Page 167 of Breathe Again

“I think it holds some magic for new beginnings,” she murmured, tucking her hand under Rhys’ big hand that lay on the table between them.

I looked up, met her smiling watercolor eyes. “Thank you.”

Zale had turned toward me, his eyes crinkling. “Pain in my ass. I didn’t get that good of a reaction and I bought you a diamond!”

I barked out a laugh, still feeling emotional. “Try me again. I’ll do better.”

He laughed. Aloud. God, I loved to hear that man laugh.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied, still chuckling.

Rhys’ lips quirked and he cocked his head to the side, studying me. “So, a novel?”

Again, I struggled against the shame of thinking I could do anything like that, and again, I chose to focus otherwise. “Yes. I’ve always wanted to give it a shot. I’m ready, now. I think.”

“What kind of book do you want to write?” Rhys inquired.

I looked at Bex and we both laughed. Zale rubbed a hand over his face.

“One that you won’t be allowed to read!”

Rhys grinned at Zale. “I’m guessing the research portion is going to be a blast.”

Zale dropped his head and sighed, then looked at me sideways. I grinned at him, and he laughed again, reaching for his coffee. “Not going to be a hardship.”

Bex retorted, snorting. “As long as it’s hard.”

Rhys groaned. “Rebecca!”

Snickers and snorts from Bex and me ensued while Zale and Rhys pointedly ignored us and went back to their coffees.

I’m Okay

Mara

I was frustrated.

Figuring out the formatting was more difficult than drafting the damn book. That was not technically true, but I enjoyed the writing, and when I didn’t enjoy it, it was at least therapeutic.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

Saving...

Done.

I hovered over the publish button. Should I check it one more time? One last edit? No. I’d read it through in its entirety today, again, and saw nothing glaringly amiss. Sophie had edited it chapter by chapter, cheering me on the whole way, then read it through again after I finished with it. Bex read it after Sophie.

Enough. It was good enough.

Be brave, Mara!

I clicked publish. It was kind of anticlimactic.

Ninety thousand words in four weeks. The story poured out of me. Even if no one ever read it, it needed to be free.

I heard the front door open. I headed out to the kitchen, closing the sunroom door behind me.

“Hello, mommy!”

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