Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(97)

Pain eased through my body like venom. I opened my mouth to cry out, but nothing happened.

"What did you do?" Jonathan demanded again more urgently. "Emma, are you okay?"

"Emma what's wrong?" Evan's muted voice was etched with concern.

I looked into her eyes again, and swore I saw loathing. I winced.

I couldn't be there any longer. I needed to get out. But I couldn't. My legs refused to cooperate. I choked on the sobs that were suffocating me. My body was on fire, searing in pain. I had to get away from her.

Before I knew what I'd done, I was out the front door―the legs that had failed me moments before were now carrying me in a run down the street. I couldn't run fast enough. But no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't escape the ache that was crushing my chest. I breathed in, but I couldn't get enough air.

I ran down random street after street before collapsing on the damp, muddy ground, gripping my chest. It felt like it was about to burst open. I screamed in pain.

It all came back to me in a rush. The call. My mother yelling out in denial. I watched as if a spectator of a play. I didn't understand, but at the same time, I understood too well. He wasn't coming home. He was never coming home again.

I don't know how long I lay on the cold, wet ground, consumed in grief. I was pulled back to the surface when a warm hand brushed across my cheek. He gently propped my head on his lap as he soothed me with comforting words I couldn't quite make out.

"It's okay," he whispered.

"It hurts so bad," I gasped, my body tense. "Please make it stop." The tears continued down my cheeks.

Evan pulled me off the ground and carried me to the car. He gently set me down on the passenger seat, bending down to kiss my forehead. I curled up in a ball, still clutching my chest―afraid that if I let it go, I would fall apart.

I began to shiver, the cold earth having seeped into my bones. The warmth of the car did little to ease the shaking. Evan draped his jacket over me, and I burrowed my nose into the collar, breathing in his scent.

I fought for each breath, my jaw quivering. I was consumed by the pain, unable to escape it. It was crushing me.

I was trapped in my grief, barely aware of where we were when the car stopped. I think he may have tried to talk to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. His voice was muffled and distant. I closed my eyes and pressed my face against his chest when he lifted me from the car.

I remained still as he rested me on his bed. I felt my shoes slide off my feet and my pants glide over my legs. I couldn't focus, but my eyes were open. I could only feel, and I didn't know how to shut it off. I couldn't push it back down to the hidden depths of darkness where I'd been protected from it for so many years. I was losing him all over again.

Warmth pressed against my back and his arms pulled me into him. I gripped his hand, holding it tightly, keeping myself tethered to the present just enough so that I could regain perspective of where I was, lying on Evan's bed.

"I'm here, Emma. I'll never let you go," he whispered in my ear, holding me tighter.

My frame shook as I cried, releasing the torment that had been trapped since that day, ten years ago. I found reprieve sometime in the early hours of the next day when exhaustion shrouded the pain and I drifted into a sleep filled with vivid images of my father.





25. All Over Again



Before I opened my eyes, I heard music playing softly in the background. I couldn't quite figure out who was singing, but his voice was calming. I breathed in, letting the melody float over me before deciding to open my eyes. They didn't open very wide.



       
         
       
        

My eyes were swollen and puffy, and my entire body ached, especially my chest. I eased myself out of the curled position I'd locked myself in throughout the night. Though he wasn't in the room, Evan had left behind the comforting lyrics flowing through the speakers.

I sat on the edge of the bed and breathed in deeply. I felt empty, like everything inside of me had spilled out and there was nothing left. I rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. Not bothering to look at myself as I passed by the mirror, having seen the vacant look one too many times.

I stripped down and climbed into the shower, allowing the hot water to beat against my skin. The exhaustion held tight, even after the long shower. A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt were set on the floor in front of the door when I got out. Evidently Evan knew I was awake.

I dressed in the t-shirt that hung past my hips, and folded the waistband of the pants over so I wouldn't trip on them. I braided my wet hair before stepping back into the room. He was waiting for me, sitting up against the headboard, flipping through the channels with the television on mute.