Inhale, Exhale

by Matthews, C. L.

  I tip her chin back, making sure she has an airway. Then, I start compressions. I won’t cry. I can’t cry. She can’t die. She just fucking can’t. After the thirtieth compression, I pinch her nose, breathing life back into her lungs.

  “Come on, Peaches,” I beg, my voice small and desperate.

  She doesn’t move, but that doesn’t stop me from restarting the process all over again. I pump until I can’t. I bellow and beg until my voice is hoarse, and I breathe into her the inhale she needs so she exhales once more.

  “Come back to me, Peaches,” I beg, my heart constricting when nothing changes.

  I’m screaming, my chest caving, my heart literally dying along with hers. I kiss her, her head, cheeks, chin, nose, lips, and I don’t stop yelling even when the medics come and start their compressions, even when they have to push me away to help her.

  It’s like Lilac all over again. No sound. Nothing. Emptiness. Death.

  I couldn’t save my daughter.

  I couldn’t save my marriage.

  I couldn’t save my wife.

  It’s all my fault.

  They’re all gone because of me.

  chapter forty-five

  Jase

  I stand stiffly.

  My pain in my throat, my heart in my palms.

  Not in a million years, or at least until my mom dies, did I ever imagine myself at another funeral. And without my wife again, no less.

  Ace holds my one shoulder while Gene holds my other. I can’t cry. It’s like all the pain inside my chest is holding the tears hostage. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that was meant to be.

  Either way, it doesn’t make this any easier.

  chapter forty-six

  Jase

  It’s been a week.

  An entire week since Ellie drove her car off the bridge, causing more mayhem than I thought was possible.

  It’s also been a week since my wife woke. She’s connected to machines, tubes and monitors. They’re the only things breathing for her right now. Like her mom all those years ago, she looks like she’s barely hanging on. Her brain activity still exists, which means she’s still in there. She’s just stuck. She needs to fight, and she can. I know she can.

  So many things happened this week that have seriously tested my sanity. Francis told us what happened all those years ago, that he was hiding, biding his time for proof, so he could get his daughter back. With the Satoray money and entire town of Hollow Ridge on the line, he couldn’t come forward, Ellie would have cleaned them dry. She played the docile broken widow well, even I didn’t realize how deep it went.

  It’s why his parents tried getting custody of Gray. Without proof, they failed. It took them years to get a blood test for her, to make sure she was truly Francis’ kid. She is. She just doesn’t know anything about it or him. Nora didn’t really talk about him, not that I blamed her, it was a hard time.

  It seems Nate had been helping him for years, and Frankie helped Nate every time he relapsed since Lo couldn’t handle it anymore. That’s why they all stayed. At first, my anger seemed uncontrollable. With Loren in a hospital bed fighting for her life, he should have easily told us before. He could have saved her, us, me. Now we’re in a fucked-up limbo, and it could have been fixed with a simple phone call.

  Toby found out a few weeks ago. He meant to tell us both, but so much had happened. So, if I ought to be mad, I ought to be mad at him. We all know where his selfishness got him, he didn’t want Lo and I to work out our shit. The secret itself is proof.

  Gray hasn’t met her dad yet. Mom has kept them apart, hoping they will meet under better circumstances. She doesn’t seem too beat up about her mom, which scares me more than anything. I know she’s hurting. She’s a kid, a teen, and that’s an age where emotions run the most rampant. Ace refuses to talk to her, but she has asked for him.

  Ellie didn’t make it. She died when I left her to save Lo. And I did, but barely. She survived. I wouldn’t change the course of my decision for anything.

  The baby, the one Ellie was so adamant about, didn’t exist. She was never pregnant, and that hurt the most. My wife almost gave up her life for a nonexistent baby.

