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Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(129)

By:Rebecca Donovan


"Yes, you will," she stated firmly, letting me know that she expected the extended version of the story. "I'll see you in a little while then."

I hung up and found a text waiting from Jonathan, You okay?

I have some major damage to fix, I answered.

I pulled out of the lot and headed to the house, not sure if Rachel would be home or not. I wanted to prepare myself either way, unsettled by both scenarios.

My phone beeped while I was driving. I glanced over at it to find, It was my fault. I can try to explain if you want. I am really so sorry Emma. Mad?



       
         
       
        

When I pulled into the driveway, I responded with, I knew what I was doing, not your fault. Not mad, but need time to make things better. Talk soon.

Just as I was about to open the door, my phone chimed again. My heartbeat picked up when I placed the phone to my ear, "Hi."

"Hi," Evan said so quietly I could barely hear him.

"I'm at the house picking up clothes for the weekend. I'll be at Sara's soon," I told him, my voice soft and cautious.

"I don't think I'm going to Sara's."

My heart twisted and I closed my eyes.

"Why?" I breathed.

"I think I need time away too," he explained in a quiet, even tone. My eyes filled. "Emma, I know you haven't been honest with me." A lump lodged in my throat. "I don't understand what's going on and why you can't tell me, but I know that you've been having problems with your mother. I knew when she called in the middle of the night at Sara's, and I saw how upset she was with you over that sweater. I saw what she did to you the night of her birthday, and I knew she was the reason you left Jill's party. And now this."

My breath shook as I listened to him, his insight crushing me.

"Emma, you're not letting me in... again. I can't... If I'm part of your life, then you can't keep shutting me out."

We were silent for a moment. Guilt strangled me, and I choked on every word that attempted to surface.

"I'll be back next Saturday. We'll talk then."

"Evan," I implored. But there wasn't anyone on the other end. I swallowed my tears and clamped my mouth shut to keep the hurt trapped. I couldn't fathom an entire week without talking to him―and I didn't know how to explain my motives when I finally did.

I got out of the car and dragged my body to the house. Anything Rachel said to me now would never be as painful as Evan's silence.

I reflected on how this day had begun with promises of the summer to come. The warmth still lingered, and there was even the scent of a fire pit in the air. It was unfortunate that the most gorgeous day of the year had become the darkest.

The front door was unlocked and the lights were off. The gold hues of twilight filtered through the windows and cast shadows along the floor. I walked to the stairs, deciding time might be what we all needed, and that I'd just get my things without seeking Rachel out.

"I tried," she murmured from within the living room. I turned toward her voice, and hesitated. "I really tried to like you. I wanted to."

I took a step closer, recognizing the signature slurs of her tongue. I was too broken to be wounded by her words, but decided I needed to hear them anyway. 

Light from the front window spread along the floor to the coffee table, leaving the couch in the dark. Rachel lay on her side, supporting her head on the arm of the couch. A nearly depleted bottle of vodka reflected on the coffee table next to a glass filled with ice.

Rachel grabbed the bottle and dumped it over the cubes, filling the glass to the rim. She picked it up, sloshing the vodka over the side, onto the floor. She took a large sip and placed the tumbler back on the table.

I stood in the entrance of the room, watching her. Truly wondering if the vodka took away her pain. It seemed to always amplify her temperament, not mask it. Or perhaps it released her secrets unfiltered, brutal and honest. I awaited the truthful assault.

"I thought he would love me more because of you. He was so happy when you were born. But you took him from me." She picked up the glass and took a larger sip before setting it down, half consumed.

"You can't take them all away from me, Emily."

I wasn't sure what she meant. At first I thought she was talking about his death, but I didn't know who else she meant... Then it hit me. Jonathan. She thought he'd chosen me over her.

"Why didn't they love me? Why wasn't I enough?" she choked, raising her voice. "Why you?" Her head lolled slightly as she shifted to face me. Her eyes were heavy, but the hatred in them was unmistakable. "You." She shook her head lazily, closing her lids with the motion. "You. You should never have been born."