Breathe

by Amber Lacie

  My hand pulls back and the dart flies from my fingers as I yell, “I hate you for making me your puppet.” The dart punctures the picture, right below his hairline.

  I aim the next one towards his eyes. “I hate you for making me hate myself.” The darts continue to fly from my hands, as I scream with tears coming down my face. I yell at him for all the lies, the pain, the hurt, and the broken bones. The last dart flies towards his face, hitting him square on the tip of his nose, as I yell, “I hate you for taking my time from me. I hate you for making me believe you could save me. I hate you. I hate that I walked away from something so beautiful and pure, for you. I hate that you’re still alive and he’s not! It’s not fair! He was so good to me. He was perfect and now I’m all alone. I hate all of this!”

  My hands cover my face and I let out a terrifying scream of rage. God, I am so mad. Owen wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me to him, as I weep against his chest. He sways back and forth, as he whispers, “It’s okay. I got you.” His hands rub up and down my back. As I relax, his hands slow, until they stop all together and we are just standing in my apartment swaying back and forth.

  “How do you feel?”

  Sniffing, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “Better. I actually feel better.”

  “Yeah?”

  Lifting my head, I look into his eyes. “I feel a hundred times lighter.”

  “Perfect.” In his excitement, he kisses my forehead. My heart stops and then immediately starts again. My lungs inflate and for the first time, in a long time, I start to feel like I am breathing again. I thought it might have happened before, but this time I am sure.

  Owen spins me around and walks back over towards the dartboard with a new picture in his hand. “This time, I made sure he was ugly.” A giggle escapes me, as I notice Michael has a uni-brow now, as well as two blacked out front teeth. A sly grin appears on Owen’s face, as he hands me the darts. “She laughed.”

  I suck in my top lip, trying to hold a straight face. “I don’t believe she did.”

  “Hmmm.” His fingers run along his beard, as he raises an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think she lies.”

  “Think what you want.”

  Shaking his head, Owen moves to stand behind me. “This time, I want you to tell him why you are better than him.”

  I look over my shoulder questioning him, but he only gives me a reassuring nod and a wave of his hand. Taking a deep breath, I pinch the dart between my forefingers and roll it around a couple of times. I smile, as it leaves my fingertips. “I was born better than you.” It hits the right side of his face, so I take aim again. “I’m better because I don’t need to hurt people to make them stay with me.” The darts fly one by one. Owen gathers them up, once I run out and hands them to me again. I smile, as I continue to list off my reasons.

  Two darts lay in the palm of my hand. I’m going to make sure that these two count. The first one hits him in the center of his left eye. “I’m better than you because I survived.” The last one leaves my fingertips and flies towards his picture, hitting his bottom lip, as I yell, “I’m better than you because I was loved. I was loved by a man far greater than you will ever be.”

  Running my hands through my hair, I look over my shoulder at Owen, with a huge grin on my face. He has no idea how much weight I was carrying around. I feel so incredibly light right now. I feel good, and it is amazing. Owen collects the darts and sets them back inside the box.

  “How do you feel now, Carsten?”

  “I don’t know. Relieved? Lighter? That was great. Thank you so much for all of this.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I stare at Michaels ripped picture. I wonder. “Owen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think he felt all the darts? I mean, do you think it works like voodoo?”

  Owen looks at me completely serious, as if he has already thought this over. “No. We would need something that belonged to him. Besides, I think it requires chanting, while sacrificing an animal. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this wasn’t voodoo.” The fact that he is keeping a straight face, while reciting the ins and outs of voodoo, catches me completely off guard. My hands fly towards my mouth, as a laugh escapes. It does little to stop me. The first laugh is followed by another and then another. My sides begin to ache from laughing so hard, but I can’t stop.

  This entire night has been complete insanity and I love it. It felt so amazing to be able to let go and now, I am not too sure that I haven’t practiced witchcraft, as well. Tears spring from the corners of my eyes, as I try to calm myself down. Owen is just staring at me with a huge cheesy grin on his face. He is rather proud of himself.

