Page 173 of Break Me

My body shifts against him without meaning to, not away, just loosening like something untying from the inside.

Another breath.

It catches.

Pauses.

My chest barely rises this time.

There’s a moment where I feel the difference, not fear, just the absence of what used to come easily. The space where it should be but isn’t.

His arms pull me closer, like he feels it too.

I don’t want to leave him. The thought is clear, stronger than anything else.

So I stay in his arms. In the place I’ve always fit.

As long as I can.

Until something shifts. Not around me. Inside me. The effort of holding on simply stops. My body doesn’t fight for the next breath. Doesn’t reach for it.

It simply lets it go.

And in that space I’m still here.

Still aware.

But lighter.

Untethered in a way that doesn’t hurt.

Sam’s voice is still there, broken now, closer and farther all at once. And I feel him, not just where he’s holding me, but everywhere.

The rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.

The steady rhythm I can’t follow anymore.

But he does.

He keeps breathing.

The water keeps moving.

The snow keeps falling.

The world doesn’t stop.

It continues.

And I let go.

Epilogue

Raven

At first, I think I'm dreaming.

Snow falls. The creek winds through the trees, its black water moving beneath a lacework of ice that’s gathered along the edges.