Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  “I never meant for this to be an issue,” I said, glancing at Bill. “I really am happy with how things turned out. I can find another job.”

  I hoped. Preferably before the last of my savings disappeared in a few weeks.

  “No,” Roman said and walked to Bill. “Creating a stipulation so that Amy specifically loses an opportunity is no better than giving her one based on the same pretense.”

  “It would look bad,” Bill said, the same way he said it to me yesterday. Apparently this was the phrase of the week, but it was wearing thin. “We’re hanging on to this campaign now, but one wrong move and we could lose it. Then what? It won’t matter what the hell this woman does for a living, or how many times she’s seen on your arm, because you won’t be governor.” Bill calmed his tone and cleared his throat. “We need to focus on what is important. The election is in three days. You need to announce your support for the house seat and—”

  “I’m not supporting Warren Cunningham.” Roman said. “I told you that before.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Bill said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “A Cunningham vote on the house floor would give us the majority over the next four years. It’s the smart move, and you’re pissing it away because he dated your girlfriend!”

  “I’m not supporting him because he’s inexperienced, untrustworthy, and doesn’t know a damn thing about the state budget. He wants the chair because he believes it’s his right. He hasn’t earned it.”

  Roman looked ready to massacre Bill, and I took a few steps toward the door. I didn’t know what to say, if anything, but this seemed like a conversation to which I shouldn’t be privy.

  “If you don’t give Cunningham your support, he’ll go to the press about your girlfriend’s…transgressions,” Bill said, all his distaste for me obvious in his tone.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” Roman was talking between clenched teeth, and the temperature of my skin skyrocketed to a thousand degrees. Whether it was from Bill’s accusation or the venomous exchange between the two men, I didn’t know. But my blood felt like it was turning into wet cement, and my stomach was getting queasier by the second.

  “Cunningham came to me yesterday about her,” Bill glanced at me. “Telling a story about her having a part in her sister’s death.”

  Everything I’d been holding on to, the positive outlook and faith in something better, rushed from me. All I could do was glance frantically between Roman and Bill, shaking my head. I wanted to defend myself, but how? Why? I’d told Roman the truth, but I’d never actually thought this would happen—that Warren would take this kind of step.

  “Accomplice to a teen death caused by drug overdose is not flattering,” Bill said. He looked directly at me and I’d never felt so small—so dirty—in all my life. “You fucked this up from the beginning. How long has Cunningham known about this? How long have you been hiding it?”

  “I…I didn’t—” I started.

  “That is total bullshit,” Roman cut me off, putting himself physically between Bill and me. “That’s not what happened, and it’s disgusting that you or Cunningham would have the gall to spin such lies.”

  “Spinning is what I do!” Bill yelled. “It’s also what your opponent’s campaign does. You think the details matter? No. What matters is how it comes out, and trust me, it will come out.”

  My heart dropped into the bottom of my gut. Warren was a son of a bitch, but I hadn’t known he was this low. Blackmailing me was one thing, but the governor and his staff?

  Roman looked at me for a long moment.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. My voice cracked. It hurt so terribly all the way down my chest.

  Then, a kind of calm came over Roman, and he smiled at me before facing Bill again.

  “He wants a story? Then I’ll give him one. I’m supporting Mayor Stanton for the house seat. Cunningham can go to hell.”

  “God damn it!” Bill threw his hands over his head.

  Tears came to my eyes. Roman stood, collected and not the least bit concerned, at my defense. Never had anyone done such a thing.

  “I told you at the gala,” Bill said, pointing at Roman, “that pursuing this woman was a bad idea. She has fucked with your mind!”

  He then turned that angry finger on me, but it was the look on Roman’s face that struck something deep in my soul.

  The look of pure horror.

  Bill’s words sank in. Surely he had misspoken.

  “The gala?” I asked. “The night we met? But you…you didn’t know who I was until later.”

  Bill scoffed, and Roman instantly paled.

  “Wake up, Amy,” Bill said. “You really think he didn’t know?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Bill.”

  I didn’t think my mind could get any more fogged. My knees suddenly felt weak, and my ankles were shaky. My heart refused to pump blood—my lungs couldn’t take in air. This couldn’t be correct.

  “It was a setup…from the beginning?” I looked right at Roman. For the first time since I’d met him, the governor was speechless. “That can’t be right. You said…at dinner, at Angelo’s, that was when you…you were so mad at me for deceiving you.”

  “You honestly believe that the governor of New York didn’t know every single person who stepped into that gala? That he didn’t have a plan from the beginning? He wanted you for his image, that’s it.”

  Bill’s truth took the strength from every last bone in my body. Roman always had a plan. “And you played along?”

  Bill nodded. “The morning I saw you standing in his office was a surprise. I didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.”

  “That’s enough,” Roman said and turned his full attention to me. “Amy, all that was before I got to know you.”

