Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(37)

A few moments later, Joe guides my body over the bed and covers me with a sheet. He conforms his torso to mine, spooning me as Sadie slumps her body over us. I wait patiently for Joe to fall asleep — this is the only way I’ll be able to leave without his opposition.

The compulsion to urinate forces me to get up — I must have fallen asleep. I change in the bathroom and grab my things, leaving without a word. Sadie gradually follows me with mild coaxing and in no time we are homeward bound.





Sixty Three


The next morning, I take a cab with Sadie to head to Maggie’s unannounced. Arnold cordially greets me and informs me that Maggie is feeling better as he leads me to the back patio. My heart steadies with relief when I see her eating. I hear Henry off in the distance on the phone as I approach Maggie.

“Hey you!” A small smile flickers across her face.

“Hey,” I eek out, curling my mouth to the left.

Maggie reaches for me, directing me to join her.

We sit quietly for a long while as we soak up the morning sun that is cascading over our legs. Nǎinai and M?qīn come from inside the house a few minutes later with some tea and food. They both kiss and hug me, longer than usual.

“Jared said you haven’t spoken with him since Thursday,” Maggie breeches the uncomfortable subject.

Lowering my head, I offer, “I haven’t talked to anyone.”

“You okay?” she checks.

“Yeah . . .” I unconvincingly lie.

“I’m sorry to put you . . . .”

“Don’t be,” I cut her off. “I’m glad you called me.”

“I know, but . . . .” Maggie's sighs. “I know this is hard for you too.”

“I’ll be fine,” I fib.

The sight of her does help a little and the more I start to see my old friend again, I know I’ll get better.

“Henry said your business trip got cancelled. I’m sorry,” she changes the subject.

“It’s fine. Joe rescheduled it for next week. We leave Wednesday,” I mention gently. “You’re more important.”

“I know,” she hesitantly agrees. “But . . . .”

“But nothing,” I sternly counter. “You’re family.”

I didn’t realize it until I did some research online that Maggie could have had a complication with the miscarriage — the kind that could have caused her own death. Regret for leaving and being selfish for my own thoughts and feelings compelled me to come back to Maggie today. I needed her to know that I’m here.

There’s a lingering sadness in Maggie’s eyes, but I can honestly say that I see significant improvement in her mood from when I saw her last week. I wonder if seeing me is helping in some way — dispelling her thoughts about how much this event has affected me.

“I want updates while you’re there,” she commands with a sweet smile.

“Of course,” I happily consent. “Do you think you’ll be up for some video conferencing or interviews a week later?”

I’m hoping that getting Maggie’s attention onto a new topic might help facilitate her recovery — and perhaps mine.

With a genuine grin, Maggie states, “Definitely.”

“Good. I need to see how the potential staff respond and interact with you before we make our final decisions of hiring,” I express, keeping our attention on positive subjects.

“Can’t wait,” she says. “So, what’s new with you?”

“What do you mean?” I check.

“I don’t know,” she says with a smile, shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t know if anything else has come up since the last time we talked.”

“Nope,” I say. “Nothing new.”

Silence falls upon us as we relax in the sun for a while.

“Maggie?” I ask, getting the gumption to breech another topic that weighs heavily on my mind.

“Yeah, Emma?” she returns.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize.

“For what?” she inquires, obviously not knowing where I’m going with this.

“For leaving you . . .” I begin, hanging my head in shame a bit. “I shouldn’t have left you . . . .”

“Don’t be silly,” she challenges, cutting me off. “I know it wasn’t easy. How could I be mad? You came when I needed you . . . there was no one else who I thought to call who could help me the most . . . with you, I knew everything would be fine.”

I squeeze her tight, allowing a few tears to fall.

“I knew you’d need your own time,” she shares. “You always have in the past when things became intense like this.”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?” she directs.

“Okay,” I agree.

“I mean it,” Maggie insists.

I nod.

“I love you,” she adds.

“Love you,” I reply, holding her tighter.

We stay together for the rest of the day, talking now and then, including our family in conversation that comes up or joining theirs. Henry seems a little better too, but he has his moments, just like Maggie, when the pain creeps back in from time to time. He seeks comfort from me a few times — or, is he looking to comfort me? I’m not sure, but I don’t mind either way. I like to think we’re comforting each other.