Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(56)

My hands shook as I positioned myself behind the black-draped pulpit. I glanced in Sara’s direction and was suddenly rocked by the memory of her impassioned plea.

She hurt you, Emma, over and over again. You can let her go now. Don’t let her hurt you any more.

I redirected my attention out at the drawn faces awaiting my words. Words that I hadn’t prepared. So I decided that in this moment I would be … honest.

‘I don’t want to be here.’ My voice came out strained and barely audible. ‘None of us should be here.’ I cleared my throat and again looked towards Sara, whose large unblinking eyes followed my every movement as she gripped the pew in front of her.

She can’t keep hurting you and using you like an emotional punching bag. How many times do you have to forgive her before she destroys you?

‘I wouldn’t be able to begin to list the ways my mother has shaped me. I am the person I am because of her, and I awaken each day reminded of how she has contributed to my existence. I blame her –’ I paused, clearing my throat again as I gnashed my teeth together – ‘early departure on an unforgiving fate. Tragedy was too familiar to us both. It claimed my father many years ago. She lived so much of her life in pain. A pain that I witnessed helplessly for years. In the end she couldn’t live with it, and didn’t know how to let it go. Maybe now she will find the peace she spent so much of my life searching for, now that she is finally with him.’

This is about you. It’s always been about you – what you want, how you feel, who you want to be with. Why do you keep obsessing over a man who never loved you?

I pried my hands open from their frozen grasp of the pulpit. My entire body shook as I walked down the steps towards the aisle. The McKinleys rose to allow me access to the pew, but I lowered my head and kept walking.

‘Where’s she going?’ Sara whispered in a panic.

‘I don’t know,’ I responded, looking after her along with everyone else in the church as she headed towards the large double doors at end of the aisle, and pushed them open. They sealed shut behind her.

‘Go down the side aisle,’ I instructed Sara. There was a stir in the pews as the mourners whispered in speculation.

I followed Sara down the dark carpet towards the back of the church as the reverend’s authoritative tone redirected the attention back to the pulpit, where he began reciting scripture.

We pushed through the heavy wooden doors, out to the stone steps. The sun seemed impossibly bright after the gloominess of the church. I shielded my eyes to look for Emma.

The town car was gone.





18


Still Here


I EASED OPEN THE DOOR AND GENTLY CLOSED it behind me. She continued to stare out the large window, her legs drawn in to her, sitting on the window’s ledge.

I bumped into a stool, not paying attention to anything but her. Emma turned towards me, her eyes reflective and full of a sorrow that tore at my heart.

‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ she said, her voice coated in pain. ‘It’s not you who’s supposed to find me.’

The bite in her tone kept me from moving forward. ‘But I’m the only one who knows you’d be here.’

Emma closed her eyes, and I could see the muscle in her jaw flex as she fought to contain the emotions bubbling to the surface. I wanted to tell her to let them out. To stop fighting it.

‘I know why you needed to leave,’ I told her.

She began shaking her head, like she could force it all away.

‘I won’t cry for her,’ she croaked. ‘I won’t cry for her.’ She swallowed hard. ‘She doesn’t deserve my tears. She did this. She chose this. She doesn’t get to make me cry for her.’ Her entire frame recoiled in pain and anger, quivering to fend off the unwanted sorrow.

I stepped closer, fighting every instinct to hold her, to comfort her. Instead, I remained out of reach. That’s not why I was there.

Emma became still, burying her face in her knees. She lifted her head with her eyes closed, breathing in the scents that floated through the Art room. I waited for her to open her eyes, to find that I was still here.

‘Are you here to drive me to Sara’s?’ she asked, her voice calm, her eyes blank. I nodded, startled by the transformation.

‘I sent the town car back to the church to pick up Sara.’

‘Okay.’ She exhaled. ‘Let’s go.’

I rushed through the front door without looking at a single face that crowded the first floor. I gripped the white paper bag in my hand and hurried up the stairs.

‘You stopped for burgers?’ I heard Sara snap at Evan.

‘What? She hasn’t eaten in two days. So, yes, we stopped for burgers.’ His voice faded as I climbed.

I collapsed on the white leather couch in Sara’s entertainment room, rummaging through the bag for the burger and scooping a few fries from the bottom that I hadn’t eaten in the car. I couldn’t recall ever being this hungry.

‘Feeling any better?’ Sara asked as she reached the top of the stairs.

I nodded, my mouth full of the greasy burger that I could’ve sworn was the best thing I’d ever tasted. I wiped the ketchup from my lip and took a sip of the soda.

‘I’m sorry,’ I told Sara as she sat down next to me.