3 Breaths

by LK Collins

  “God, that’s crazy. No wonder your face looks so good.”

  “You like my face, do you?” I tease her.

  She slaps my arm and I raise my hands signaling a truce, and say, “I was only joking.”

  She nods and passes me a breakfast sandwich. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Of course.” She looks away from me and I worry that something is bothering her.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, I just…I had a rough night last night, again.”

  “Ivy, you gotta let it go. Each day, you have to focus on you. We can’t keep telling the other to do one thing and not do it ourselves.”

  She nods a few times, listening to me, and takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m trying, but I had a horrible dream last night about her dying and now I just keep envisioning her that way. It’s like that’s the only way I remember her now.”

  “No, Ivy. You can’t do that. She deserves more from you. It was a dream. Push it away. It’s not real.”

  “I know, but it’s like it’s burned into my mind,” she responds with tears in her eyes staring at the carpet.

  Taking her coffee, I set it down and grab both of her hands. “Look at me.”

  Her pain-filled eyes are red and glassy and I just want to take her pain away. Then I get an idea, something that might help. “Come with me and let me show you something?” She looks confused, but nods her head, and I place our food back in the bag and the coffees in the tray. Grabbing her hand, I lead her outside and down to my truck. “Where are we going?” she asks me as I help her up.

  “It’s better if I show you.”

  She buckles her seatbelt and I hand her the tray. She sets it on her lap and I jog around the vehicle. Getting in, my head is still pounding, but I know the fresh air and sound of the waves will help me, like it does every day.

  We make the trek to Long Beach, Zoë’s favorite place in the entire world, and I park in my usual spot. Ivy looks out the window and says, “I’m not really dressed for the beach.”

  “Me neither, just come with me.” I grab a towel from my back seat and tuck it under my arm. Taking the food from her, we step onto the soft white sand. I never told Ivy or anyone that Zoë asked me to bring her here before she died. My mom knows I go to Long Beach every day, but she thinks it’s just to clear my mind.

  Seagulls swirl in the air and a few families are scattered around enjoying a day in this amazing place. “This was Zoë’s favorite beach,” I tell Ivy and hand her a sandwich, laying the towel down. We each remove our flip-flops and sit side by side, facing the water.

  Ivy looks out at the expansive sea, letting out a deep breath of air that she has been holding. “We used to come here as kids for family vacations,” she says.

  “I know,” I respond, “She told me…every summer.”

  “Yup. Do you come here often?” she asks me.

  “Every day.”

  She looks at me a bit perplexed and asks, “Why?”

  I stretch my legs out and lean back on my arms in preparation to go back to that place, the one place I hate to revisit. “The night Zoë…passed…” Tears fill my eyes, imagining her so helpless as she fought for her life. “She…she had asked me to bring her here the next day. I promised I would and even being in so much pain after losing her, I came. And have every day since. It’s the place that I feel closest to her.” Pain reels through me, reliving the events, and I finally pull my eyes away from the water, glancing at Ivy who is quiet. She is crying herself watching the waves.

  I hoped bringing her here would help, but it seems to have only hurt her more. Taking my arm, I sling it over her shoulder and hug her tight against my body. She clings to me crying and I hold her close to me, where both of us can just…be.

  “Thank you for today,” Ivy says, as she gets into her car.

  “Of course, I hope it helped.”

  “It did. You always do, Krane.” She looks at me with those eyes and I smile. Heading back into my apartment, I plug my phone in to charge it and turn the shower on. Looking around at the filth I call home, I collect the clothes that are littered around my house and toss them into the wash. The wedding is soon and I don’t want to catch flak from my sister or family, which I know will happen if I pack a bunch of dirty crap.

  Hopping in the shower, I let the hot water burn my skin and know that if I continue my endurance training like I have, I can keep doing underground fighting. That’s really the only thing I know to do to get enough money to survive. And that’s all I do anymore – survive.

