Just Breathe by Cammie McGovern

Author:Cammie McGovern
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-10-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

DAVID

THE SUIT JAMIE BRINGS is amazing. Of course the pants are too big and I have to wear a belt, but the shirt is beautiful. It’s the shirt of a man who knows materials and pays extra for nicer ones. Which makes him even more of a mystery. How did he get as sad as he did?

Pretend you know nothing, I keep telling myself. Let her tell you when she’s ready.

I don’t know if this is the right strategy. Some people might call it ignoring reality (which it is), but I prefer to think of it this way: I’m giving her her story back. I’m letting her tell me when she’s ready.

The only problem with this is the stupidly hard time I have hiding my emotions these days. My oxygen-starved brain is ready to cry at a TV commercial. I feel everything too much. How can I look at her and not feel for what she’s been through? I can’t, really. But that isn’t going to stop me. What I feel for her is completely different from what I feel for Sharon. With Sharon, everything is obligation and disappointed expectations. With Jamie, it’s different.

I want this night. I want to be with Jamie and tell her what I’ve been thinking and feeling since we went to the movies. How much I admire her. How she’s inspired me in ways that I never expected. I’ve spent a week composing the speech I started when I first asked her to help me leave the hospital. Tonight, I’m going to finish it.

But first things first: “You look beautiful,” I say, because she does. She’s wearing a simple, navy-blue dress that somehow manages to be both modest and sexy. “Where’d you find this?” I say, pinching the sleeve.

“Clearance rack at Marshalls. Do you want to guess how much it cost?” She’s smiling infectiously. I know from comments she’s made and where she lives that she and her mom don’t have much money, but even so, she’s smiling. “Guess high.”

“Seventy dollars?”

“Seven!” She’s beaming now. She spins around so the skirt flares out. “All this for the price of a sandwich!”

I don’t know why it took me so long to see what’s been obvious all along. Her strength. Her bravery. She told me once that I had to choose to live, and here she is, demonstrating how. With a clearance-rack dress and a big smile. I love that she has no idea how rare she is.

We’re standing outside the side exit of the hospital. It’s colder than I expected, which makes my teeth chatter for a second. That, or I’m nervous. She drapes the dark overcoat she’s brought over my shoulders (also her dad’s; also beautiful).

“Here. Hopefully this will help,” she says, rubbing my arms to help me warm up.

I can’t speak, I’m so grateful.

“Here’s our car,” she says. “Are you ready? Do you still want to go?”

I don’t know why I can’t move. I’m frozen for a moment, staring at her. I don’t feel sick or short of breath.

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