Breathless With Her: A Less Than Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “I miss you, Heath,” I said, whispering at my TV as I ate my cookie dough right out of the jar. They made edible cookie dough these days, perfect to help me when I was a stupid idiot who didn’t know how to talk about my feelings and tell anyone what I was thinking. Not that I actually knew what I was feeling or thinking.

  But edible cookie dough could at least help. Maybe.

  That and watching 10 Things I Hate About You.

  When Heath Ledger died, I had done my best to never watch another movie with him in it. It physically hurt to see him. It hadn’t been like that with other actors. I had quickly been able to fall into a Robin Williams movie or even an Alan Rickman film. It had hurt to watch them, but maybe it was because I knew what the loss of Heath Ledger had done to me that I had thrown myself into watching Sense and Sensibility or Die Hard. Into watching Aladdin and Patch Adams. Of course, the latter probably wasn’t the best idea for me because it just made me cry harder. But I had watched those movies. However, in the years since losing Heath Ledger, I hadn’t watched a single one of his films. I owned all of them on DVD, Blu-Ray, and digital. Mostly because I hadn’t wanted my inability to watch him to hurt the bottom line. Not that it actually mattered in the end, but my brain was weird that way.

  But today, I’d decided it would be the perfect day to watch the first movie where I had fallen in love with him. When Patrick sang that beautiful song to Kat with the marching band, I loved him. When he smiled, those dimples peeking out from his face, I had fallen for him hard.

  It didn’t seem fair that he died so young.

  So now, I was weeping into my edible cookie dough, worried about him rather than my own life. And that was good. Because I was allowed to be sad about Heath. I couldn’t be sad about my own decisions. Because I had been the one to make them.

  I had been the one who made those mistakes.

  So, if I was feeling poorly or wanting to throw myself off a bridge or something because I was that stupid, it was my own fault. And that was just something I would have to live with.

  I was an idiot.

  Patrick said something to Kat when they were on those swings, and I just closed my eyes, trying not to think of Devin.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to get to the end of the movie where Kat tells him all the things she hates about him. But mostly the thing that she hates about herself.

  Because that was me.

  I hated myself so much.

  I’d been so worried about getting hurt, that I had hurt the person who mattered the most.

  And it wasn’t until I was actually saying the words to him, being callous and cruel, trying to push him away, that I realized how much I cared about him.

  Now, I couldn’t take that back. I couldn’t magically make everything better and heal him.

  He didn’t deserve that.

  He deserved someone that wouldn’t lash out when they got scared. He deserved happiness.

  And I definitely wasn’t that.

  The scene cut to Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and I paused the film, not knowing if I wanted to continue the movie. Plus, I was a little nauseous from all the cookie dough I had eaten.

  They said it was completely edible and egg-free, and I had yet to get salmonella from any type of cookie dough, but maybe this would be my lot in life.

  I was a baker, after all. Dying by baked goods and bad decisions seemed like the perfect thing to be written on my tombstone.

  My doorbell rang. I sniffed and looked over my shoulder.

  It wouldn’t be Devin. He wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t come to me, trying to get me to work it out, or even just to get me to speak with him.

  He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. And I hadn’t reached out either. His last words to me were that I had hurt him. I deserved the pain I felt.

  Because I was stupid.

  I sat my cookie dough down next to my glass of wine, the one I hadn’t really touched because I didn’t want to get drunk again.

  I’d had too many drinks when I found out that Nicholas was cheating on me.

  And thinking about that just made me think of Devin, so I hadn’t even taken a sip of my wine.

  It felt weird to waste a good glass, but it just wasn’t in me.

  Nothing was anymore.

  I opened the door. Zoey stood there, a bit of pity in her eyes, but also some anger.

  I deserved that, though, didn’t I?

  I was a horrible person.

  “Hey. You look like shit,” Zoey said as she pushed past me into the house.

  I closed the door and wiped the crumbs off my T-shirt and sweatpants.

  I had put my hair on the top of my head, and I was pretty sure I had cookie dough stains on my shirt, as well, but it didn’t matter.

  I needed to wallow in my misery. Because I was the one who had done this.

  Not Devin. Devin had been amazing. No. I was the evil one.

  I deserved to look like crap and feel like crap.

  Because I was crap.

  “I know why you’re here, but you can’t make me feel any worse than I already do.”

  “Babe, I love you. But you’re a mess.” Zoey picked up the cookie dough, looked at it, raised her brows, and then went over to the fridge to put it away. She also tossed my glass of warm wine and put away the bottle that I had left on the table.

  “You don’t have to clean up after me.”

  “No, but I will. Because I love you. And Amelia would be here, too. Because she’s a friend, but things are weird.”

  “That’s what happens when you date your friend’s brother. Things get weird. You don’t have to be here either. I know you’re close with the family. And you and Caleb—”

  She cut me off with a look that could cut steel, and I winced.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’m friends with Caleb. Nothing more. It’s something that we all know. But I am your friend. And Devin has everyone else, so you get me.” She winced. “Well, that sounded worse than I meant it to sound.”

  “No, it sounded just about right.”

