Rage boils in the back of my throat, sending a flash of heat up my neck. The air around me feels hot and sticky. It’s getting hard to breathe. I rub my sternum, my heart pounding against my palm. My breaths come and go rapidly, some on top of the other.
Before I can think better of it, I am racing down the hall and down the stairwell to the parking lot. The summer air hits me like a heated blanket, enveloping around me and making everything worse. Suddenly, I’m heaving breaths, nearly gagging, in the tripod position.
“Ma’am, you alright?” a voice beckons me. I nod, powering through my breaths but not looking in their direction. This must be enough for them because they don’t say anything else as the sound of a sliding door opens and shuts.
“Breathe, breathe,” I command myself. My lungs burn, and my chest throbs. “Breathe, Emma.”
“I am outside,” I finally muster. “It feels hot and muggy.” I finally open my eyes and focus on the crack in the asphalt. “I see concrete.” The crack makes a Y shape, and I trace it with my gaze, as if it’s some weird metronome designed specifically for a time like this.
What feels like hours, but is really only minutes, pass before I muster up the strength to go back inside. When I round the corner of the nurses’ station, Steven is pacing the hall.
“Em? What’re you doing?” He rushes toward me, eyeing me frantically. “Are you alright?”
He reaches for me, but I step away, minding the space between us. Distance feels like the only thing keeping me together right now.
“Please don’t.” My voice comes out thin, vicious.
Confusion flickers in his eyes for a moment before they sharpen on his phone still clasped in my hands. “Emma, what’s going on?”
“You’re talking to Liam still.”
The muscle in his jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare as he releases a slow, steadying breath. “Em, can we talk about this later?”
“Why? I’m sure you won’t have time later.” Pain pulses through my temples as I shake my head. “There’s always something. The kids, your mom, work, a laundry list of things that are more important to you than being honest with your wife.”
“Emma.” His voice is low, almost pleading, as he steps closer to me. I try to step back but my foot hits the wall. There’s nowhere I can go.
“I didn’t lie to you,” he whispers, looking around to make sure no one hears us. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, and I didn’t want to stress you out.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t use compassion as your excuse to lie.”
“That’s not…ugh, Em. Did you even read the messages?” He’s annoyed now.
“That doesn’t matter, Steven,” I snip. “I asked you. No, I begged you to wait. It’s only been three weeks. You couldn’t survive just a few weeks without the guy? He’s gone on backpacking trips longer than that, and you didn’t speak to him then.”
My jaw and fists are clenched. I don’t even recognize myself. Maybe I’m not fighting fair. Liam is his best friend. But he’s the one who agreed not to speak to him.
“Why? Why did you agree not speaking to him was best if you were just planning to go behind my back and talk to him anyway?” My chest squeezes at the truth, stars now dotting the corners of my vision.
The nurses’ station near us starts to buzz with noise—monitors beeping, phones ringing, the scanning of badges and closing of doors. It’s all too loud. The white walls around us start to close in, and the air thickens. It’s all quicksand, pulling me under.
“Emma,” Steven reaches for me. “You need to breathe. Let’s go back—”
“Stop telling me to breathe!” It feels impossible now. My words are expending every ounce of energy I have, leaving no room for the task. “Just stop.”
“Hey.”
Tom’s calm voice cuts through the static building in my ears. He’s standing in the hall a few feet away, his expression soft but tired. His gaze moves between us—his son’s exasperated scowl and my bloodshot eyes—and he lets out a slow sigh.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
“Yes,” I grit out.
Steven doesn’t look at his dad. His gaze stays locked on me, jaw clenched. “Yeah,” he says flatly.
A nurse passes by, her shoes squeaking faintly against the floor. Tom waits until she’s gone before he speaks again. His attention settles on Steven, who still won’t face him.
“I don’t know what’s happening here,” Tom says calmly, “and I’m sorry you’re both going through a hard time.”