  “Oh, but you did know me. Didn’t you? And you manipulated me into thinking—”

  My throat was closing, my body shutting down, unable to take the unbearable pain that was searing just beneath my skin. The one moment, the one night I’d clung to this whole time, had been a lie. He’d even gone extra lengths to make me believe I was the one responsible. Believe that…

  “I was more,” I whispered.

  “You are,” he said.

  But I simply shook my head and willed my mind to hang in there just a little longer. To process this mess and not break down.

  “The connection between us.” I could barely get out the last word, because there was no “us.” Not now, not from the beginning. “All of this was a setup. Lies.”

  These past few months, that night at the gala had been the one piece of truth I’d relied on. I’d actually thought I had glimpsed the real Roman that night.

  But like everything else, I’d been wrong.

  “Amy.” He stepped toward me and I backed away, holding up my hand.

  “Don’t.” Tears were in my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I needed to get out of his office. I couldn’t cry, not there.

  Everything about our relationship had been an even bigger sham than I’d known. And what was worse, everyone around me had known it.

  What Roman had offered me, what we’d shared, had meant nothing to him. Bill, and God knew who else, had known the entire time.

  Every moment Roman and I had spent together flashed through my mind. He had been adamant that to everyone else, we were real. But in reality, I had been the only one fooled.

  The only one stupid enough to trust him.

  My ribs were cracking and my body was folding in on itself. I was tired, tired with a kind of soul-deep exhaustion that inhabited every cell. Every ounce of sadness weighed heavily on me. I recognized this feeling: It was realization that life had just changed, drastically, and would never be the same.

  Loss.

  Total irrevocable loss.

  But this time, agony in my chest packed an extra punch. Because for the first time, I was watching something die in me that I hadn’t even known was possible.

  Hope.

/>   Whatever iota of that feeling I’d clung to over the past several years was gone. I looked at Roman. His body was tense as if ready to pounce, his dark eyes burning like freshly sparked flares.

  “Amy,” he rasped. “I love you.”

  I gripped my stomach, because his words shot a painful, invisible dagger right through my gut.

  “I don’t believe you,” I whispered.

  Turning from him, I took Bill’s advice from yesterday and did the only thing I could. The only option I had left…

  I walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  The pounding wouldn’t stop. After an hour, I wasn’t sure if it was at my front door, or just inside my head.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Amy!” Roman yelled and pounded the door again.

  I sank deeper beneath my blanket and tried to fade into the couch. Alone. Totally and completely alone, in an apartment that, come next week, I wouldn’t be able to afford. And the man I’d risked everything for was on the other side of the deadbolt that I refused to open.

  Clutching my cell phone, I stared at it. I knew what I was about to do was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t help it. I dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom?” I sniffed. “Mom, I know th-that things aren’t perfect between u-us.” I ran the back of my hand under my nose and tried to calm my sobbing. “But I really need you right now. I’m…I’m all alone. I’ve l-lost everything and I-I don’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, Amy,” she sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Whatever it is that you’ve gotten yourself into, I’m sure you’ll deal with it.”

  Until then, I hadn’t known a heart could break in more than one way.

  “Mom,” I begged, “Please.”

  Tears were running down my cheeks, and my head hurt so bad I was certain my brain was attacking itself.

  “Just tell me,” I whispered. “What will it take? What do I have to do for your forgiveness?”

  “Amy, I don’t think this is—”

  “Tell me, Mom. For once, just say it. The truth. All of it.”

  “Nothing, Amy.” Her words were sharp and steady. Like she’d known the answer to my question for a long time and had just chosen not to say it aloud.

  “Nothing?” I repeated.

  When she didn’t respond, I knew that whatever fragile connection had existed between us had snapped. I couldn’t say goodbye, mostly because my sobs had grown too violent.

  So I hung up.

  Because there was nothing left to say.

  Nothing left to do.

  Nothing.

  I threw my face into the couch and screamed, as if my body were purging the last seven years. The cushion muffled all the shrieking pain that spewed forth.

  “Amy?” Roman’s voice rang out from behind the door. I hadn’t noticed that the pounding had gotten softer. Had he heard my conversation? Did it matter?

  No. Because it wouldn’t change anything.

  “Amy, I’m here,” he said, repeating the words I’d said to him in the woods. But unlike then, I had nothing to hold on to. And I couldn’t open the door, because if I did, I might sink to a deeper level of despair, and fall even further into the abyss.

  “Amy…” his voice was softer, like he was right against the door frame. “I fucked up. But I’m here.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears just continued to run. Silently. Never ending. This felt like a nightmare, one I had jumped into and was now stuck in. The more time passed, the more I replayed every moment I’d spent with Roman. And all of them had been lies. I’d been stupid, naïve, and used on a whole new level.

  Nothing.

  Whether spoken by my mother’s voice, Roman’s, or my own, the word skewered me just the same. Right through the very center of my being, leaving nothing but a gaping hole. The pain was so great, it made me numb.

  I didn’t know how long Roman stayed out there. His knocking became almost soothing, and my eyes were too swollen from crying to keep them open any longer. So I closed them. The last thing I dared to hope was that this was all a dream, and that when I woke, it would all fade away.