  My boy, he hasn’t talked to anyone, least of all me. He’s spent day and night in this room for his mom. He reads to her, talks to her, and never lets her hand go. Like all those times I wasn’t there for her, he is. But this time, I’m also here, and there’s nothing that will keep me away from fighting. Millie has kept Jazzy away as often as possible. Jaz isn’t taking her mom in the hospital well, she’s crying and upset constantly, and I’m sure it’s from all the secrets and uncertainty surrounding her.

  Another four days pass before Lo shows any signs of awareness with her body movements. The first time happened in the middle of the night while I was telling her about our first real date.

  “Remember when we went on our first date? You told me to get lost after I told you that the Padres sucked? God, you were so beautiful when you were angry. Come back to me, Lo.”

  The next time, I wasn’t around, but Ace said she squeezed his hand when he was telling her about how much better he and Jaz have been since staying at my mom’s.

  It hurt, knowing that I’d wounded him so much, that being away was peaceful, but I got past it immediately when I realized it’s unfair of me to put any kind of pressure on him after what I’ve done.

  A day later, my wife opens her eyes. She’s frantic, choking noises coming out of her as she jolts upward.

  “Nurse!” I yell, repeating it two more times before rubbing Lo’s arm. “Calm down, Peaches. Inhale, exhale. Breathe.”

  Awareness settles into her eyes, the glossiness of them the most beautiful sight.

  The nurse comes in, helping to remove the breathing tube from her throat and assisting her to be calmer.

  Lo tries talking, but only a slight wheeze comes out. Her eyes are troubled, her beautiful face tortured with anxiety.

  Bringing over one of Ace’s notebooks and a pen, I hand it to her.

  She tries writing something, but it’s more like scribbles than anything else. Her frustrated huff doesn’t stop her. She tries again and again, getting more and more frustrated with each swipe of her hand. Eventually, after moving slower, I see what she has written. It’s so scrawled that it takes me a moment to realize it says baby.

  I shake my head vehemently, wanting to tell her as soon as possible, but as soon as I start, Ace and Jaz come in.

  “Mom? Mom!” Ace says, astonished, his eyes lighting up for the first time in over a week.

  She softens at the sight of them, pulling them into her while wincing in pain. Ace pulls back, dragging Jaz away, then brings the water with the straw to his mom’s mouth.

  It’s like last time, but more painful.

  This time, for a moment, she was entirely gone.

  This time, she didn’t choose it.

  This time, the choice was made for her.

  She sips at it, making a disgusted face—half pain, half nauseated. Ace sets the cup back down as I watch him kiss her forehead. I should be doing that—consoling her, loving her, giving her everything she needs—but I can’t.

  He needs this.

  She needs this.

  They need this.

  Lo looks over to me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  “Hey, kids, let’s give your mommy a moment, okay?” the nurse recommends, seeing Lo’s face.

  Jazzy still doesn’t quite understand, but her eyes get a little glossy.

  Ace lifts her, kissing her nose softly. “C’mon Jazzy bear, let’s see what kind of food this crap hole has, eh?”

  She giggles, and I want to give him a stern look for using the word crap, but he’s too charming with her. He’s an amazing big brother and son.

  They leave, and Lo peers up at me with a love I don’t deserve. It makes my heart bleed, penetrating me deep in a place I didn’t think could feel anymore.

  She grabs for the paper, her ha
nds shaky, but I stop her. My hand caresses hers that are full of wires and tape. Her skin is irritated and red and in need of some major TLC. I rub circles over her wrist, feeling her faint heartbeat, the same one I couldn’t find when I thought I lost her for good.

  I lean down so we’re eye level and kiss her palm and each finger. Tears fall freely from my eyes as the momentary shock of her being alive disappears, replaced by absolute gratefulness. I’ve prayed every night since the accident. I’ve cried, begged, and pleaded with God and the world and everything in between to have my wife back.

  Now, here she is.

  Breathing.

  Alive.

  Here.

  I kiss her arms, trailing up to her elbow, and leave one there, too. I don’t stop my route until her forehead is beneath my lips. Under the hospital disinfectant smell is the peach smell I’ve always craved and loved. Beneath the death is the life I never want gone.

