Reason to Breathe

“Okay,” I said slowly. “That’s great, right?”

“It was really great,” she glowed.

“How did it happen?” I asked, trying not to think of our night at the movies and how they hit it off, because then I’d have to think about that night with Evan – and how I’d never get it back.

“I called to return his flashlight. We started talking. Then he called me later that night, and we talked some more. He asked me out and I said yes.”

“Leaving out the details?” I noticed. A vague account of dates wasn’t Sara’s style.

“I didn’t know if it was going to be weird for you since he’s Evan’s brother. But I had to tell you, or else I was going to burst. I can leave out the other stuff if you’d rather not hear it.”

“No, I want to hear everything,” I replied honestly.

Sara went on to talk about their dinner date in Boston and another in New York. Her eyes sparkled as she gushed about her time with Jared. As much as I was happy for her, this strange hollow sensation filled my stomach. Was I jealous? I pushed away the selfish emotion and smiled.

“And the second night, he kissed me. It was the most amazing kiss ever. I thought I was going to fall over.” Sara beamed as the memory danced across her eyes.

“What are you going to do now? I mean, he’s going back to New York, right?”

“Yeah, he left this morning,” she sighed. “It was the best time I’ve ever had, but he goes to college in New York.” She shrugged, smiling contently.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Honestly, I didn’t expect anything else. I knew when I went out with him that that was probably going to be it.”

“Then why’d you do it?” I questioned in confusion.

“Why not?!” she answered enthusiastically. “I’d rather have these incredible memories of the two nights I spent with him, knowing that I probably won’t go out with him again, than not to have had them at all.”

“Huh,” I pondered, intrigued by Sara’s perception. Her words sat with me long after she left that afternoon.

I continued thinking about what she said when I lay in bed that night. Was it better to get as much out of the moment as possible, knowing it could slip out from under you in a second? Was the actual experience better than the inevitable conclusion? I guess I had to decide if the conclusion was a broken heart, or a broken bone, in order to weigh the risk.

I didn’t sleep well that night. My dreams swirled together in an incoherent jumble of images. I’m certain my restlessness was provoked by the conversation with Sara. Then again, I knew George was picking me up in the morning.

George and I sat in silence for the first part of the car ride – I stared out the window and he kept his eyes glued to the road.

“It would be best if you weren’t around Carol very much,” he finally said. His voice drew my attention. I wasn’t surprised he refused to look over at me. “She’s been under a lot of stress, and the new medication she’s on is affecting her moods. You can stay in your room and eat after we do, like you did before, but I’ll take care of the dishes. You just worry about getting your Saturday chores done while she’s out shopping.

“I spoke with the McKinley’s. They’re willing to help us out by letting you spend Saturday’s there, after you do your chores, and any Friday nights when you have a basketball game. They’re sympathetic to Carol’s stress and are very thoughtful to have offered. So please don’t make this any more difficult. Sunday’s you can spend at the library, like you have been. Emma, I don’t think I have to remind you that what happens in our house, stays in our house.”

I didn’t react to his subtle threat. He had just taken away the remnants of the only family I had – regardless of how dysfunctional. I knew I wouldn’t be able to spend time with the kids, and he’d speak to me even less now than he did before – it sunk in that I was truly alone.

My world was delicately balanced, but the scales never hung even. When something improved, something else had to crumble. Accepting this would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to learn, and even when I came to know it as true, it still crushed me.

26. Broken

“You bitch,” Haley Spencer sneered from beside my locker. “What did you say to him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I knew she was obviously talking about Evan, but I had no idea what was going on.

“You must have said something to him to make him to leave,” she insisted.

I heard her words, but I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. I stared back, stunned.

“He left!” Haley exclaimed. “He moved back to San Francisco, and I know it was because of you.” Before I could respond, she stormed away.

I stood in her wake, unable to move. My books slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. Was she telling the truth?

“Here you go,” a voice said, handing me my books.

“Thank you,” I murmured, absently taking them without looking at the face.

There’s no way she could be telling the truth. He had to be here. He just wasn’t in school today. That was evident by his absent seat in English class. He couldn’t have moved.

“Em, I just heard,” Sara said from behind me. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s true?” I asked, turning to meet her sympathetic eyes.

“Yeah, I heard it from one of the guys on the basketball team.”

Sara stood in front of her locker, contemplating my expression. She waited for me to react. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to believe it. How could he be gone?

