Breathe Again by Rachel Brookes Page A

small piece of paper had been burning a hole in my wallet. That small piece of paper held the phone number of my father, the man who had helped create me but who had also made me the shell of a man I was today.
    “Tate, where has your mind taken you?” Sav’s soft voice ripped me from my thoughts. I blinked and offered her the best smile I could muster, but I knew my face was showing my deepest fears.
    Would I ever feel like I wasn’t going to fuck up? What should have been the happiest moment of my life was turning to shit because of a prick of a man I hadn’t seen for twenty-three years. Sav’s thumb swept over my knuckles before she lifted my hand to her mouth and lightly kissed each knuckle. A simple gesture to some, but to me it was a gesture of faith.
    “You aren’t him.”
    My eyes moved away from Sav’s as my emotions bubbled inside of me. I never wanted her to ever look at me as anything but strong and protective. I had already let my defenses down once in New York and I needed to keep them in check here.
    “You aren’t him, Tate,” Sav repeated, her voice laced with promise and reassurance. Her tiny hands gripped at my forearm, and with a little hesitation, I allowed my eyes to find hers. There was no fear or agreement looking back at me. Her eyes spoke to me with hope, understanding, and most importantly, a look of us. She had a faith in me I’d never known could exist, and that scared me the most. If she believed in me, then that meant I had to believe in myself, right?
    Nodding slowly, I stepped towards her and wrapped my arms around her body. The body that was my comfort.
    “Savannah, it’s good to see you. Let’s get this show on the road and see this little one.”
    I stepped away from Sav as, who I assumed was, Doctor Johnson walked into the room holding a bright blue file and a smile on his face. He was a middle-aged man with a head full of grey hair, deep laugh lines around his eyes, and a bushy white beard. If I’d believed in Santa, I would think he was Sav’s doctor.
    After placing the file on his desk, Doctor Johnson directed at me, “You must be the father?” Before he shook my hand confidently. I simply nodded, suddenly mute, and matched his grip. “Okay, Sav. If you want to hop up on the bed and lift your shirt over your stomach, we will get started.”
    I followed Sav across the room like a puppy dog and stopped just short of the bed. Sav turned towards me, firing a heartwarming smile and handed me her bag. My nerves were running rampant, and my eyes jumped from Sav’s gorgeous greens to the bag she had placed in my hands. It was almost like my brain had dissolved to mush and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.
    “Put my bag on the table and then come and hold my hand while we see our baby.”
    The doctor squeezed the gel onto Sav’s stomach, causing her body to jump slightly from the bed at the cold sensation. Her free arm wrapped around my waist and her hand rested on the small of my back, her fingertips lifting the edge of my shirt and sitting so softly on my bare skin like she was locking me in.
    My hand tightened on the hand I was gripping for dear life the moment the doctor swirled the weird-looking stick on her tan stomach. The silence of the room was deafening, but then out of the darkness on the small television screen in front of us came the image both Sav and I were waiting for.
    My eyes widened and my throat suddenly felt dry as he or she appeared. I was looking at absolute perfection, and at that moment, it was like the world was giving me a giant slap in the face, everything became real.
    I realized in that moment what it felt like to be living entirely for another human being, what it felt like to love another human being more than the air I breathed, what it felt like to be so protective and devoted to a person that wasn’t even here. My eyes burned into the screen, overwhelmed with the emotion of the miracle I was witnessing. I wasn’t one to