  It wasn’t light that woke me, it was darkness. I glanced at the clock. It was just past seven in the evening. I had slept through the day. Keeping the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I did a quick check of the apartment.

  Still alone.

  With the election in less than forty-eight hours, I figured Paige would be basically MIA, and Hazel had finals coming up, so most of her time was spent at the library. I did not want to be in this apartment by myself right now, with only my thoughts for comfort. They were no comfort at all.

  My bones creaked like an old house. My face was hot and tender, like I’d been slapped several times.

  There was a light knock at the door. My heart stopped, thinking it was Roman, still outside. But a soft, sweet voice rang out instead.

  “Amy?” Knock, knock. “Amy, it’s Regina, dear.”

  Just the sound of her voice made the tears rise again. My own mother had disowned me, yet Regina was here.

  I walked to the door and opened it slightly.

  “He’s not with me,” she said softly as her gaze roamed over my face. “You poor thing. May I come in?”

  I nodded and opened the door.

  “C-can I get you something to drink?” I offered, feeling ridiculous but trying to hold it together and be somewhat hospitable.

  Regina simply opened her arms and wrapped me in the biggest hug I’d ever experienced. It was so surprising and so welcoming that those stupid tears I’d been fighting came flooding out.

  I hugged her back. She smelled like cinnamon cookies and kindness. Like a mother.

  “Shh, it’s alright, honey,” she said. “Come sit down.” We walked to the couch and she sat me down. “I’m going to make you some tea and toast.”

  Before I could argue with her, she walked into my kitchen and set straight to work, finding things and making me food while I attempted to pull myself together.

  “There we are.” She placed the tea and buttery toast on the coffee table.

  “Thank you,” I said and looked at her. “I assume you know?”

  “Roman called me.” She patted my hand. “But I’m not here to fight his battles.”

  I took a sip of my tea. “Thank you for coming anyway.”

  “Of course. Call it crazy, but the moment I met you, I knew you were a special girl. And whatever happens with you and Roman, it won’t change the fact that I’m here for you.”

  “Why?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but today had made me gun-shy. It was hard to believe that everyone didn’t have an agenda of their own.

  “You’re one of the strong ones.” Regina rubbed my shoulder. “And a nurturer. I could instantly see an innocent ferocity in you. When you apply it to the people you love, it’s a wonderful thing, but it can be hard on you.”

  I just shook my head. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “You’re a fighter, Amy.”

  I looked at her questioningly because after only one brief previous encounter, there was no way Regina could know me.

  As if reading my mind, she said, “Oh, I know all about you, dear. And I can tell you right now, only the tough ones survive the kind of loss you’ve had.” She glanced at her hands and her lip trembled a bit. “It’s hard to see the good when something so terrible happens. It’s hard to let go of the anger, but you did. You strive to make others feel better, safer.”

  “I haven’t done anything. I’ve failed.”

  “No, dear.” She patted my face gently. “New Beginnings is growing because of you. People will get help. Like I did.”

  I frowned. “You were at New Beginnings?”

  She nodded. “The world needs people like you, Amy.” She let out a long breath and raised an eyebrow. “The world also needs people like my son.”

  “You mean the kind of people wh
o take over your world,” I muttered. It wasn’t a question: I knew firsthand that Roman Reese was a force greater than gravity. And without it, the effects were brutal.

  “Yes. You and my son have very similar qualities, he just acts on his differently. But he loves just as fiercely…and it breaks his heart. Which is why he hasn’t, until now.” She swallowed hard.

  “Who broke his heart?” I asked.

  Despite the current situation, the part of my brain I feared would never go away that was still wrapped up in Roman wanted to know who caused him pain.

  “I did,” Regina whispered. “Over and over, I broke his trust and his faith and replaced them with fear.” A tear ran down her face, and her gold bracelet jingled as she wiped it away. “But you have brought out a softness in him. An ease. You are very important to him.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

  I appreciated Regina’s honesty, and I hurt to know what she and Roman had gone through. But I didn’t know what step to take now. All I knew was that I had been a part of a scheme. A plan Roman had had in place the whole time. And that made everything we’d shared a part of that scheme.

  Tears flooded my eyes again.

  “Amy.” She shifted to face me fully and clasped her hands together. “Roman hasn’t asked me for anything in more than twenty years. I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but I can tell you that he cares more about you than anyone else.”

  “It was a setup,” I whispered. I didn’t want to go into the whole story, but the basics were simple. “It was never about love, it was all a plan. A means to a political end.”

  Regina took a deep breath. “That’s my fault.” I frowned and looked at her. “Up until you, dear, Roman hasn’t trusted a soul on this earth. What I did to him—how I left him—” she shook her head, more tears in her eyes. “It’s a defense mechanism. One I created in him. If you always have a plan, then you have control of everything and everyone in your life. You can’t be hurt. Can’t be blindsided. Can’t be left.”