Out of Breath (Breathing, #3)(99)

Her eyes dipped sorrowfully. She sunk further into the bed as the guilt pulled on her. I wished I had the strength to lift it from her.

‘You’ve worn guilt like an iron mask, welded to you, because you’re convinced that you’re to blame for what happens to everyone else. You martyr yourself for things you’re not responsible for. And you end up hurting the people you care about because you push them away, believing you’re protecting them.’ Emma remained quiet. ‘You can’t continue to carry that guilt any more. You can’t keep shutting everyone out. That’s not living, Emma.’

‘I know,’ she whispered, swiping the tears away.

‘Living in the mistakes of your past isn’t going to do anything but destroy your future.’

The truth in his words shook me, and I held on to them with my fists tight, letting the tears seep into the pillow.

I thought I’d concealed the darkness so well, but he’d seen through my facade – the forced smiles and the evasive answers. He knew me.

I wished he didn’t.

I focused on his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Evan. I’m so sorry for leaving you on the floor of that house. For not saying anything when I left for California. It was the worse choice I ever made.’

‘Taking away mine.’

I scrunched my eyes slightly, not understanding.

‘You never gave me a choice, Emma. I think that’s why it’s so difficult to forgive you. You chose for me. Just like my father did most of my life – until I was finally able to stand up to him. But with you, it was different. I would’ve done anything for you.’

The weight on my chest got heavier the more he spoke, until I felt it would splinter my bones. To be compared to his father made me want to dissolve into the mattress.

I never gave him a chance to decide if I was worth loving. I’d taken that choice away from him – because I feared what it would be.

‘Then be mad at me, Evan,’ I finally pleaded. ‘Please. Yell. Be angry. Do something. Stop accepting all the times I f*ck up. Quit being so understanding. If you’d gotten pissed off every once in a while, and hadn’t just avoided me or left, then I would’ve had to choose too. I thought I was doing the right thing by protecting you, as insane as that sounds now. I have such a f*cked-up life; I didn’t want you to know … I didn’t want you to see that side of me.’

‘What side?’

‘The side that I hate,’ she shared with a strained voice. She’d reached her limit, and rolled over, unable to face me any more. I was speechless; her honesty and raw vulnerability thrust into my chest like a sledgehammer. Struck with an equal rush of awe and exhaustion, I clicked off the lamp.

I moved closer to her and said quietly, ‘I will get mad at you, I promise. But not tonight. I’m too tired.’ She let out an emotional breathy laugh. ‘But right now, I’m going to hold you, because you need it, and so do I. Okay?’

‘Are you giving me a choice?’ she asked, a hint of sarcasm breaking through the tears.

I laughed. ‘Yes, Emma, I’m giving you a choice.’

‘Okay,’ she replied, scooting back a little until she felt me. I wrapped my arm around her, and she slid her fingers between mine. I pressed my face into her hair. She whispered, ‘I won’t take your choices away from you again. I promise.’





31


Truce


THE IVORY CURTAINS THAT HUNG ON THE glass doors did little to block out the bright morning light. I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head, not ready to be awake.

‘Hey, Em,’ Evan called to me. I grumbled under the pillow. ‘Good to see you hate mornings again. Do you want breakfast?’

I lifted the pillow, about to tell him I could make my own breakfast, when words failed me completely. Evan stood with the door partly open, slicked with sweat, in just a pair of running shorts. I forced my eyes to stare at the ceiling rather than his carved body. What had he been doing the past two years?

My heart was beating so fast, my entire body was flushed.

‘Emma?’

‘I, um … whatever,’ I said without looking at him.

‘Is there something wrong?’

‘Evan, put a shirt on,’ I blurted, my cheeks burning intensely.

He laughed. ‘Really?’

‘Shut up.’ I pulled the pillow back over my head.

‘Would you listen to me if I asked you to cover your legs?’ he asked, taking me by surprise.

‘What?’ I shot back, sitting up. I felt my hair floating around my head and flattened it behind my ears.

He grinned and walked away. I grumbled and pushed the covers off me, trudging to the bathroom.

When Emma finally came out of the bedroom, the spoon completely missed my mouth, smearing milk along my chin.

‘What the hell?’ I exclaimed. ‘Those barely qualify as underwear.’ Emma sauntered into the room in a pair of the shortest denim shorts I’d ever seen. Her tan legs, defined with lines of lean muscle, crossed in front of me as I sat on the couch.

‘What do you mean?’ she said, playing the innocent. ‘They’re shorts. It’s summer.’

‘Did you just cut them? Because I know you’d never buy a pair of shorts that short. Seriously, they’re … revealing.’ As soon as I said it, she tugged at them slightly, her cheeks turning red. I grinned, hoping she would change.