  “Now, that was a laugh.”

  “You caught me. I was definitely laughing.”

  “I like when you laugh. I’m starting to think that it’s my favorite sound in the whole world.”

  Blushing, I look anywhere, but at him.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You look away when I compliment you.”

  “I don’t know. I just do.”

  “Hmmm.” His fingers run through his ash blonde hair, pushing it back out of his face. “I guess we will just have to work on that, as well.”

  We decide to watch a movie after cleaning up the dart mess. Owen orders some dinner for us and I choose the movie. He sits down beside me on the futon, intentionally leaving a few inches between us. “So, what did you decide on?” I hold up the black VHS tape in my hands and push it into the VCR. We fast forward through the previews. As soon as the movie starts, he knows exactly what we are watching. “Are we really watching ‘The Goonies?’”

  “Yes, is that a problem?”

  “Absolutely not. I love this movie.” I had no idea how much until he starts quoting all the lines. The only time either of us get up from the futon is when Owen goes to the door to grab dinner. We gorge ourselves on Chinese takeout, while watching the movie. Eventually, I get tired and I pull my blanket up around me, as I lean onto Owen’s shoulder. He very slowly wraps his arm around me. I am not sure if we are still on the friends only agreement, or where exactly this is going, not that it matters. Tonight, was incredible and I am basking in it.

  My eyes begin to close and I am vaguely aware of curling up against him and falling asleep, with my head in his lap. I am not sure what time he left, but when I wake up at three AM, I am alone in my apartment, curled up in a tight ball on my futon. I may be alone, but I no longer feel alone. Closing my eyes, I wrap my blanket tightly around my shoulders and drift off to sleep. I dream of floppy, brown-haired boys and four wheelers ripping through fields. It is the first time that I say goodbye to Holden in my dreams, without feeling like my world is shattering.

  Chapter 27

  It is amazing how one event can change your life. One minute, I was in an abusive relationship and the next minute I was being rescued by my best friend. Then, just when I thought things between us were perfect, he was taken from me. It still hurts. I don’t think it will ever not hurt. I loved him and I still do. I wish I knew how to move on from it all.

  Owen has kept true to his promise. He has made me laugh every day for the last month. If I don’t see him, he will call me or leave me a joke on my answering machine. The jokes are terrible, simply awful. I love them. Each day it gets easier and easier to breathe again. I still firmly believe Holden was my breath. He took it with him when he died. Now, I wonder if Owen is slowly giving it back to me. Neither one of us have brought up the boundaries of our relationship. He often takes my hand without asking, when we are out in public together. He showers me with compliments and kisses my forehead, whenever he feels the need to. I never make the first move, but I don’t push him away. I like the way I feel when I am with him. He calms me.

  Tonight, he is coming over. Not only is he in charge of the movie for tonight, but he said he has a surprise for me, as well. I am hoping that it is c
hocolate or a good bottle of wine. God knows, I could use both. I am still in my pajamas. I should probably shower or change my clothes, but I don’t want to take off Holden’s shirt just yet. His smell is starting to fade. I only have so much of his cologne left, so I use it sparingly.

  It is odd how close I have felt to him, lately. If I close my eyes, I swear I can feel him standing right beside me. I have been talking to him a lot, as of late. Our conversations are always one sided and tend to be about nothing. I miss him so much. He took a piece of me when he died and I don’t think that I will ever get it back. That part of me belongs to him.

  The phone rings, causing me to jump up from my spot on the futon. I quickly answer the phone, just in case it is Owen. “Hello.”

  “Hey. I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I’d check in on you.” Rebecca’s voice is soft, almost hesitant.

  “Sorry, I know it has been a couple of weeks. I have just been really busy with the new pieces for the gallery and I have been spending a lot of time with Owen.”

  “And, how is Owen doing?”

  “Fine.”