Then something broke. Sara saw it the second it happened and rushed alongside me, guiding me to the girls’ bathroom. The halls were relatively empty since everyone had already gone to class, so there weren’t many witnesses to the dramatic scene.

The pain crushed my heart. I sank to the floor, sliding my back down the cool tile wall. I didn’t cry, and my eyes didn’t fill with tears, although my insides felt like they’d been shred. I stared straight ahead, unable to focus on the wall across from me. We sat in silence for a time. I heard Sara breathing next to me, quietly witnessing my slow acceptance of the truth.

“He’s really gone?” The words were caught in my throat, and I breathed them out in the faintest whisper.

Sara remained by my side without a word, holding my hand. The truth sank in deeper and my heart released an aching sob. I collapsed onto Sara’s lap and gave in to its grief. My chest heaved as I gasped for air. Sara stroked my hair to sooth me while I cried into my folded arms.

“He can’t be gone,” I wept, wishing that saying it out loud, would make it true. I released another cry of pain.

Exhausted and raw, I laid my head still against her legs while the tears dried upon my face. My eyes stung from the tears, and my throat ached from the cries. My mind swirled with thoughts of why he left and questions of how he could have done it so suddenly. The more I thought about it, the more the pain turned to anger.

“I can’t believe he left without saying anything.” I pushed myself up to sit, the tension drawing back my shoulders. “He couldn’t even say good bye? Who does that?”

My rapid succession of emotions left Sara speechless, unable to find the words to answer. I stood up and began pacing, clenching my fists as I fumed at the thought of his selfish escape.

“Did the thought of being around me infuriate him so much that he couldn’t even return to school? He had to run away to the other side of the country just to avoid me?! He’s the one who stopped talking to me! Was I not supposed to get over him? Did he really want me to continue waiting for him to forgive me for something I didn’t do? I’m sorry if he didn’t like seeing me with someone else – but to pick up and move because of it!”

I grunted in frustration. My mind raced while I continued my pacing, unable to release my closed fists. I huffed and lost the words to continue my rambling rage. I breathed in, considering his actions with my heart strangled in my chest. The ire slowly subsided into a begrudged acceptance.

“Fine, if that’s how he felt, then he should’ve gone. He obviously couldn’t stand to look at me, so why should I care if he left?! Now I don’t have to worry about him yelling at me, or making me feel guilty for my decisions. I don’t care if I ever see him again.”

This was almost convincing, but my heart stuttered in panic at the thought of not seeing his face in the halls.

“Do you really believe that?” Sara asked tentatively. I blinked at her, recognizing that she was in the room. “He didn’t hate you, Emma.”

“You don’t know that, Sara,” I shot back. “I hurt him. I couldn’t trust him enough to let him in. Then I accused him of things he didn’t do. To top it all off, I shoved it in his face by kissing another guy right in front of him. Of course he hates me, and maybe he should. He couldn’t even be around me anymore. He absolutely hates me.”

Sara remained silent as I convinced myself of this. The words stung, and the anger settled. It was no longer directed at Evan but at myself. I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. The pain and anger flickered in my eyes as I realized that it all circled back to me. Now I was left holding the pieces of my heart, crushed by my own hands.

I shook my head in disgust at the image in the glass. I stared at the dark eyes, my jaw tightening, allowing the anger and revulsion to grow. I accepted the blame for forcing him away. He had every right to hate me, just as I hated myself at that moment. My stomach turned to ice, and I looked away from the accusing eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the pain deep down, but I let the guilt and self-loathing fester as a punishing reminder. I took another quick breath before facing Sara. She remained a silent witness, concern etched in her eyes. I was exhausted by the gut wrenching turmoil and couldn’t feel anything anymore.

“I pushed him away, so he left,” I confessed quietly, submitting to the final truth. “I don’t have anyone to blame but myself – and now he’s gone.” I shrugged my shoulders dismissively. Sadness settled in Sara’s eyes.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’m okay.”

“No you’re not,” she whispered with a small shake of her head. After a brief silence, she said, “I think this period’s about over. Are you going to your next class?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “Why not?”

We walked back to our lockers. My locker stood open, with my books casually tossed in the bottom. I grabbed what I needed as the bell rang.

“I’ll see you back here before lunch?” Sara confirmed quietly, the worry still heavy in her eyes. I nodded.

I lingered at my locker for a second after Sara headed to class. I knew what was waiting for me, and as much as I tried to convince myself I was ready, I knew better. Smothered by anxiety, I couldn’t loosen the tightness in my chest as I walked to Anatomy.