  She takes the paper and pen again, ignoring my pleas to stop her. She circles the word she wrote earlier, her eyes shining with tears.

  “It never existed,” I say each word slowly so they absorb and make sense. Her eyebrows pinch, her forehead creasing in the middle. “Ellie lied.”

  Her eyes widen, her mouth forming an “O.” She doesn’t appear angry, just accepting.

  There’s no fight in her, which makes perfect sense. She’s been in a medically induced coma for nearly two weeks.

  She starts drifting off as I hold her close to me, bringing the chair as close as I can to her, and when she falls asleep, I fall apart.

  chapter forty-seven

  Lo

  I’ve been discharged from the hospital for almost a month now. My recovery wasn’t as swift as I’d have liked, but it will only go up from here.

  Between Jase, Ace, Nate, and Toby, I haven’t been alone. They all took time watching me, caring for me, and explaining everything that happened.

  Like, holy shit. Francis isn’t dead.

  They were really married. He confessed that she got him high and wasted, convincing him to tie the knot. That his parents wouldn’t let them if he’d asked. He loved her, truly. Me being me, I knew what I’d do for love, and he sacrificed everything for his.

  That’s what has stuck with me the most. The fact that Jase left Ellie to save me won’t leave my mind either.

  He picked me.

  With that information, I feel even more lost.

  He comes around every day, bringing me flowers, a note and leaves a kiss on my forehead. I’m falling back in love with him. His sweetness. His heart. His ocean eyes.

  His first note took me by storm, hitting my chest with a newfound beat that I’d thought I lost back in college.

  Peaches,

  We met before you knew.

  “Met” is such a mediocre term, though.

  One night, Brant lost his mind, beating me until I could barely breathe.

  We both went to see Carrie, you know, that tacky Stephen King movie.

  What you didn’t know was that I’d found a piece of myself that Brant had stolen in the single glance I had of you.

  You changed my life that night.

  Regardless, you didn’t even know we’d met. We didn’t share a word, a stare, or anything else, yet you broke through this cloud that’d been pouring on me for a while.

  When he came for me again, your blurred complexion brought me faith and light and oxygen.

  It’s fate, Peaches.

  Love, Jase

  It reminded me why we fell in love.

  His heart. His passion. His soul.

  The fifth one made my stomach ache with nostalgia, forcing me to live the moment all over again, only making me feel sadder that I decided to not take him back.

  Peaches,

  Me again. I know. I know. It’s getting pitiful, but oh, well.

  Do you remember the first time we reunited when I first left for Brookewood?

  It’s been a while, I know, but that memory burns often when I’m depressed about the distance between us.

  You usually flew in, since driving three hours didn’t appeal to you. I don’t blame you. It was tedious and exhausting, but this time, you didn’t. You drove. All those hours blasting some pop music, I’m sure. I’d had a horrible day, failing that stupid test Bradbury gave me on the techniques of Integration. Who needs that shit anyway? Not me. And I work with numbers daily.

  Well, anyway, you drove all that way. I’d been heading to sleep, ignoring Francis who wanted to go to some frat party, and moping. I didn’t even call you to tell you goodnight. My grade was on the line, but that didn’t stop you.

  You showed up in my favorite dress, the one I recently trashed out of anger. It was only the third time I’d ever seen you wear it. It hugged your curves while still billowing out. You looked like a glass of sunshine. Yes, I understand that’s not how science works, but go with it.

  Derrick left to go to that party. When a knock sounded at the door, I was a total dick.

  “God, Derrick. Go get some pussy and leave me the fuck alone.”

  I heard your giggle.

  Immediately, I jumped out of the bed in disbelief. Opening that door to your perfect smile and body to match, I drank you in. Like that sunshine I mentioned, you brightened my entire day.