  “That doesn’t sound convincing. The first-time Mark said he was having his boss over, I was so nervous, but once I met Owen, I was pleasantly surprised.”

  “He is Mark’s boss.” It is not a question. It is more of a realization.

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No, not exactly. He talks about the law firm, but I thought he just worked there.”

  “Sweetie, he’s Vice President of his father’s firm. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice his lifestyle.”

  “I mean, when I saw his place I assumed he was wealthy. I jokingly asked him once how a lawyer could afford his apartment. He made a joke of not just being a lawyer, but a lawyer who also knew the stock market. It’s not like I sat down and asked him to calculate his wealth. I’m not like that, Becca. I just like his company. He makes me feel…I mean…I’m not so alone anymore.”

  “Carsten, I love you. You know that it’s okay to move on, right?”

  Is it? Because it doesn’t feel like it. Taking a deep breath, I bury my nose in Holden’s shirt. His smell is my addiction. I always need it just a little bit more. Side stepping around her question, I ask her my own. “How are you and Mark?”

  “I love you. You know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, right?”

  “Okay, now you have me officially freaked out. What is going on?”

  “Mark proposed, and I said yes.”

  I’m so happy for her. “Of course, you said yes. He loves you.” If I am happy for her, why does my excitement feel so forced?

  “I have always wanted a big outdoor wedding. You know that. And, well, Mark and I already had plans to visit my parents for the Fourth of July, so we’ve decided to have it at my parents. My mom has already talked to the florist and they are planning this beautiful garden to spread out around the gazebo in their backyard.”

  The sound of my blood rushing through my body at high rates pounds in my ears, making it hard for me to understand what she is saying. Surely, she is talking about next July. That would give me a little over a year to get used to the idea of going back to Indiana. I could do that. A year would give me plenty of time to face all of my ghosts.

  “And Carsten, you’ll be there of course. I can’t get married without a maid of honor.”

  “Becca, I love you. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “This is so exciting. I can’t believe I’m going to be Mrs. Mark Bronson in less than four months. July first will be the first day of the rest of my life with him.” Her high-pitched voice screeches with joy, while I am still counting months on my fingers. My eyes flick to the calendar I have hanging on my fridge. Today is the eighth of April, which leaves exactly eighty-three days until her wedding. Eighty-three days. Eighty-three days until I see my dad. Eighty-three days until I see Holden’s parents. Eighty-three days until I come face to face with a town that I never wanted to go back to.

  Rebecca is still rattling on the phone about dresses and color schemes. I mumble a few coherent words here and there, but my brain feels like it is collapsing. “Becca. I have to go. Owen is here.” It’s a lie. He is not here, but she doesn’t know that.

  “Okay, sweetie. I’ll call you later next week to get your dress size. This is just so exciting.”

  “Uh-huh. Next week. Gotcha. Later, Becca.” Hanging up the phone, I walk in a daze to the bathroom. I adjust the shower to the perfect temperature and shed my clothes. The hot water scalds against my skin. The glass shower door steams up and by habit, I draw a heart on it. I write our initials in it. Holden should be here with me. We should be celebrating our first wedding anniversary next month. But there was no wedding because he is not here. He is not coming back. I know this. I just wish my heart would accept it.

  There is no reason for me not to be happy for Rebecca. It is time that I quit focusing solely on my needs. I am not the only one who lost someone. She lost a close friend, too. I have never asked her how she handles it so well. It is probably because I am not handling it. I need to let go of what could have been and focus on the now. Now, just happens to be Rebecca’s wedding. If she wants to get married back in Indiana, surrounded by flowers in July, then I will stand by her and support her like I should every step of the way.

  Placing a kiss on the tips of my fingers, I press it against the heart I drew, before wiping it away. I love him, but I love other people too, and that is okay. It doesn’t take me long to get ready for movie night with Owen. Everything with him is so easy and relaxed. My door buzzes.

