Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(159)

Instead of returning to Sara's empty house, I kept driving. I knew exactly where I was going, even though I wouldn't let myself consider why I was going there, or what might happen once I arrived.

I rang the buzzer and half hoped he wasn't home. My heart skipped a beat when the black metal door opened.



       
         
       
        

"Emma?" Jonathan scanned my face and instantly asked, "What happened?"

I took a breath. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." He backed up to let me pass.

I climbed the stairs with him behind me. I sat on the couch and he took a seat in the chair, anxiously awaiting my words.

"Rachel tried to kill herself last night," I revealed without any intonation in my voice.

Jonathan slowly nodded his head and lowered his eyes. He looked back up at me and told me, "Don't feel guilty."

My eyes scrunched in confusion, not certain if I'd heard him correctly.

"For not caring... you shouldn't feel guilty."

My eyes instantly glossed over, knowing the real reason I'd driven here―because he understood. My throat tightened.

"I feel so horrible. What kind of person am I? I mean, she's my mother―"

"No she's not. She never was," he countered softly. "Emma, she wasn't even close to being your mother. You have every right to hate her."

I bowed my head in my hands and sobbed―each gasp sending a wave of pain through my body. I wrapped my arms around my ribs, to no avail. I couldn't stop crying.

Jonathan moved next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "You didn't do anything wrong, Emma. It was her choice, not yours. You didn't make her do it."

"I told her to," I choked, tilting my head up at him.

"So," he responded, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It was her pain, not yours, that made her do it."

"But I wish," I stuttered, "I wish she were dead. Then maybe she'd stop hurting, and stop hurting me." I tried to continue but couldn't catch my breath. "That's so horrible. I'm so―"

"No," he soothed, pulling me to rest my head on his shoulder, gently rubbing my back. "She hurt you, Emma, over and over again. You can let her go now. Don't let her hurt you anymore."

I fought for my breath in the crook of his neck, letting him comfort me in his arms. It wasn't until I was able to calm enough to think straight that I realized it was not where I should be. I lifted my head, and his hand was on my cheek, wiping my tears. And then his soft lips were on mine.

I jumped up and stumbled back, shaking my head. "I can't."

Jonathan bent his head with a slow exhale. "I don't understand."

He looked up at me, and his eyes connected with mine, so exposed and vulnerable. My heart ached at the intensity of their emotion. I wiped my cheeks, and shook my head again. "I can't."

"You should ask yourself why you can't, Emma," he said calmly, pulling his eyes away, making me want to crumble in misery. "Is it because you don't feel it? You're here, so you must feel something. You can't deny that, no matter how hard you try." 

I shook my head, not in denial, but in confusion―not knowing why I was compelled to see him. I thought it was because I knew he'd understand. But I could have just called him. I didn't have to be here, to see him in person.

I couldn't think straight.

"You've been through a lot in the past week," he whispered, his dark brown eyes peering through me, seeing more than I ever intended. "So you should just wait. Wait until everything settles. Okay?"

I didn't say anything, not certain what he was asking of me.

"We have this connection, and it's crazy," he explained. "I don't know how to give it up, do you?"

I shook my head, unable to speak because I knew it was true.

"It's going to be okay, Emma, I promise. We'll figure this out."

"Okay," I whispered. I released a quick breath and said, "I should go."

"I know."

I approached the stairs, my knees weak. I turned back toward him and said, "Jonathan, thank you... for understanding."

"I'm always here for you, Emma," he smiled gently. I guided my way down the stairs, barely able to stand, not feeling that much better than when I'd arrived. Then again, I wasn't sure what I was feeling at all.





42. Something To Hold On To



You asked why I stayed when I had every reason to leave ~ I stayed for you. I was drawn to you almost instantly without really understanding what was happening. I will always be here for you, Emma.

I thought I caught a glimpse of his blue pickup truck in the bustle of the parking lot-amidst the cars trying to position for spots and bodies not getting out of their way. I stretched my head around a group of guys in letter jackets to get a better view.