Some mornings her lungs don’t pull in enough air to feel full. Her heart starts to race and a slow panic begins to build inside her.
She knows she’s fine, that this is anxiety creeping in, even when she can’t identify any cause for concern, real or exaggerated. Somehow it’s worse when there’s nothing to pin it on.
Some mornings he can sense the tension in her body and hear the shallowness of her breath as she tosses and turns beside him.
He brings her close and tries to breathe for her, slow, deep breaths. They wait it out together.