Heart Breaths

by Hendin, KK

  “I love her,” I said. “There was nothing I wanted to do more than spend time with her.”

  Except sit here like this with you, I admitted to myself. Minus the stupid ex-girlfriend, who was hovering over us like an impending tornado.

  “Thank you,” he repeated, squeezing me against him. Leaning, I rested my head against him as he started to speak again.

  Chapter · Seventeen

  “How much did Sam tell you about Diane?” he asked.

  “A little,” I admitted. “I overheard her on the phone, too. So enough to know she doesn’t deserve you or Noie.”

  “She doesn’t deserve Noie,” he said, his voice fierce. “She doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Noelle.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” I agreed, starting to rub circles again. He was so tense. “She doesn’t.”

  “I met her when I came to work here one summer a few years ago,” he said. “I was working for a construction company, building a beach house the next town over. Diane was working nearby, at one of the stores. She used to come over by the construction site with her friends, to flirt with the workers. We went out for a little bit—nothing too serious. And then she called me one day near the end of the summer, hysterical. She was pregnant. A condom broke. I proposed two days later, and she agreed to marry me. I had been planning on going back to college, I only had a year left, but she was pregnant and didn’t want to move. I kept my job, and found an apartment. Diane didn’t want to get married pregnant, so we were going to wait until the baby was born.”

  He swallowed and I kept rubbing circles, feeling him tense up again. “I used to go with her to her doctor’s appointments. One day I came home, and found her gone. There was a note on the calendar that said she had a doctor’s appointment. So I went to the doctor, and found her about to have an abortion.” He shuddered at the memory. “She almost killed Noie. Almost murdered my daughter. God, I wanted to kill her that day in the doctor’s office. She didn’t give a shit about the baby. Couldn’t care less about her. It was ugly, the fight we had after I dragged her out of the doctor’s office. She never planned on keeping the baby—at first she was going to lie to me about being pregnant, but then once she actually got pregnant, she didn’t need to. She thought I was loaded, and decided I’d make her a good sugar daddy.” His voice was bitter.

  “But then she realized that not only was I not as rich as she thought, but that I actually wanted the kid. She got bored, and decided she wanted to move on. She didn’t want to be pregnant—didn’t want to have any kids, ever, and didn’t want to have mine. We came to an agreement—she would have Noie, and I would pay her. She was five and a half months pregnant—how the doctor was going to let her abort, I didn’t know. Noie ended up being premature—she was born after eight months. Five weeks later, I walked in on Diane having sex with one of the other construction guys in my bedroom. Two days later, she was gone. I haven’t seen her since.”

  My heart broke for him as he sat there silently.

  “Don’t worry about her,” I said, starting to rub his chest again, wanting to do something to make him feel better. To make both of us feel better. “We’re not going to let her anywhere near Noie.”

  “My parents don’t know,” he said.

  “Know what?”

  “Most of it. All they know is that Diane didn’t want the baby. Sam knows a little bit more, but she doesn’t know about the abortion.” He swallowed hard. “And none of them know about me paying her off. This is why I’ve been working my ass off since she left—because I knew that the money I gave her wasn’t going to be enough for her. That she would come back and try to take Noie away to use as some sort of sympathy object with the next guy.”

  He swallowed hard. “So when Sam told me that y’all saw Diane… I thought the worst.”

  I sat silently, trying to digest what he had just told me. “Oh, God, Gabe, I’m so sorry that we scared you like that.”

  I looked up at his poor, exhausted face. “Come on,” I said, wriggling out from his arms and standing up.

  “Where?” he asked, practically sleeping as he struggled to stand up.

  “Bed,” I said, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom where Noie was sleeping.

  “Can’t,” he muttered, his eyes barely staying open. “I want to, Maddie, but I can’t. Not now. Not tonight.”

  I felt the blush creep up to my cheeks. “Not like that, Gabe,” I said, leading him over to the bed and helping him sit on the edge. “Just sleep here. You’re too tired to go home now.”

  He yawned again, and looked up at me blearily, his eyes sleepy and sweet. “You sure?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I replied. “Don’t worry,” I repeated. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  He toed off his shoes and yanked off his shirt. Lying down on the bed next to Noie, he looked up at me. “You coming?” he asked, more asleep than he was awake, patting the space next to him.

  “Soon,” I lied. “Sleep now.”

  “Lie down,” he instructed. “You’re tired.”

  “Soon,” I repeated.

  Reaching over, he grabbed my hand and tugged me gently toward the bed. “Now,” he ordered sleepily. I stood there, letting him hold my hand as he fell asleep. Slowly uncurling his fingers from mine, I reached over and brushed the hair out of his eyes. I pulled the covers over him and Noie and grabbed an extra blanket and went to the living room. After locking the front door and porch and going to turn off the lights, I curled up on the couch and let myself be rocked to sleep by the lullaby of slow breathing in the apartment.

  The sound of Noie’s scampering feet woke me up the next morning. “Daddy, why is Maddie sleeping on the couch?” she whispered, peering down at me.