  As the water rolls down my body and washes away the pussy and booze of last night, I find myself thinking of standing at my front door naked with Ivy staring at me. I chuckle rinsing off. She always brings a smile to me. After getting out, I look in my closet for anything to wear and find a pair of shorts. In the distance, I hear my phone ringing. I walk out to it and pick it up, shocked by the name on the screen – Logan. I thought he’d have given up on me by now. I’m not sure what to say to him, so I’m glad it goes to voicemail.

  Just as I walk away, a message chimes, and as much as I want to ignore it, I have to listen to it. “What up, Krane, it’s Logan. I hope you’re good, man.” He pauses and clears his throat. “Listen, I wanted to let you know I’m having a barbecue on the beach tonight for my birthday. It would be cool if you could swing by. No questions from anyone or anything like that, I just miss you, buddy. It starts at six at Atlantic Beach.”

  The message comes to an end and the desperation in Logan’s voice hits me hard. I haven’t talked to him since the funeral. He was my best friend and I shut him out, just like I have everyone else that was in my life when Zoë died. When I left the city, I left my old life and everything that was a part of it behind. I moved away from them and convinced myself that they were better off without me around, when really I couldn’t bear the weight of their grief and the constant reminders of Zoë. It was a selfish thing to do and I knew that, but being alone and drunk was so much easier to make it through the days, rather than being fake and facing the demons that I’m still scared of. Taking a seat on my couch, I stare at the remnants of my life. Alcohol-filled nights to wash away the pain and a random fight here and there are all that I have to look forward to.

  Heading out on the balcony, I decide to call Ivy for some advice. The warmth of the day feels good on my body. “Everything okay?” she answers right away.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I just left your house and you’re already calling.”

  I laugh at her observation, always so concerned for others. “I’m good. I just wanted to bounce something off you. Today is Logan’s birthday.”

  “And?”

  “He just left me a message inviting me to a barbecue tonight…”

  “You should go.”

  “I know I should. But I don’t think I can be around him,” I tell her frustrated.

  “Krane, he’s your best friend. Clearly he cares about you. Go, have a few drinks, unwind, joke with Logan. You have the ability to make his night better. And if anyone asks you questions, just say you’re there to focus on Logan, not you.”

  “I don’t know if I’m up for it.”

  “Come on, loosen up, the way you do when we’re together. It’ll be good for both of you. I’ll even drive you, if that helps.”

  “Ivy, that’s sweet of you, but I can call a cab.”

  “So you’re going?”

  Damn, women are so good at getting me to do things sometimes. “Fine, I’ll go, if you come with me. But you’re driving, I might need some coercing to get out of the car.”

  “Okay, I’ll go with you. What time should I pick you up?”

  “Is five okay with you?”

  “Perfect!”

  We get off the phone and I know I need to get measured for my tux or my sister is going to flip her shit entirely. Going through my messages, I find her texts and see a slew of new ones she sent me, panicking and pleading with me to do this for her. So
I text her back, Going to get measured now!

  My sister means well. She just tries to juggle too much and because of that, like so many others, we have grown apart. It’s more my fault than anything, but I don’t give a shit about anyone anymore, not even myself.

  Knocking back another shot before I brush my teeth, the alcohol courses through my system and I’m thankful that Ivy is going to drive me. Her light knock on the door startles me, even though I knew she was coming. Jogging to the bathroom, I take a quick swig of mouthwash to hide the evidence of my drinking.

  Opening the door, she takes my breath away. Her hair is down and messy – I’ve never seen it like this – and then my eyes scan her body and I shake away the inappropriate thoughts. “Come in,” I tell her, leaning in and giving her a hug and soft kiss on the cheek. “You look good, really good,” I say.

  “Thanks, you too. It looks nice in here, you cleaned the place up?”

  “Yeah, I had some time today; it was getting pretty gross.”

