The thought sucks the last of the oxygen out of the air. I grip my skirt with clammy hands. I never should have posted it. I was wrong. I didn't want him to see it. So wrong. I have to go take it down.
Can't breathe. Can't freaking breathe.
"Kel?" He looks around, alarmed. "Where's your inhaler?"
I'm already tottering across the living room into the kitchen. In a drawer next to the refrigerator, I pull out my inhaler and shake it frantically, before taking a puff that I pull in deep. Then another.
"Kelly?"
I shake my head and lean on the counter. But it's still hard to inhale, so I let myself down to the floor, put my back to the cupboard, and close my eyes.
"Kel? What can I do? What do you need?"
I just need to focus on relaxing, breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth.
"Kel—"
In, out. In, out. "Gimme a sec."
