Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(19)

‘Emma?’ Meg’s soothing voice came from the open door of the bathroom. ‘Are you okay?’ Then I heard her say, ‘She’s here, Sara. But she’s sick.’

‘No,’ I coughed, shaking my head. ‘No, I’m here.’ I dropped the tissue that I’d used to wipe my mouth into the toilet before closing the lid and flushing it. I flopped onto the floor with my back against the wall, my muscles trembling as if I were sitting outside in the middle of a snowstorm. ‘Let me talk to her.’ I reached out my unsteady hand.

Meg studied me for a moment, then stepped into the small bathroom and handed me her phone. She didn’t leave when I put it to my ear, opting to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

‘Sara?’ I rasped, my throat raw. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I ran the back of my hand across my upper lip, clearing the ledge of sweat. I couldn’t stop shaking. My shirt was damp, and my hair was plastered to my face like I’d just woken up from a nightmare. But I was very much awake.

‘You saw,’ she whispered knowingly.

‘Yeah,’ I returned quietly. ‘I wish I were there, with you.’

‘Me too,’ she whimpered. My eyes blurred. Hot tears streaked down my cold, clammy skin.

‘But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Just close your eyes, and it will be like I’m right there next to you. We’re facing each other, and I’m holding your hand. I’m there, Sara.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she cried. ‘I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me. Why did I have to see it in the f*cking newspaper?’ She released a scream full of anger and pain. I remained silent. ‘He knew I’d see it. He knew how much it would kill me.’ Her voice cracked, and she broke into heart-crushing sobs. I closed my eyes, and tears continued to cascade down my face.

I’d almost forgotten Meg was in the bathroom with me until I felt her hand in mine. I laid my head on her shoulder and listened to Sara cry. My back ached from holding in my own sobs. But I couldn’t do that to her. She needed me. I had to push away my pain so there was room enough for hers.

‘Emma?’ she whispered.

‘I’m still here,’ I answered softly. ‘I just don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she replied, sniffling. ‘Stay on the phone with me, okay?’

‘For as long as you need me,’ I promised.

‘Emma,’ Meg beckoned to me, pulling back my thin veil of sleep. I blinked my eyes and realized I still had the phone to my ear, but it was quiet on the other end. I sat up from Meg’s lap and stretched. My neck felt contorted and cramped.

‘Sorry,’ I muttered.

‘It’s okay.’ Meg stretched her hands over her head and yawned. ‘I fell asleep too.’

‘What time is it?’ I asked, slowly pushing myself off the bathroom floor.

‘Almost seven,’ she groaned, standing too. I handed back her phone. ‘I’m going to bed. Em, will you be okay?’ I blinked at her through bleary, bloodshot eyes.

‘I’m fine,’ I answered automatically, not giving myself a second to consider otherwise. But I knew I wasn’t. The acrid reminder still burned the back of my throat. After dragging my feet to the bedroom, I picked up my phone from the floor and sent Sara a text to call me whenever she needed. Then I climbed into my bed, pulled the blanket over me, and shut everything out until I was forced to face it again.

I picked up the phone on the first ring a couple of hours later. Before I could ask how she was, she hollered, ‘He keeps calling me! What the f*ck?!’

‘Did you talk to him?’ I asked cautiously, struck by the venom in her tone.

‘Hell no! He can’t call me the day the announcement hits the papers and expect me to listen to an explanation. Fuck that! I’m so pissed off, Emma. So, so pissed!’

‘I can hear that,’ I noted sympathetically. ‘And I understand.’

She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. I knew there weren’t any words to console her. She just needed me to listen, and that’s what I did, as helpless as that made me feel.

‘She’s some f*cking socialite from New York. I don’t even think she went to college. How pathetic is that? What the f*ck can he possibly see in her? I mean, she is, I guess, attractive or whatever, but what the hell? She has a jewellery line that she puts her name on and claims to be a designer. Yeah, right. I can’t f*cking believe that’s who he’s marrying! What the –’

Her voice broke off, indicating she was receiving another call.

‘Do you need to get that?’ I offered gently.

She hesitated. ‘Omigod! He’s f*cking calling again. I need to block his calls and emails, so I gotta go. I’ll call you later.’ And then she was gone.

Her raging fit, coupled with my role as the mute bystander, left me exhausted. I wanted her to feel better. To go back to the exuberant, energetic person I loved like a sister. Sara was stronger than I was, so I had hope that she’d recover from this. But wanting something didn’t always make it happen.

Every choice had a consequence. I’d earned every aching beat that pounded in my chest.

Emma!

The sound of him calling me, lying battered and abandoned on the floor of my mother’s house, echoed within me. I was the only one to blame for my desolation.