Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(117)

“Thank you, sir,” Joe accepts.

“I should have come alone,” I challenge.

“I told you I wasn’t going to leave you alone, Emma,” Joe reminds.

“You shouldn’t have cancelled with you family,” I point out.

“Yesterday and today aren’t about me,” he encourages.

“Well, it should be. You should be celebrating your birthday with your family rather than dealing with my baggage,” I counter, raising my voice a little. I shove my bowl away from me, unable to eat.

“Happy Birthday, Joe,” Mrs. Nelson sings.

“Thank you,” Joe replies.

“Isn’t that cute, Benjamin,” Mrs. Nelson says.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Joe’s birthday is the day after Emma’s,” Mrs. Nelson comments. “I don’t have cake, but I do have brownies. I’ll get some candles and we’ll sing after everyone is done eating.”

“My birthday isn’t today. It was yesterday,” Joe informs.

“What?!” Mr. and Mrs. Nelson gasp.

“Your birthday was yesterday?” Joe questions, looking right at me.

“You two share the same birthday?” Mrs. Nelson questions.

The four of us look back and forth to each other as I desperately avoid making eye contact with Joe.

“No candles for me, Mrs. N,” I instruct. “I don’t celebrate it anymore.”

“I know the accident happened on you birthday, Emma, but you parents would still want you to celebrate,” Mrs. Nelson remarks.

“No,” I reply. “I don’t celebrate it. It’s my fault that they’re dead.”

How do you explain to someone, anyone, that you no longer celebrate your birthday because all you associate with it is death? How can I celebrate my birthday when that’s the same day my parents died? It was a happy sweet sixteen birthday until I woke up in the hospital. Even with all the soul searching, I still blame myself for them not being alive right now.

“Emma,” Mr. Nelson calls.

“You didn’t kill them, Emma,” Mrs. Nelson tries to soothe.

“Yes, I did,” I retaliate. “If we didn’t go out, they would still be alive.”

“Emma,” Joe says in a low voice.

“No!” I repeat, standing up. “Thank you for having us Mr. and Mrs. N, but I need to go.” I head to the door with Sadie and them on my heels as I put on my jacket.

“Emma,” the three of them repeatedly call, chasing after me.

My brain shuts off and I climb into the limo quickly as Hunter holds the door open. Sadie is quick to follow me and it takes Joe a few moments to enter the car. Once Hunter gets behind the wheel, the car carries us off. Joe inches closer, testing how far he can move until he’s on top of me. Tired, scared and upset, I turn into him, crying uncontrollably into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say after a long while.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson understand and so do I.”

“It wasn’t fair to them,” I begin.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, holding me tighter. “They understand. Trust me. They said to come back or call when you’re ready.”

“Good,” I sob into his sweater.

“They gave me the house key to give to you for when you’re ready to return,” he shares.

I nod.

Joe lifts my chin and stares into my swollen, red eyes. His lips meet mine and I eagerly accept them aside from the fact that I feel and look like a fool. We kiss for I don’t know how long as the car carries us along.


After some time passes, Joe asks, “So, where do you want to go?”

“What do you mean? Aren’t we back in New York?” I look out the window and can tell by the houses and streets that we’re still in New Jersey.

“I told Hunter to just drive around and to stay close by, just in case,” he shares. “Thought there might be a small chance you’d want to go back to see Mr. and Mrs. Nelson.”

“Thank you,” I say, smiling at his kindness.

We return to Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, giving them a proper farewell this time. I give them my cell number and email address and they reassure me that we’ll take this in baby steps, especially when it comes to handling things with my parents’ house.

As the limo pulls away from my childhood home, Joe comments, “I now understand your opposition celebrating your birthday.”

“Yeah,” I reply, lowering my head.

“It wasn’t your fault, Emma,” Joe assures.

I don’t say anything.

“What time were you born?” he searches.

“What? Why?” I inquire.

“Just curious to know which one of us is older,” he mentions.

“Would it be a challenge if I’m older?” I muse.

“Not at all,” he says with a grin, kissing the back of my hand.





Ninety Three


The next morning, I wake to Sadie and Joe surrounding me. The nightmare occurred again last night, but the emotional drain from the previous day made it easier to cope. Joe insists on me staying in bed, offering to take care of Sadie for the morning. When he comes back to the room, Joe joins me back in bed, allowing me to snuggle for as long as I need before facing the day.