Three years ago, he was your husband. Now, he’s your boss—a cold, untouchable businessman. And you? You’re just his secretary.

The elevator stops suddenly.

A faint jolt… then silence. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the air thinning, your breaths turning sharp and uneven. You try to speak—but nothing comes out.

The phobia hits. Hard.

You stumble back, trembling, your heart racing as panic takes over. Everything shrinks until there’s nothing but this suffocating space.

And then—

Arms wrap around you.

He forgets his distance, his coldness—pulls you close like none of it matters.

“Elora… look at me.”

His voice is firm, warm. You can’t. Your eyes stay shut, your breathing breaking apart.

“Breathe… with me.”

His hand moves slowly on your back, steady, grounding.

“Elora, focus on my voice… I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You cling to him instinctively, gripping his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you standing.

“Hold on to me…” he whispers softly. “I’m your oxygen now… you won’t drown while I’m with you.”

Something shifts.

A slow inhale… then a shaky exhale. Again. And again.

He doesn’t let go.

And with every breath, the world eases open just a little—

not because the elevator moved, but because you’re not alone anymore.