  “Okay, sit down and tell me what happened. Because I want to know why you pushed him away.”

  “Well, what do you know?”

  I sat down on the couch opposite her and just looked down at my hands.

  “Amelia and I were at her shop when Devin came storming in, saying he needed to dig something or beat something up with his hands. We didn’t know what it all meant, but Amelia asked how you were doing because that seemed like the thing that might make him act like that other than his work and maybe a dog. And he just said that things were over. That you had ended it. That he was fine. Just fucking fine.” She sighed. “His words. A total lie, by the way.”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “You keep using that word, and you’re probably going to keep telling yourself that. But unless you do something about it, you’re worse than an idiot. However, I’m not going to yell.”

  “You’re yelling a little bit.”

  “Because I love you. But just tell me. What happened?”

  I looked down at my hands again, wishing I could have my cookie dough. Or cry. Or do anything but face the poor decisions I’d made and continued to make.

  Zoey looked at me, shook her head, and then turned off the TV so I couldn’t finish watching 10 Things I Hate About You.

  Well, there were more than ten things I hated about myself right then.

  And, pity party of one, Erin speaking.

  “I went to see my dad.”

  Zoey’s eyes widened. “You found him?”

  I nodded.

  “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell any of us, Erin. Why didn’t you?”

  “I told Jenn. She didn’t want to go. She said that she was done with that part of her life. She said that he left us, and she wanted nothing to do with it or him. But I had to know. I had to know why. Well, it was wrong. I made a mistake. Something I’m apparently good at.”

  “Oh, God, what happened?”


  “I went there. He lives in Fort Collins.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yep. He was there, presumably with his wife since he mentioned her being at the house in passing. And he has at least one son. A teenager named Con. I think he’s around fourteen. And he loves his dad. He was polite, sweet, and he wanted to know why the nice lady on the porch was acting so funny. And Frank Rose put his hand on Con’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and called him son. And said that his mom needed him in the back. So, yeah, my dad, my deadbeat father, who didn’t want us and ran away, has a happy family. With a white picket fence. A fucking white picket fence. How does that even exist? I thought that was only in the fifties.”

  “They’re starting to make a comeback in some developments. But that’s really not the important thing. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, babe.”

  “Yeah, I am, too. I shouldn’t have gone. I should have just let myself continue thinking that he was in witness protection or in jail or dead. Something that wasn’t him having a perfect life that had nothing to do with the first family he’d forgotten. I’ve become a statistic, Zoey. A fucking statistic. And I got so weird about it that I couldn’t even drive home. So, I called Devin to come and get me.”

  Zoey’s eyes widened. “And he came. Just like that. No questions, no explanations?”

  “He didn’t need any. He came right to me and made sure I was safe. And then he held me all night. I didn’t cry but thought I would. Thought I could. We even kept our clothes on. No sex. We were only supposed to be friends who had sex. I wasn’t supposed to rely on him. Want him. Need him as much as I did.”

  “Did?”

  “Do? It doesn’t matter, does it? I ruined it. I ruined it because I was scared. And I can see it. I could see the wrong decisions that I made in my head as if I were an outsider. And I just wanted to shake myself. But I couldn’t, and I can’t go back. You can’t go back when you hurt someone like that.”

  “You didn’t cheat. There’re other ways you can go back. He’ll forgive you.”

  “I don’t deserve it. I told him that it was nice, and that we were done. And then he asked me point blank if it was for another man. I knew it was just a slip of the tongue because he got stressed out, he even apologized after he said it, but for some reason, I figured that, sure…why not tell him that? It’d be easier to let him walk away. Not get hurt. But it was stupid. And it makes no damn sense. So, yeah, he walked away after telling me that I hurt him and that he was done. So, I guess it’s over. Because I’m stupid.”

  “Babe. You’re not stupid. You just made some stupid decisions. But you kind of are a fool.”

  My eyes widened, and I blinked away the tears. “A fool. I’m not stupid, but I’m a fool?”

  “Well, I didn’t like you constantly putting yourself down just then. But you really are a fool.”

  “Thank you. This is helping.”

  “Oh, shut up. Devin’s so good for you. And you’re good for him. I don’t know why you had it in your head that it had to be short-term and just for fun. Devin’s worth more than that, and so are you.”

  “I had long-term, and Nicholas spat on it. Actually, he fucked the head cheerleader while doing coke off her chest. I’m pretty sure I’m done with trying to be full-time. And being in a real relationship. I wasn’t very good at it. I couldn’t keep Nicholas.”

  “No. You didn’t. But that’s on Nicholas. Not you. He’s an asshole. He always wanted more, and he used you to get it. That’s just the way it was. It wasn’t only him doing that woman in the bathroom. He always treated you like a second-class citizen. But you were getting better. You were finding yourself and becoming independent.”

  “So much for being independent. I kept having to rely on everyone else just to get things done.”

