manage in the past, I'd been slowly weaning myself off them. I’d met with my doctor several months back and told him my plan to wean off, and he was supportive of that as long as I started work on my behaviour therapy again. So I did. But this time, it was on my terms, my own plan, with some friendly help from Janie, even though she tried to set me up with an appointment with her colleague. At my refusal, she'd promised to watch out for me as a friend, making it clear that because of our relationship she couldn't counsel me. I grabbed the opportunity with eagerness, and readily accepted any support she could give me.
    Over the years, I'd had many therapy sessions. They'd worked really well at the time and had helped me to get to the point I was currently at. I knew I was stubborn, but after years of therapy and meds, I finally felt as though I was taking control of my actions and my responses to situations. I was far from magically healed, but my desire for complete control trumped all other logic. I would try. That was all I could do at this point. If I failed, then I would go to Plan B: back to the professionals.
    Knowing I was headed to Mace's, an unknown place, spiked my adrenaline. There was no time to ease me into it gradually. Instead, I'd need to find an alternative way to deal with my increasingly rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath. I took deep calming mouthfuls of air, aware that Mace had collected our coffees and moved the car. When I heard movement, I finally looked at him.
    Concern dipped his brows low. Gone was the usual confidence. Instead, his eyes roamed my face, no doubt looking for some sort of sign as to how I was handling it all.
    "Okay," I answered the unspoken question. "I can do this." I nodded. "Right?" My hesitant second-guessing was palpable in the small space.
    Mace offered me a small smile, his hands reaching out to clasp mine. Grounded by the contact,