  She laughs and walks to the couch, my eyes following her ass tucked into a pair of skin tight shorts. Her flawless legs have me thinking what it would be like to fuck her. Running my hands over my face trying to scrub away the filth in my head, I tell her, “I just gotta do my hair, then we can go.”

  She sits on the couch and picks up Zoë’s ring. I couldn’t bear to do anything with it when I cleaned today, still regretting not leaving it with her when she was cremated. There are so many memories and pain that fill me when I even think about moving it.

  Going into the bathroom, I splash some water on my face, and run it through my hair. Looking at my reflection in the mirror and the man I have become, I almost don’t recognize myself anymore. The past has fucked me up, everything with Zoë broke me in half, and now I’m just lost, wasting away.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I tell myself that I have to make a change, I have to try to move past all of this the best I can and somehow find the man that I am supposed to be. Because the man that I was died when Zoë took those last three breaths.

  Walking back out to the living room, Ivy is fiddling with the ring and sets it back down on the coffee table. She looks at me like she’s done something wrong, and I sit next to her, looking at the gold as it gleams in the light of the sun, the diamond sparkling like it did the day I gave it to Zoë.

  “Will you take her ring for me?” I ask Ivy.

  She looks at me, picking it back up and asks, “Why?”

  “I can’t have it here anymore. It’s the smallest object in the room, but all I see.”

  “Why not put it away, or take it back to the apartment in the city?”

  I give her half a laugh and get off the couch. Clearly, I’m worse off than she realizes. Looking down at her, I take a deep breath to clear my frustrations and keep my emotions in check. “I can’t do any of that. I can’t do anything without her.” Tears fill my eyes and I turn away, I’m such a fucking pussy.

  Walking into the kitchen, I grab the bottle of tequila, swallowing a huge mouthful. It burns badly, but it’s not any worse than the pain that burns inside of me. Ivy comes behind me and wraps her arms around me. I look down at her hands and grab them. “I know it feels that way sometimes,” she says against my back. “But it’s not that way. Just take each moment as it comes and roll with it. That’s what you have taught me to do and it helps.”

  I nod my head taking another swig of tequila. Ivy lets go of me and turns me towards her. I stare off, not able to bring my eyes to meet hers as they are filled with tears and I close them, so hurt and grief-stricken. However, I am caught off guard by her soft fingers as they cup my cheeks. I open my eyes and look at her. She gives me a small smile of encouragement and says, “Just breathe, Krane.”

  I let out a pent up puff of air and recalibrate my mind. I have to let Zoë go, she is not coming back, no matter what. I need to listen to Ivy and focus on each moment…because right now, that’s all I have. It’s all any of us have really, and I know better than anyone how that all can change.

  “Thank you,” I tell her placing my hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you kidding me? You’ve done so much for me, Krane, and talked me off the ledge more times than I can even remember. It’s the least I can do.”

  Kissing her on the forehead I pull her into a tight hug and set my chin on top of her head.

  She smells so good. Dammit, Krane, get a grip.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  “Yeah, if you are.”

  Taking one of her hands in mine, I begin to head out. She holds on to me and I grab my keys and phone off the coffee table, noticing that Zoë’s ring is gone. I’m so thankful to have Ivy around, for more ways than she’ll ever know.

  Logan’s wife, Victoria, passes he and I each a fresh brew. I take a pull and look down at my plate. This is really one of the only dinners that I have eaten and enjoyed in months. Ivy is picking at her fish fry and I can’t help but give her a hard time. “Do you need help with that?”

  She glares at me, and Logan whispers in my ear, “Are you two dating?”

  I shake my head and he raises his eyebrows at me, laughing and knocking back a swallow of his drink. I look at Ivy, still struggling with her fish and grab her plate from her. She lets it go, and I take all of the fish off of the bone and then toss the carcass into the fire when I am done. Handing her back her plate, she responds sarcastically, “Thank you.”

  Logan looks between us and says, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I snarl.

