Amber drove slowly back to Emilia’s farmhouse on the edge of the city. Every now and then she glanced over at the sleeping woman beside her to make sure she was okay.
She’d left the queue at the café when she noticed that Emilia had gone deathly pale and was looking faint. It was only a few minutes later when the inevitable had happened and Emilia blacked out in her arms.
Luckily a doctor happened to be shopping at the time and rushed to the rescue. While Amber was talking with him, Emilia had slackened. She was heavier than she looked, and Amber was grateful that the doctor helped her to save Emilia from hitting the floor.
Emilia came around quickly but was still out of it. The doctor had quickly agreed with Amber’s diagnosis of exhaustion and generally being overwhelmed. He’d kindly helped Amber walk Emilia to the car and even left his business card in case she needed to contact him later.
As soon as they were in the car, Emilia had fallen asleep. Amber couldn’t blame her, she must have been exhausted. If she were honest with herself, she was drained as well.
The moment she realised that Emilia was going to pass out—and had thankfully caught her slim body in an awkward bearhug—she realised something. Emilia meant something to her.
She meant more than the contract which had impossibly slipped her mind on more than one occasion. At some point it had morphed from a business relationship to a friendship… and maybe even more. Seeing Emilia struggle with her fears had been difficult and Amber had wanted to sweep her into a hug and protect her from the modern world which she obviously found so disturbing.
She’d been around people with anxiety before, but nothing as serious as the symptoms Emilia was exhibiting. She was still uncertain what the root cause of the anxiety was, and knew she was not qualified to diagnose it herself. Whatever it was, it was clearly a lot more debilitating than Amber had first realised.
She wondered if Emilia had always suffered with crippling anxiety, if that was the reason for her reclusive lifestyle. Or had refusing to leave the house made the anxiety worse? Without knowing more about Emilia and her history, it was impossible to say.
She felt to blame. Without her presence, Emilia would never have found herself in the shopping mall. She would have been happily walking around her beloved lake and identifying distant birdcalls.
Emilia let out a groan. Amber indicated and quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“Hey, welcome back.” She turned to regard Emilia, sitting back to give her some room as her eyes flickered opened.
Emilia looked around the car in confusion, her eyes wild and unfocused.
“Var är jag?”
Amber had never felt so useless in all her life. Emilia was scared and in need of comfort, and the only Swedish phrase she had managed to learn was God Jul. Wishing her a Merry Christmas now wasn’t going to help.
She ignored the language switch and hoped that Emilia would be able to cope with speaking English. “How are you feeling?”
Emilia looked at her, her eyes slowly becoming less wild. Realisation seemed to set in. She looked around the car, and a deep blush started up her throat and onto her cheeks.
“Did I faint?”
“You did,” Amber confirmed. She handed over a bottle of water. “Have a drink.”
Emilia grasped the bottle in both hands and took a small sip. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I must have made a terrible scene.”
“Not really. Everyone was too busy Christmas shopping to care about what you were doing. And a really hunky doctor literally leapt to our rescue. He vaulted over a bench, it was great.”
Emilia started to smile. “You’re just being kind.”
“No, seriously, he was buff. He must live in the gym. He offered to carry you but then you woke up and were able to walk so, you know, bad timing on your part.”
Emilia started to laugh. “I don’t remember.”
“Never mind,” Amber reassured her. She wasn’t surprised Emilia couldn’t remember. She’d been in a complete daze as she leant into Amber and allowed herself to be led to the car.
Emilia looked around. “We’re going home?”
“We are. I got the hunky doctor to carry your books and my bags and now we’re heading home. Satnav says we’re about twenty minutes away.” She pointed to the screen.
“I am sorry,” Emilia repeated.
“Seriously, there’s no need to be sorry. But you and I do need to start learning to communicate. I promise to tell you when I’m freezing to death if you promise to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed. I know crowds can be a bit much. You don’t need to try to be a hero.”
She looked at her seriously, wishing Emilia would understand that she wasn’t in any way angry or disappointed. In fact, she was concerned. Emilia had quickly become very important to her and seeing her suffer had been difficult to say the least.
Amber was fighting the instinct to wrap her arms around Emilia and hold her close and tell her that everything would be okay.
“I feel very silly,” Emilia confessed, refusing to make eye contact as she studied the dashboard.
Amber’s heart broke. Emilia was so sweet and open with her feelings. She didn’t know if it was a fundamental part of her persona, or the fact that she had grown up in such a small and insular world that she had never learnt any different. Whatever the reason, it was adorable.
She’d struggled to admit when she wasn’t feeling well, but that was solely for Amber’s benefit. Putting Amber’s wishes above her own health. That aside, Emilia was often an open book.
“You don’t need to feel silly. You couldn’t control it. And truth be told, I could tell you were suffering a little beforehand and I didn’t do enough to make sure that you were okay. So, technically, I’m silly.”
“You’re not sill—”
Amber held up her hand. “No, I refuse to have a debate with you about who is the silliest. Not until you have shown me where that local pizzeria is.”
“Pizza?”
“Well, we both know that I can’t cook, but I can buy dinner. And I think you need a nice, big, greasy pizza to make you feel better. We can take it home and eat it on a plate like a grown-up. Best of both worlds.”
Emilia seemed to agree with that, slowly nodding her head. She still looked so young and lost. Amber promised herself that she would dote on Emilia that evening. If she didn’t, who would?