  “Shhh,” Gabe whispered. “Maddie’s still sleeping. Don’t wake her up.”

  Opening my eyes, I saw Noie’s curious face inches from mine. “Good morning, baby,” I said, leaning over to give her a hug.

  “No, Daddy, Maddie’s not sleeping!” she said, her voice at a normal decibel. “Maddie, why were you sleeping on the couch?”

  “I fell asleep on it,” I said, sitting up and stretching a little.

  The apartment smelled like coffee. I didn’t even realize there was any coffee left in the kitchen. “Why the couch?” Gabe asked, walking into the living room carrying a mug of coffee and handing it to me.

  I shrugged, not wanting to have that conversation in front of Noie. “Where did you find the coffee?” I asked, taking a small sip.

  “In the kitchen,” he said. “Noie and I will be leaving soon.”

  “Take your time,” I said, feeling Noie come and sit next to me on the couch, clutching her doll.

  “You’ve got work soon, and so do I,” he said. “And I have to change out of my clothing before I go to work.”

  I looked down at my pajamas and blushed again. Gabe, apparently, had the uncanny ability of always bumping into me when I was in pajamas.

  “Well, there is that,” I said, getting up from the couch, taking the blanket with me.

  Folding the blanket, I reached into the closet to put it away when I felt a warm hand on my back. Putting down the blanket with shaky hands, I turned to look up at Gabe. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied, wondering if he knew that I should be thanking him, too.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why’d you leave last night?” he asked.

  I shrugged, scared to tell him the truth.

  “There wasn’t really room,” I hedged.

  His eyebrow went up. “There was plenty of room.”

  “I wasn’t ready for that,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. “I don’t know if I can do more than friends yet, Gabe.”

  “You know last night was more than friends,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t pretend it wasn’t.”

  “I know it was,” I admitted, still not meeting his gaze. “I just don’t know, Gabe.”


  “Is this because of Diane?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with Diane,” I said, telling the truth. “It’s me.”

  Dropping his forehead to mine, Gabe closed his eyes. “You’re stronger than that, Maddie,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know if I am,” I said, wishing I was. “I never let myself let go, Gabe. Never. I was never allowed to. And I’m only doing it now. It’s not fair to either of us right now.”

  We stood there, at the entrance of the closet, breathing each other in. “Don’t run, Maddie,” Gabe finally said. “Don’t run this time, okay? We both want you here.”

  “I can try,” I whispered. “I want to be here with both of you, too.”

  “Noie’s going to be at my parents’ tonight,” he said, taking a small step back as we heard Noie’s footsteps run toward the bedroom. “She has a sleepover there once a week. Can I take you out to dinner?”

  “As what?” I asked, unsure.

  “As whatever you want it to be,” he replied.

  “Even if it’s just friends?”

  He looked at me as Noie pushed open the door. “You know that’s not all this is,” he said, the rasp of his voice making me shiver. “But if that’s what you want to say this is, than that’s all it will be tonight.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Daddy, I’m hungry!” Noie said, rubbing her eyes.

  “As soon as I put on my shoes, we’re going to go home and eat some breakfast,” Gabe said, tearing his eyes away from me and turning to Noie.

  “Is Maddie coming?” she asked.

  “No, honey, I have to go downstairs soon and help Grandma Evelyn make breakfast,” I replied.

  Noie pouted. “Want you to come,” she said.

  “A different time, okay?” I said.

  I saw Gabe’s eyes light up, and realized what I had just said. Oops.

  Helping Gabe gather Noie’s things, I walked them to the door. “Thank you, Maddie,” he said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome,” I managed as they walked down the stairs.

  I stood there, fingers touching the spot on my cheek his lips had brushed, watching his car drive off. I didn’t know if I could do this.

  I thought back to the night before, sitting on the couch next to Gabe, and wondered if I knew how not to do this.

  “How is he?” Sam asked me later that morning, looking tired and worried.

  I hated Diane—not just for what she did before, but because she made all the people I cared for worry like this. “I’m not sure,” I responded quietly, not wanting the entire café to find out about this. “He’s worried. Mostly just tired of everything, I think.”

  “I could kill her for what she did to him,” Sam said, fists clenching.

  She had no idea. “You and me both,” I agreed, handing her her coffee.

  Sam looked at me curiously. “You care about him, don’t you?” she asked me, her voice soft.

  “Of course I do,” I said. “He’s my friend.”

  “Honey, Gabe hasn’t really been friends with any girls since Noie was born,” she said.

  I shrugged. I hadn’t really been friends with any guys since the accident. Crawford being the only mistake.

  “Just friends, Sam,” I said, not wanting to make it more than it was. Or what I could handle right now.

  Reaching over she gave me a quick hug. “I’m glad it’s you, Maddie,” she whispered. “And my lips are sealed.”

  Would she have been as happy if she knew that I had more emotional baggage than Gabe did? I didn’t know. If I had a brother, I didn’t know if I would have been.

  Smoothing my dress, I fiddled nervously while I waited for Gabe to come over. This was a bad idea, I told myself. This was not a good idea.

  Why not? I argued. Gabe is your friend.

