Breathe With Me (Playing For Keeps #5)

by Becka Mack

“You wanna be a mom one day?” he asks as he tries—and fails—to fix my dress, the mess of hair on my head, and I think it’s wild he’s asking me this when he still hasn’t asked my first name. “One day,” I manage, gasping as I stumble, legs officially giving up the fight. Emmett catches me around the waist, pressing his whispered words to my mouth. That’ll be the second-best day of my life, right after the day I make you my wife.”

The tray of s’mores is shoved under my nose. My gaze rises, meeting Carter’s. He smiles. “Made you a special one.” He points to a giant, goopy mess. “Cookie, marshmallow, icing, marshmallow, cookie. I call it the Cara Brodie Double-Decker Special.” Stupid. So fucking stupid. Cara Brodie does not cry. Okay, I cry, but rarely. And I am not going to cry over a stupid fucking double-decker Oreo s’more. I’m just not. * * * I cried over a double-decker Oreo s’more. Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.

“If I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, I’m fucking crazy about you, firefly.” “It’s been six days,” I croak. “I know. And I know that scares you. Scares me too, because I know this feeling is only gonna grow. Keeps me up at night, just staring at you, because suddenly it feels like my world is centered around a single person, and I am terrified that without you … everything collapses.” Truthfully, I’ve been fed a lot of lines before, ones that sound just like this. But with Emmett…there isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t believe him. Even if it’s scary. “I don’t want you to go away,” I admit, burying the fear in his neck when he loosens his grip on my wrists, letting me cling to him. “I like having you here, and I can’t fight off the girls when you’re somewhere else.” “Baby, you don’t need to fight off anyone.” “But I can. I can take them, all of them. At the same time. I’ll do it, I swear.”

“No way.” Carter shakes his head. “There ain’t no way.” “Excuse me? I broke a record the second year. Twelve tacos in four minutes and thirty-six seconds, so watch your mouth.” “Care,” Emmett whispers, and the awestruck look on his face is truly flattering. “That’s, like…” “Almost three tacos a minute,” Adam whispers. “Impossible,” Garrett murmurs. “It’s honestly not that hard,” I tell them. “You just have to open your throat and let them slide down.” Emmett whimpers. Garrett and Adam blush. And Carter? Carter’s already loading two plates up, counting out twelve tacos each. “No. Absolutely not.” I wave my hands in front of my face when he pushes a plate in front of me. “I’m twenty-four. I’m not engaging in a taco-eating contest with you just to prove that I can do it.” * * * I engaged in a taco-eating contest with Carter Beckett just to prove that I could do it. Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.

“You keep saying ‘sexual activities,’ but I wanna know specifically if we can have sex. Like, penis-in-vagina sex.” I shut my eyes. “Penis in vagina. What are you, ten?” “Well, she’s dancing around the question! How about I be really clear? Nurse Cockbl—uh, Sheila, when we go down to the parking lot after this, can I put my wife in the backseat and fuck her until you hear her scream my name all the way up here?” Sheila’s cheeks burn bright red. “Uh, well, I think, um … sex in public places is an offense, I’m pretty sure.” “Right. Okay. Well, then, let’s say I drive her all the way home because I can definitely wait that long,”—he winks at me, mouthing backseat, baby—“get her upstairs, woo her with some sweet, soft kisses, some slow foreplay before we round third base …” He braces his hands out in front of him, brows hiked, like he’s preparing himself for the answer. “Can I slide home and blow my load in my wife today?” Sheila’s wide eyes come to me. For what, I don’t know. Help? She’s not going to get it from me. I’m so horny, I contemplated masturbating with a cucumber yesterday when I was prepping a salad for dinner. It was the only thing in the house comparable to Sir Tom, the Pussy Slayer. That’s Emmett’s cock, in case that wasn’t clear.

“Well, you know what I always say. A good man can’t be stolen. He knows who his heart belongs to, and no amount of promises of backflips on his cock will have him straying.” Emmett snickers against my lips. “Nobody backflips on my cock but you, baby.” “Just as well,” my grandma says on a sigh. “I’d break a hip. Can’t get down and dirty the way your granddad and I used to back in the day, Cara.

he reaches above me, scrawling a message across the mirror. I’d marry you over and over again, every day for the rest of my life. “Watch over my wife until I’ve got her in my arms again.” “Oh, Cara,” she murmurs as he disappears. “That man is head over heels for you. It’s rare in life that you find someone so in tune with you, who loves you exactly the way you need to be loved. And you’ve found it.” “I’m one of the lucky ones.”

a photo of Carter appears, way more provocative than any picture of a thirty-year-old man needs to be while he’s eating a cookie in bed. World’s sexiest DILF with the world’s sexiest cookie. Just one of many ideas I have for new flavors. @oreo hit me up for more #oreo #sponsorme #loveme #chooseme #considerme

“Not the vest!” Jaxon screeches as the sparrow swoops, beak clacking at him. “Gran made this for me with her nimble angel fingers! It’s one of a kind!” Lennon claps a hand to her face. “Not the nimble angel fingers.”

Garrett grabs Jennie against his chest. “I think I have a concussion. A blow job might help.”

“Are you singing ‘Our Song’?” I ask, arms crossed, brow arched as he ambles toward me. “Nobody slaps like Taylor Swift circa 2006.”

I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix his hurt, because I’m drowning in my own. I don’t know how to love him through this, because I don’t … I don’t know how to love myself through this. I’ve never not known how to love myself.

do know grief. And I can promise you, there is another side. There is a life to be built, a future that has the possibility to be just as beautiful as the one you’d hoped for. It doesn’t have to be the end. There is never an end where love exists.”