  Jumping up, I open the door and buzz him in. All I can see is one long-stemmed rose. The deep red of the petal has me entranced. I mentally rack my brain, trying to remember what each rose means. I am almost certain that one single red rose means ‘I love you’. My stomach flips a thousand times, before he reaches my door. Am I ready for this?

  “I brought the movie as asked.” Handing me the rose, Owen leans in and kisses my cheek. “Don’t freak out. Just breathe, little girl. I got you.”

  My eyes blink, as I step back, allowing him in the apartment. “I got you. Don’t worry. You’re my girl. I’ll always have you.” Holden’s words echo so loudly in my mind as if he is right beside me, whispering them in my ear. I am not sure who has me, but I am glad that someone does because I definitely don’t have me. Stepping back, I reach for something, anything to hold onto, as the air is sucked from my lungs.

  “Whoa.” Strong arms wrap around my waist, steadying me on my feet. “I knew this would be hard for you, but I’m not sorry. Come sit with me.” Owen guides me over to the futon, and pulls me onto his lap. His hands run up and down my arm, as his breath falls softly against the side of my face. “Carsten, I need you to look at me. Can you try for me?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him chewing on his bottom lip. His perfectly sculpted beard wraps neatly around his jaw. Deep blue eyes with long eyelashes patiently look at me. Turning my head, I shift myself in his lap, so that I can look back at the man who brought me a long-stemmed rose.

  I stare blankly back at him. His fingers, softly brush my hair back behind my ear. They linger longer than usual and I find myself turning into them. “Don’t freak out. I want you to hear everything I have to say…just hear me out…I love you.” My breath hitches and a gasp leaves my lips. “I knew you were different the first time we met. You blew me off without even a second glance. I wasn’t used to that. Your body was there that night at dinner, but your mind wasn’t. I could tell something was missing. It was like your light was out. The longer the night drew on, the dimmer your light got. Then we were in the kitchen and I dropped the bowl, I knew someone had shattered you.”

  ‘Your light was out.’ His words strike something in me. I did burn out. I crashed. I exploded, destroying everything around me and he could see it. Without one word said between us, he could see it.

  Owen softly wraps his hand around
the back of my neck, his fingers gently brush against my skin. “When we were standing together in the cold, I made you laugh. Something lit up inside of you and for a split second, I was so blinded that I couldn’t see anything else, but you. The light faded as quickly as it came and then there we were, standing in the dark together.” His forehead presses against mine, our lips almost touching.

  “I love you. I love the spark that shines through you when you laugh…I love your sadness. I love the way you put all of yourself into your art…I love the way you are cautious with your heart…I get it. I completely understand if you can’t say it back. I want you to know that you don’t have to. If you let this happen, if you let us have a chance, I will love you enough for the both of us.” His eyes look straight into my soul.

  Emotions, I wasn’t sure I had anymore, are racing through me. My mind is trying to sort out all the confusion, while my heart beats a little bit faster with every word he says. A tear rolls softly down my cheek, not out of sadness, but from something completely different.

  Owen swipes my tear away with his thumb. “It’s okay. I got you.”

  My lips move forward on their own accord, pressing softly against his. His hand tightens on the back of my neck, swirling his fingers in my hair. My mouth slowly parts, as I feel his tongue sweep across my lips. I open myself to him, not just my lips, but also my heart. His warm breath tickles against my tongue, as I desperately cling to him. My hands slide into his hair, pulling him down towards me.

  Owen shifts me in his arms, as he lifts me and lays me down on the pillows beside me. Hot, wet kisses trail along my jaw to my ear and down the side of my neck to my collarbone. Goosebumps spread across my skin, as I pull at his black sweater. My hands graze against the skin of his back, tracing his body as they slide to his chest. A trail of hair leads from his chest, straight down the middle towards his perfectly cut abs. Holy fucking shit.

  Nipping at my flesh, he rakes his teeth against my jaw, finding my lips with his once again. He presses his forehead against mine, breaking our contact. Our chests rise greedily, gasping for air. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. Tell me to stop and I will.”