Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(114)

“For making this the best birthday for me,” he discloses nervously.

“I haven’t been much company,” I counter. “You would have had a better time with . . . .”

“I’m having a great time,” he admits freely.

I shake my head in opposition.

“I’m getting to spend it with you,” he reveals.

My heart flutters at his words as moisture collects in my eyes. “Please,” I beg, on the verge of crying.

“I’m sorry,” Joe says, noticing the change in me. “Don’t cry. I meant for it to make you smile.”


The left corner of my mouth curls up for a second. “Thank you.” It takes me a second, but I wish, “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Joe saw with a sweet smile.

Once we finish our meal, I take care of the tab with Joe not insisting for the first time since we’ve had a meal together. He does comment that he thought about it, but knew not to press the issue. This gets a little chuckle from me.

“What’s next?” he asks inquisitively as we make it to the sidewalk.

“I got tickets for a show on Broadway,” I share. “I had gotten three tickets, knowing that Taylor would want to have two of them in the theater with me. We can see if we can get another ticket or if he’s willing to give up one of the seats for you.”

“Let’s see what we can do when we get there,” Joe suggests.

We walk a block east and several streets north up to the theater district. We’re able to get an extra ticket for Joe since it’s a Thursday and we’re ushered right in. The theater lobby looks the same as I remember when we enter and it takes me a few minutes to collect myself after being seated. When my parents brought me the night of the accident, it was my fifth broadway show — Cats. While looking for tickets online, I was gravely disappointed to find out that the show had been cancelled. Wanting to visit the same theater building, the show option is An American in Paris.

During intermission, Joe, Sadie and I hide in a side hallway, wanting to minimize being recognized and to have a little privacy. A few cast members and stagehands pass by us and are eager to pet Sadie. We take turns using the bathroom before heading in for the second set.

Joe and I arrive back at the hotel late in the evening after our eight o’clock Broadway entertainment. The play was very well done and not what I had expected. I cried a few times and Joe was sweet enough to hold my hand and offer me his handkerchief.

Once we’re in for the night and under the covers, Joe asks, “Did you want to try to go tomorrow since we didn’t make it today?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

“I’ll have Hunter ready with a car for whenever you’re ready to go,” he shares.

“Okay,” I agree. “Joe.”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Of course,” he replies.

“Joe,” I call again.

“Yes,” he returns with a chuckle.

“Happy Birthday,” I offer, following it with a kiss.

Joe returns his lips to mine for another long embrace. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight, Joe.”





Ninety Two


I wake groggy from a restless night. The nightmare occurred again, which was to be expected, but Joe and Sadie helped changed my mood pretty quickly. We take our time getting out of bed as Taylor assists with Sadie again. Room service delivers breakfast and I find myself dragging out every activity; unconsciously procrastinating.

By ten in the morning, Joe, Sadie and I are greeted by Hunter who holds open a limo door for us. My leg shakes ferociously the entire time despite Joe holding my hand and offering comforting kisses. The ride out of New York and into New Jersey is pretty smooth at this time of day since most people are driving into the city verses leaving. A trip that can take anywhere from thirty minutes to a few hours only takes us forty minutes, causing me to be there sooner than I would have preferred.

Staring out the tinted window, my mind races as I study the house that I once lived in. I’m able to control myself enough to not allow tears, but I know they can break through at any moment. After a few deep breaths, I nod to Joe and he opens the door, exiting first. He holds his hand out for me, offering assistance and support. My legs tremble from both the cold weather and the anxiety streaming through me.

“Which one?” he asks, standing close behind me.

“Huh?” I mumble, keeping my attention on the house.

“Which one did you live in?”

“The one on the left,” I share.

I take a few tentative strides toward the house, peering up the wide steps that lead up to the stone porch. A creepy feeling surges through me when the furniture on the porch and the curtains hanging in the window look exactly the same. It feels as if my parents have never left.

“Emma?” a strange voice calls out to me.

I turn my head to the right to find an older woman exiting a car with the help of her husband.

“Emma?” she repeats. “Is that you, my dear?”

Water trickles down my checks, a knot forms in my stomach and my lungs suck in oxygen as I don’t believe who’s standing right in front of me. “Mrs. Nelson?”

“It is you,” she shouts, shuffling to get to me through the little bit of snow that covers the ground. “Oh, my heavens. You’re alive!” She wraps her arms around me with such force she almost takes us both to the ground.