“There is never an end where love exists. Life will be different, whether or not you go on to be parents in one way or another, because this happened. The clouds will always be there, and there will be days when the rain comes and it feels like it’ll never end. And then the sun will come out again, and you’ll remember that there’s room for both of those things; the pain that reminds you of someone or something that should be there, and the beauty of a life built, a path you forged, because you were brave when you didn’t want to be. Because you can do hard things, Cara. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you shouldn’t have to. All that hurt, those clouds, and those rainy days? We live with them because that love, the love that drove our lives to change, it never ceases to exist.”

“You deserve a future filled with love. You’ve got so much of it to give, and you give it so freely. There are some things you can’t control, hard as you try, and there are the things you can choose. Emmett is going to spend the rest of his days loving you, and you’re going to spend yours loving him. Choose to do it together. Love makes life worth living, even in the face of everything we lose along the way.”

“Breathe, baby. Breathe with me. Because I can’t breathe without you.”

Cara is different, like she was yesterday, and the day before that. Like she’ll be tomorrow, and every day after that. Because she’s versatile, ever-changing, releasing what no longer serves her, and molding what does into something that fits her. I will love every version of her, always. Her soul will always be hers, and it’ll always be tied to mine. I’m sure of it.

“I want us to have a baby, Cara. But if you’re my one good thing—if this love is the only precious thing I get in this lifetime—that will always, always be enough for me. Do you understand? You are enough for me, and I will spend my days treasuring this immaculate gift I’ve been given.”

“No mountain is too high.” “For you, Emmett? For you, I’d climb every mountain.” She brings my hand to her chest, pressing my palm over her heart, where it beats fast and hard. “For myself too. I want to fight for myself.” “I’ll fight for you on the days you’re too tired to do it yourself.” “I know you will, and I love you for it.” Her lips warm my palm. “It’s just not fair, you know?”

“When I said I liked it rough, I was talking about sex, not life.”

“Every day I wish I could take your pain, help you hold it, just so that you’d feel like you had someone who understood. So you didn’t feel alone.

Love yourself enough to chase it. Love yourself enough to know that the only person who determines your worth is you. Love yourself enough, value yourself so much, that giving up? It’s no longer an option. Sometimes the only voice cheering you on is your own, so it should always be the loudest.”

Maybe happiness is understanding I’ll never be the same person I was before, thanking her for everything she did for me, saying goodbye, and welcoming the woman I was always meant to be.

“This! You tell me I can’t go on this!” He stomps a foot, as any sane, adult man would do in this scenario. “If somebody doesn’t let me on that bouncy castle, I swear to God⁠—” “I’m the one who suggested the ball pit!” Garrett shouts, arms wide. “I should get to go in there!”

“If you and Cara were the only stars in my sky, that would be enough for me.”

And if I could give him one thing, just one, it would be loving him just right. Because when done right, oh, man, love is such a powerful, crazy thing. When someone loves you right, they show you how to love yourself. They show you how to let other people love you, how to value yourself enough that you accept nothing less. The just right kind of love has the power to erase all the negative thoughts one by one, the labels we’ve slowly given meaning to. There’s no room for those thoughts to hold any real weight, because the just right kind of love whispers louder, until it's impossible to ignore.

I’ve learned that loving myself looks different at every stage. It means giving myself grace, seeing my worth at my best, and finding it at my worst, too. It means reminding myself that I’m enough. That I was enough yesterday, am enough today, and will be enough tomorrow, no matter what happens. I’ve learned that loving myself doesn’t require perfection, but it does require me to show up for myself every damn day, and celebrate all my efforts, no matter the outcome. Loving myself means understanding that I can’t do it alone. It means asking for help, letting people in, letting them love me extra on the days the love escapes me.

Garrett scuffs at the gym floor, huffing. “He was this close to settling on Taylor Swift eras before your little suggestion.” He throws his arms wide. “I had my Fearless outfit picked out already!” Jaxon shoves him. “I was gonna be the Fearless era!” Garrett shoves him back. “No, I was!” Ireland stomps her foot, fists balled at her side. “No, me!” She leans toward me, hand in front of her mouth as if that’ll hide her words. It doesn’t; she hasn’t figured out whispering yet. “I don’t know what we yellin’ ’bout.”

And when I open my eyes, the storm wanes. The rain slows to a patter until all that’s left of it is what clings to the salty air. The clouds part, and the sunshine reflects off those lingering droplets, splashing a rainbow across the sky as the waves die down, until they’re nothing but the gentle lap of the water kissing my toes. It feels like putting one foot in front of the other, slow but certain, knowing that I am strong enough to survive anything this life lays at my feet, because I have survived what was meant to break me beyond repair. It feels like water surrounding me in a warm embrace as I step deeper. It feels like facing my fears as I dive headfirst into the water. And when I emerge, taking that first breath, so deep it revitalizes every inch of me, it feels like healing. It feels like loving myself enough to choose healing.

there are only three things I am certain of. First, that healing begins with forgiving myself. For the love I denied myself, for the worth I tossed away, for not showing up for myself on the days I needed myself most. Second, that I would do it all over again if it meant ending up exactly where I am right now. And finally, that my worth has never, not once, and no matter how much I believed it to be, been tied to my ability to reproduce. My body is a temple. My heart is good and full. My brain is powerful and magnificent. And me? I am fierce. Capable. Worthy. I’m fucking priceless.

“I want you to know that watching you become a mother has been the single most beautiful thing I’ve witnessed in this lifetime. And because I am blessed to share a lifetime with you, I have witnessed many, many beautiful things.”

the truth is, friends like these, this family we’ve found, built from the ground up, fought for every step of the way … they’ll save you every damn time. And that? That is something I will always cling to. I was unstoppable before them. With them, I’m indestructible.