  “Okay. So what’s it going to take to get you back into the gym with me?”

  “A fucking miracle,” I respond, thankful that he has been cool tonight with not bringing up the past…until now.

  “Come on, man, you said so yourself that you are still fighting. Even if it is underground, you need to work out so you don’t get your ass whooped.”

  “I do my cardio. Right now, that’s about all I can hold myself to. I haven’t lost a fight yet.”

  He kicks the sand, rubbing his foot in a little deeper and asks, “Don’t you want to really get back into it though and start contending for a belt? You’re the most natural fighter I’ve ever seen.”

  I shake my head and toss my paper plate into the fire. “That was the old me, now I just want to make it through each day.” I get off of the chair I’m sitting on and wander off. I know that Logan and everyone else here just wants what is best for me. But I don’t give a shit about that stuff anymore.

  Walking down to the water, I look out on the ocean. This isn’t Long Beach, but I can still feel Zoë with me. Her soul lives in the water. My heart hurts, feeling this close to her, yet so far away, and I rip my eyes off of the massive view. Walking aimlessly away from the noise, I chug my beer because my head can’t take all of this anymore.

  “Krane,” I hear Ivy call from behind me. Looking back, she’s jogging to me, and I smile seeing her.

  “Sorry I left you,” I tell her.

  “It’s all right, you good?”

  “I guess,” I respond and reach my hand out towards her. She looks down at the gesture before giving her hand over to me. With her hand tightly in my hold, we begin to walk along the beach. I’m not sure what my plan is, or what we are doing, but all I know is that it feels really good to have her by my side.

  Looking ahead, I catch sight of something white being washed up on shore. We approach it just as it’s about to get sucked out to sea again. “What’s that?” Ivy asks as I pull it up from the water.

  I hand her the perfectly round sand dollar and she stares at it like I just gave her a stack of cash. “You never find these intact and so…perfect,” she says.

  “Must be your lucky day.” My phone rings as she looks at me with the most incredible eyes, so clear and beautiful.

  Pulling my phone out, I hesitate answering when I see it’s Ling. I don’t want this night to end, but I can’t let the call go.

  “What up, Ling?”

  “Krane
, do I have an opportunity for you tonight, my man.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “A fight in the Bronx against none other than the Resolution.”

  I can see now why he gave me all the details up front, knowing that I haven’t given two shits in the past about who I fight. But the Resolution was blacklisted from professional fighting for using HGH almost a year ago, so he’s no fucking joke. I think about the offer. Normally I’d jump all over a fight, I need the money, but fighting anywhere in the state of New York is illegal. All of my fights typically take place in Jersey or Boston. “I don’t know, man, I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

  “Come on, it’ll be safe. I’ve got the perfect place set up, with some of New York’s finest on my payroll to keep an eye out. I’ll even double your normal pay, and let’s say if you win I’ll give you an extra G.”

  “What time?”

  “Eight. Should I text you the address?”

  “Yeah.”

  I hang up, and look at Ivy. There is worry in her eyes. “A fight?” she asks, knowing me so fucking well.

  Facing her, I nod. “Thank you for everything today. I’m sorry to cut things short tonight, but I need the money.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I understand. I can come with you, if you want. You probably shouldn’t be driving.”

  “No, you don’t have to, I’ll take a cab.”

  She cups my cheek and I lean into her touch; her warmth feels so right. “I want to.” I close my eyes and know that I want her there with me tonight, too.

  “You sure?” I ask.

  She nods her head and I grab the back of her head, kissing her forehead. A text comes through my phone from Ling with the address and I check the time, “We need to get going.”

  She pulls her keys from her back pocket and says, “I’m ready.”

  I text Logan, Happy birthday brother, sorry, I got called for a fight. Love ya, buddy.

  “I think this is the place,” I tell Ivy as she puts her car in park. We both look up at the brick building and then I ask her, “Are you ready?”