  We spent the next three days in bed together. I skipped several classes to be in your arms, and you missed school to just be with me. Anise wasn’t happy. She told me I was going to get you pregnant, and she wasn’t ready to be a grandma.

  Unbeknownst to us, we got pregnant two years later, and that’s the exact opposite of what she said. She knew, didn’t she? That we were destined—meant to be together—meant to get through it all. I wish I’d have known, too. Glad I do now. Fate is on our side, the one full of love and promise.

  I love you,

  Jase

  When I got to the tenth note, it made me want to make babies with him all over again. It made me feel alive. It made me feel precious.

  Lo,

  My sweet lovely Peaches. God, it never gets old calling you that. I never tire of telling you how beautiful you are, how caring you are, and how you are the best mother.

  When we had Ace and Jazzy, I fell in love with you all over again. Seeing your fierceness as your bore our children, the passion as you watched them grow, and the way you took motherhood by the balls proved you were a badass.

  But you had nothing to prove, baby. I already knew.

  I know we’ve never talked about our other baby girl. Our Lilac. I know it hurt you to be that mom, the one that loved endlessly, protected savagely, and persisted no matter what, but it broke you. It should have occurred to me that it was too much on you. It should have resonated with me that it took more than a piece of you. It should have been a fucking blaring siren that you wouldn’t just bounce back. And that it didn’t makes me feel unworthy of your love.

  If I could go back, I’d change it all.

  Not the memories or pain that we overcome, but the after. I’d be there for you in every sense of the way. I’d push to rise above the resentment. I’d love you so much fucking harder than I did. Then we’d be happy. We’d make more babies—if that’s what you want. Then I’d make love to you until the end of time because that’s never changed, my hunger for you will never change.

  Imagine if we tried again?

  Would we be stronger, more zealous? Lust-filled porn stars like college?

  I think it’d be better, and I’m not just talking about the sex.

  Checkmate.

  Your move, Peaches,

  Jase

  I’ve been staying with Millie. She takes care of me. Toby is there every day but we haven’t crossed any boundaries. I refuse to cross that line again, but it seems to drive Jase toward jealousy, and I like that look on him. A lot. It reminds me of the before.

  Jase looks at me like he used to. His eyes devour me. His body welcomes me, and his hands reach for me but stop themselves. It’s been like this since I w
as discharged. What the doctor never told him, though, is that I’m pregnant.

  I’m only two months along, and as shitty as it sounds, I don’t know who the father is. It could be Jase or Toby.

  I’ve kept this to myself, and maybe that’s why I’m at Millie’s house with Toby right now. Jase will probably walk away when he finds out. Toby wouldn’t.

  I’m stuck in limbo, and the only way forward is with the truth.

  Today is the day of change. I’ve been accepting this routine, but I need to thrive, be there for my kids, and bust ass. It’s what needs to be done, and today, the day of Lilac’s death anniversary is that day.

  Her little face feathers through my mind, squeezing my heart, but not in a painful way. It’s the way that lets me know she is okay, that she’d want me to be happy. It’s everything I need to push forward. For me. For them. For her.

  I head to a random hair salon I searched up on Google, and within thirty minutes, my waist-long hair is above my shoulders. I stare at myself in the mirror, not recognizing the woman staring back at me. This new me has a fresh start, a fresh page to turn to, and is no longer burdened by her past.

  When I make it back to Millie’s house, Toby’s eyes widen into saucers at my hair. He’s the first to see me, and gauging his reaction, it was a good pick to cut it this short.

  “Wow,” he comments. “I mean, fuck.”

  Laughing, I swat at his shoulder. “Stop it!”

  He smiles boyishly then smirks.

  When it falls, I can’t help but ask, “What’s up?”

  “Jase asked if you could meet him at your house. He has some things to discuss with you.”

  “Does he now?” I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he couldn’t say to me here. Maybe he wants to celebrate Lilac. It’d be the first time. Maybe he’s forgotten altogether that it’s her anniversary.