  Friend, my butt.

  Sam was my friend. At no point did I want to make out with her. Or Hannah, Mary Elizabeth, or Chris or Bryan.

  A knock on the door startled me.

  Gabe stood on the other side, holding a small bunch of flowers, wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and a brilliant smile. “Hi,” he said. Reaching out, he handed me the flowers. “For you.”

  Leaning down to inhale their sweet, summery scent, I smiled. “Thanks,” I said. “Let me just put these in some water.”

  Walking toward the living room, I found a vase on the shelf and headed to the kitchen to fill it. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked Gabe, my hands shaking a little as I filled the vase and arranged the flowers.

  “No, but thanks.”

  Why was I so nervous? It was just Gabe.

  Just Gabe.

  That was why I was so nervous.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Breathe with your heart, I could hear Salena say.

  Nodding, I followed Gabe out the door.

  “I thought you might want a change of scenery,” Gabe said as he drove out of Eno.

  “Well, all of this is a little bit of a change of scenery,” I said, watching the coastline flow by. “I’ve never lived this close to the beach.”

  “I thought you lived in New York,” he teased. “Don’t they have lots of beaches in New York City?”

  “Yeah, Manhattan is surrounded by sand—it’s almost like the Caribbean,” I replied, laughing a little.

  “See? I was right!” he said, turning on to the highway.

  “So smart,” I teased, relaxing a little. “No wonder the people at your firm love you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I think they love me too much,” he admitted as he turned the radio on low. “They definitely love me more than I love them.”

  “Do you?” I asked.

  “Do I what?”

  “Love them?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Sometimes. More often than not, I don’t.”

  “What would you be doing if you could do anything?” I asked, tapping my fingers to the rhythm of the song.

  “Construction,” he said. “And contracting. I like that end of work a lot more. Maybe once I finish up school I can branch out and work for myself.”

  I looked at his well-muscled arms, and could imagine him building houses. “So, why are you working there?” I asked. Pausing for a minute, I looked at him. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to,” I added hastily.

  He smiled. “You ask things like that, I’m going to ask them back to you,” he replied, turning off the highway. “So as long as you’re willing to answer any question you ask me.”

  I thought for a second. “This one, I’m okay with,” I said.

  “Architecture seemed to be a better job for a single dad,” he replied. “Construction is great, but you don’t get health benefits that you need when you have a little baby girl.”

  The car slowed down in front of a brightly lit restaurant. DeFiarino’s. “Italian?” I asked, delighted.

  “Noie informed me that you like macaroni and cheese,” he said, his Southern drawl thickening. “So, I figured I should take you to get some of the best mac and cheese in the state of North Carolina.”

  I was laughing as we walked into the restaurant and were led to our table. “That was quite an educated guess,” I said as we slid into the little booth in the corner.

  “How did I do?” he asked, flashing me a smile.

  “Excellently,” I said as the waiter came with a basket of bread and the menus.

  “So, what did you want to do, besides work in a café?” Gabe asked after we finished ordering.

  “A lot of things, I think,” I said.

  “Such as…”

  I shrugged. “Sing. Play music. Teach.”

  “I heard that you have the voice of an angel,” he said, his voice growing raspy.

  “Whoever told you that exaggerated,” I said, my mouth dry.

  Packaged, Gabe would probably be illegal in most states.

  “I doubt it,” he re
plied. “None of them are the type to exaggerate.” Tilting his head, he looked at me for a minute. “Teach?”

  I nodded. “That’s what I went to school for,” I said. “Education.”

  “Bachelor’s?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Master’s.”

  “Wait, how old are you?” he asked, confused.

  “Twenty-one,” I replied.

  “And how do you have a Master’s?”

  “I started college early, and after the accident, I tripled my workload. I finished my Master’s a few months ago,” I said, thinking back to the past few years—one class after the other.

  “Well, the public schools in Roanoke are always looking for teachers,” Gabe said.

  I looked down at my plate, uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I’m going to be here in September.”

  “You going back to New York?” he asked, his voice strangely calm.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” I said. “Probably not New York. I just don’t know if I’m going to stay here, or keep going.”

  “Well, it’s not September yet,” Gabe said. “You won’t have to worry about it for another couple of months, anyway.”

  Swallowing, I flashed him a smile. “It’s only April,” I said. “I’ve got time.”

  “You also have food now,” the waiter said, holding our steaming plates of pasta, making the two of us laugh.

  The rest of dinner flew by in a haze of easy conversation.

  It was so easy, to just sit there and talk to Gabe. To talk about whatever floated through either of our heads, letting the conversation twist and turn its way through everything from art to goofy kid’s TV shows to the best way to make pancakes. “Dessert?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “You should have asked five minutes ago, before I finished the pasta,” I said, rubbing my stomach, slightly amazed that I had managed to finish off the entire plate.

  Apparently, sea air was excellent for my appetite.

  “We’ll take the chocolate mousse to go,” Gabe asked the waiter. “And the check please.”

  Reaching for my wallet, I stopped at Gabe’s scowl. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, pulling out his wallet.