Cara Hunter is a self-made woman. Driven and fearless, she’s never lost a battle. In fact, the only time she’s fallen to her knees was, well . . . for him.
Emmett Brodie might be one of hockey’s hottest players, but the moment he sees Cara, he’s reduced to a single word: hers. And he’ll stop at nothing to change her last name.
With a love as all-encompassing and fierce as theirs, they become the ultimate power couple and the backbone of their family. But when they decide it’s time to have a baby, they discover their journey to conceiving will be anything but easy. As they face off with infertility, a battle that strips them to their bones, they’ll see just how unshakable their foundation really is.
They thought they could survive anything together, but how do you survive when you’re barely breathing?
I am an utter mess.
For having never experienced something as difficult and vulnerable as infertility, I felt every emotion, every setback, every intrusive thought Cara had about herself. And I felt every ounce of Emmett’s heartbreak as he struggled to help the woman he loves see herself the way he does—worthy, beautiful, and enough.
Cara comes across as brash at first, maybe even obnoxious, but it’s quickly clear that beneath the boldness is a woman who’s confident, fiery, and full of life. She’s blunt, entertaining, and unapologetically herself, and honestly, I’m jealous of her confidence. Then comes Emmett Brodie. The way Becka writes their first meeting is what I imagine it feels like to meet the one. His POV is pure, unfiltered romance—consuming, devoted, the kind of love that makes you melt because you can feel every ounce of it. Emmett balances Cara’s fire with tenderness, patience, and a quietly possessive energy that makes him utterly swoon-worthy.
“I was unstoppable before Emmett. With him, I’m indestructible.”
From the beginning, their banter is unmatched.
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Of course not. You already have a husband.”
That witty back-and-forth had me grinning within the first few pages. Emmett’s self-assured charm never veers into arrogance—it’s confidence wrapped in warmth. He matches Cara’s wit beat for beat, always smiling while she rolls her eyes, and together, they’re pure magic. Their love feels inevitable, like destiny, fate, and chemistry all colliding at once. Within weeks, they’re falling hard, discovering new pieces of themselves in the process. What they share is all-consuming and rare. He loves her exactly how she needs to be loved, and they both know how lucky they are.
“C’mon, Mrs. Brodie. The quicker we get through the formalities, the quicker we get to the fun stuff, like my ring on your finger and you in my bed for the rest of our lives.”
Cara is comfortable in her skin, and Emmett never asks her to tone it down. He lets her shine, proud to stand beside her. But behind closed doors, she loves giving that control to him. (“She loves to let him fuck it right out of her,” and honestly? That line alone deserves its own standing ovation.) Still, beneath her confidence is a heart that feels too deeply, one that breaks when she believes she’s failed the person who sees her most clearly.
Month after month, the grief of infertility chips away at her self-worth.
“Because this is breaking her. Crushing her. Fucking destroying her.”
She feels inadequate. Defective. Like a failure. Worthless.Tears build in those crushing blue eyes, and for the first time in my life, I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to fix his hurt, because I’m drowning in my own. I don’t know how to love him through this, because I don’t…I don’t know how to love myself through this.
This story isn’t just about love in the traditional sense; it’s about putting yourself first, loving yourself despite the doubts, and that the way you love yourself can look different at each stage in your life. Loving yourself doesn’t require perfection, but it does require you to show up for yourself every day, even on the hard days. Loving yourself means understanding that you can’t do it all alone. It means letting people in and letting them love on you the days it’s hard to love yourself. Becka Mack doesn’t romanticize the struggle; she humanizes it.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe with me. Because I can’t breathe without you.”
I’m a puddle of emotions. Broken, then slowly rebuilt piece by piece. This book is raw and real—beautifully composed and achingly honest. I can’t begin to understand the pain and emptiness infertility brings, but Becka Mack made me FEEL it. And that’s what the best authors do. The empathy, my tears, my sorrow—all worth it.
“Nothing in my life has prepared me for the way infertility would make me hate myself.”
It’s filthy. It’s funny. It’s heartbreaking.
Between Ollie and the handcuffs, the taco-eating contest, and the rollercoaster of banter in the very first chapter, Becka balances heavy emotion with moments of levity and joy.
And still—she doesn’t shy away from the hard things. The fertility struggles, the trauma, the callousness Cara faces from doctors—it all cuts deep. And the way Emmett minimizes his own pain? That shattered me.
There were chapters that made me laugh out loud and others that made me cry so hard I had to walk away. But I kept coming back because I knew Becka would put me back together again.
The tea party scene? Absolute perfection.
Carter comforting Cara? Heart-melting.
Emmett saying “I love you”? Actual chills.
“I don’t know infertility, Care, but I do know grief. And I can promise you there is another side. There is a life to be built, a future that has the possibility to be just as beautiful as the one you’d hoped for. It doesn’t have to be the end. There is never an end where love exists.”
You can feel how personal this book is to Becka Mack. The kind of pain she captures—the helplessness laced with hope—only works when it’s written from a place of truth.
Breathe With Me isn’t just a love story—it’s a heartbeat in book form. Becka Mack strips love, loss, and healing down to their barest truths, reminding us that real strength isn’t found in perfection, but in persistence. It’s in the quiet moments of showing up, the shaky breaths we take when it all feels too heavy, and the grace we offer ourselves and those we love. This story broke me open and stitched me back together, reminding me that love—raw, imperfect, and unwavering—isn’t about surviving the easy parts. It’s about learning how to keep breathing through the hard ones.