Breathe with Me (With Me in Seattle, #7)

“Mom.” I take a deep breath to calm my temper. “I need to fix this with her. She’s not okay.” I remember the feel of her in my arms, the trembling, the absolute despair rolling off her in waves. “She’s not trying to be dramatic. Meredith isn’t like that. She’s hurting.”


Luke takes the papers from my hand and rattles his keys in his hand. “You’re not driving anywhere, Mark. Nat and I will take care of these and Sam will get you settled at home.” He points outside and wraps his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Why don’t you come with us, Mom?”

She continues to watch me and finally stands on tip-toe to kiss my cheek.

“We’ll meet you at your house,” Mom says.

“Why won’t you all listen to me? I need to see Meredith!”

“Do you honestly think you’re in any shape to charm her right now?” Sam asks with a roll of the eyes. “She’ll still be around tomorrow when you’re not all drugged up.”

I glare at her, but she’s right. My eyes are heavy and my body is in that in-between place of numb and pain. Every step out to Sam’s car is agony and effort, making me embarrassingly tired.

By the time we make it back to my house, all I want to do is sleep. “Please call her,” I say to Sam as she helps me stumble my way up to my bedroom. “Just call her and make sure she’s okay.”

“I will,” Sam promises and helps me into the bed, not bothering to make me change out of the green scrubs the hospital gave me. I roll onto the mattress and immediately slip into a drug-induced sleep.

***

Fuck me, I’m sore. I wince as I sit up and try to stretch my muscles. I ache, which shouldn’t surprise me since I’ve refused to take the pain meds over the past six hours so I can drive to Meredith’s this afternoon. I rise from the bed and take care of business, then curl my lip in disgust when I see that I’m still covered in bloody smears. I crashed before I even had a chance to take a shower.

First thing’s first. I need coffee.

As I descend the stairs, I hear voices in my kitchen.

“I tried to call her three times last night and once more this morning and she wouldn’t answer,” Sam says quietly, sipping coffee as I walk into the room. She’s talking with Jax who also looks exhausted and worried.

“How are you feeling?” Jax asks.

“Like I got hit by a fucking car,” I reply and pour myself some coffee. “But it doesn’t matter. Talk to me about Meredith. Is she okay?”

Jax winces and shakes his head.

“No. She won’t calm down. You’re okay, but it’s like a dam has burst and I can’t get her to calm down. It’s freaking me out.” He rubs his hand over his face. “She cried for a long time, then slept for a few hours. When she woke up she went back to crying. Any time I go in her room, she makes me leave.”

“Jesus,” I whisper, staring down into the coffee in my mug. “I know she’s still grieving for her mom, and this had to bring up bad memories for her,” I mutter.

“It’s just typical for her though,” Jax adds, making both Sam and I frown in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Sam says.

“Meredith always pushes people away. She always has, for as long as I’ve known her. She couldn’t shake me because I sunk my claws into her and didn’t let go, but even that scares her sometimes. She’s afraid of losing people she loves. So, the ones who fight back and stay are the ones she figures are around for the long-haul.”

“Well I’m clearly going to fight back,” I reply. “She’s not shaking me off like this.”

“Do you feel well enough to drive or do you need a lift?” Jax asks.

“You really should shower first,” Sam says. “You look horrible.”

“I’m fine, and I’ll shower at Meredith’s.” I take a long swig of cooling coffee and grab my keys. “Will you be by later?” I ask Jax.

“Yeah. I’m going to go buy some juice and soup. I know it’s not the flu, but I don’t know what else to fucking do. She won’t let me touch her. Here, you’ll need a key.”

I nod. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”

I’m moving slower than I usually do, which pisses me off because right now all I can think of is getting to Mer. The drive is quick, and before I know it, I’m at her place.

I walk swiftly to her room and pause by her door, listening to her soft sobs inside. Silently, I open her door and when I see her curled up on her bed, her hand over her head, crying in despair, my stomach falls to my knees.

I crawl onto her bed and pull her into my arms. “Meredith, everything is okay.”

She gasps, surprised to see me, and stops crying long enough to take me in, but then starts to cry again.

“Stop. I can’t be with you.” She’s not fighting me, not trying to get out of my embrace.

“Yes, you can.”

“Mark, I’m going to lose you too, and I can’t stand the thought of it.” She’s shivering. Instead of trying to talk some sense into her, I simply hold her. Kiss her hair, caress her shoulder and back, rubbing in big, soothing circles. We lie together for a long time, until she finally looks at me. Her eyes are still leaking, but she’s not trembling any longer.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too.” She swallows hard and brushes her cheeks dry with the back of her hand. “You know what happened the day my dad and Tiff died.”

“Yes, you’ve told me the story, baby.”

She nods. “When Luke said there’d been an accident, and we got in the car, I was right back in that place, as if I was thirteen years old again, and the pain was bright and brand new.”

I brush my knuckles down her cheeks, my heart breaking for her.

“I understand that you’re okay. My brain computes it, Mark. You weren’t hurt badly, thank God, and you’ll heal quickly and everything will go back to normal.”

I nod, watching her as she struggles with her heart.

“But I can’t help the way my heart feels.”

“How does it feel?”

“Panicked. Terrified. God, I’m so scared. I didn’t know that your job is dangerous. It never occurred to me.”