  “In emergencies, and because we love you. Being independent means you don’t have to rely on somebody, but you can. Or something like that. I don’t know. All I know is that you have good friends that love you. So, we’re going to be there for you. Just like you would be there for us. Just like you have been there for us. I don’t like that you can’t see that. Do you understand that when things are going wonky at my store, you come right over and help? That when Mrs. Murphy needs something, you’re right there. You just don’t see that, and I hate that for you. And as for Devin? Just because you weren’t looking for something, doesn’t mean it wasn’t supposed to be there. You need to fix this. Talk to him.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Start with you’re sorry. And tell him what you feel.”

  “I don’t know what I feel. I’ve been telling myself for so long that I shouldn’t feel anything when it comes to him, that I just can’t figure it out.”

  “Then do so. Figure out exactly what he means to you. That way, when you talk to him, you don’t hurt each other more. Because he’s great for you. Just like you’re great for him. But get it done. Fix this. Okay? I want to see you guys live happily ever after and have all the amazing love and happiness and sex and all the stuff that you enjoy.”

  “Did you just say you want to watch me having sex?” I asked with a laugh, still shaking a bit.

  “Well, I’m not really good with the words. But I want you to have a life that you deserve. And don’t tell me you deserve anything less than pure happiness. Because you deserve everything. You’re my best friend. And Amelia is too, but she’s not here at the moment, so I’m just going to call you it.”

  That made me laugh. “I’m really not good at this sort of thing.”

  “I know. I’m probably worse at it than you are. But you have a chance to fix it. So, do so.”

  “I could love him, Zoey. I think if I let myself. I could really love him.”

  “I know. So, wallow a bit more tonight. We’re going to finish this movie, even though it makes me cry just thinking about it.”

  “I know. Same.”

  “And then you’re going to shower, wipe off whatever cookie dough you have smeared all over yourself, and stop looking like the bedraggled old mess that you are.”

  “You’re such a good friend. Honest. But good.”

  “I’m sure you’d do the same for me. Not that I’ll ever actually let myself get to this point, but I digress.”

  I gave her a look, and she shook her head.

  No, tonight was not about Zoey and her decisions. Tonight was all about me.

  And, yes, I needed to fix this.

  And I would.

  Because I could love Devin.

  If I let myself. I just had to figure out how to do that.

  Chapter 16

  Devin

  Today sucked. But then again, most days this week had.

  I did my best not to look the dog in the eye as I finished up my route. But it kept stalking me, its little claws tapping on the pavement behind me.

  Seriously. I did not have a problem with dogs. I loved them. Mostly. But I did not like the dogs on my route.

  The beast yipped at me, its little high-pitched bark grating my ears. And then it growled, still high-pitched, with just a slightly deeper tone to it. I finished up the mail for the day, closed the community mailbox, and then turned to look at the dog. I didn’t need this today.

  It kept barking, coming closer to me with each hop, and then backing away. One hop forward. Bark. Back away. Hop forward. Yip. Back away.

  “Okay, buddy. Where’s your mama?” I asked. I knew that the dog lived two doors down with a single woman who enjoyed coming out to get the mail from me personally. She always made sure that her tank top was pushed just a little lower so I could get an eyeful of her ample bosom.

  Yes, I used the word bosom. Because that’s what it felt like. Like I was meat on a stick, and she wanted to rub herself all over me. And, of course, she always brought the dog.

  That thing had tried to bite me at least six times since I started this route.

  One that was coveted by others at my station, and yet no one really wanted to deal
with this particular canine. It wasn’t mean, not really. It just had that little dog personality where it needed to protect its territory even though it was itty-bitty.

  I couldn’t reach down and pick it up because I didn’t want to get in trouble for kidnapping a dog. Nor did I want to get bit.

  However, I couldn’t really move either. Because if I did, it followed me, yapping. If I tried to get closer to the truck, I was afraid it would go under a wheel or something or run out into the middle of the street and get hit.

  Dear God. I was exhausted.

  I hadn’t been sleeping. I was no longer used to sleeping alone. And didn’t that just piss me the fuck off?

  “Seriously, where’s your mama? Why aren’t you on your leash, or in your little basket? Or in her arms?”

  Miss Mahan loved this little dog, and she never let it out of her sight. She pampered the little thing and constantly went to get it pedicures, not just clips, but actual pedicures. I didn’t judge. As long as she was happy and the dog was happy and not biting me, I didn’t care.

  But the dog was getting really close to biting me. Really close.

  “Okay, Pippy. That’s enough.” I tried to put a growl into my voice, so I sounded more authoritative, but Pippy just kept yipping.

  “You need some help, Mr. Postman?” a man asked as he rolled by on his bike. He didn’t even look back, and I really wanted to flip him off. But I was in uniform. So, I couldn’t. I also couldn’t punch the man or try to get rid of the dog. No, I just needed to get back into my truck and go home. Well, back to the office anyway. And then home. I really just needed to get away from this dog. And I didn’t want to think about why I was having such a bad day.

  Because that all had to do with a certain somebody who’d told me to get lost.

  And, apparently, I was single now. Single and pissed off.

  Because Erin didn’t want us. She didn’t want me. She wanted to do everything on her own, and wanted nothing to do with me.

  But that was fine. I could do everything on my own, too. Like, get rid of this dog.

  “Okay, Pippy. Go back to your mom, please.”