I’m falling for her. Even more shocking, I’m enjoying it.

“Did you get the mail?” Emma grabs me from behind as soon as I enter the apartment. She smells like something spicy so I know she’s been cooking again.

I hold up the stack of letters. Emma has forwarded her mail to my address temporarily so that she doesn’t have to return home to pick it up.

“How are things with your sister?” From what I can understand, they still aren’t getting along.

“Well, she finally returned my calls but she hasn’t explained where she disappeared to or why she didn’t call me back.” She glances at me and then flips through the stack of letters, pulling out her bills. “She accused me of hitting on Jon.”

“What? Why would she say that?”

“I’m sure he told her that. He’s so sick. And very good at this game. Because he told her that, now she thinks anything bad I say about him is because I’m ‘jealous and want him for myself.’ Those were her exact words by the way.” She smiles but I can tell how much it hurts her.

“I’m sorry. Hopefully she’ll realize how wrong she is soon.”

“She actually said that it was for the best if I don’t come home for a while. Not that I want to be there.” She rips open one of the letters and suddenly she’s completely still. Then she crumples up the letter and drops it in the trash.

“Everything okay?” I watch as she opens the refrigerator and stands there, staring aimlessly,

“Yeah, fine.”

I wrap her in my arms from behind. “Talk to me buttercup. And none of that fine stuff. Everyone knows that’s woman code for something is wrong, please ask me. This is the one area where we’ve never been backward. You’ve always been honest with me. I think that’s one of the things I love the best about you.”

She stiffens in my arms. “I’m not perfect, Tank. Not by a long shot.” She sounds so sad when she says it.

I squeeze her tighter. “I disagree. You told me I was an arrogant flirt. You forced me to realize how much my father’s desertion bothered me. You’ve never held back on me before. Talking to you is the best part of my day.”

She looks over her shoulder and then leans forward and kisses me on the tip of my nose. “It’s just school stuff. I shouldn’t let it bother me so much.”

“Is it about your classes next year?”

She rolls her eyes but her nonchalant attitude can’t camouflage the sheen of tears clinging to her lashes. “There might not be any classes next year for me. I didn’t get one of the grants I applied for. It’s the biggest one I’m eligible for so I’m just really disappointed.”

My laugh startles us both.

She turns to me with a disbelieving look. The refrigerator door closes with a slam. “Did you just laugh?”

“Emma, baby, I’m sorry. It’s just that … well, we’ve never talked about this. But I’m going to guess you know I’m not exactly poor since you know my dad.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Why haven’t you asked me? You know I’d love to help you reach your dream. And I’ve seen you with animals. You are going to be a wonderful, compassionate veterinarian. Poochie and I are lucky to have you.” I grin.

She doesn’t smile back. “You can’t give me the money.”

“Why not? This is something I want to do.”

“Maybe this just isn’t meant to be,” she continues. “Maybe this is a sign that being a veterinarian isn’t what I’m supposed to do with my life. Is it crazy to keep trying for something when the universe is telling you it won’t happen?”

“Or maybe this is a sign that you should learn to ask for help. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. It’s okay to let someone catch you. To let me catch you.”

“Why? So I can drag you down with me? So we can both sink?”

“No. So I can pull you up.” I’m truly stunned. The idea of her turning the money down never occurred to me. I think of all the girls I’ve dated in the past. The thought of any of them turning down a gift is laughable.

“Well, I don’t want you to do it. This is my dream and I’ll get there through my own hard work. Not because my boyfriend bought it for me.” She pulls away from me, and takes in several gasping breaths. “Oh god, this is just … I can’t breathe.”

I crouch down and peer into her eyes. She’s flushed and still taking breaths like she’s been underwater for hours. This is how she looked when she saw my gun in the nightstand. But there’s nothing here that could possibly have scared her like that. “What’s happening, Emma? Tell me what’s going on?”

Her eyes look strange, the pupils slightly dilated. She sits down right in the middle of the floor and puts her head between her knees. Her breaths are coming a little slower now. She threads her fingers together and holds them behind her neck.

I sit next to her and rub her back gently. Once her breathing sounds more normal, she looks over at me. “Panic attack. They always hit me out of nowhere.”

I wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “Are you okay?” Watching her suffering and not being able to do anything is excruciating.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

We sit quietly together, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor. “Everything is going to be okay, you know? School, work, all of it. You’ll figure it out. I know you will and I’ll be there to help as much or as little as you’ll let me. You’ve got this, Emma.”