The Reason I Breathe

by CORY CYR

  I told you it wasn’t true. I’d know it. I’d feel it. The person was mistaken, and a DNA test would prove it. Ryan, what I wanted to tell you was regardless what those documents said, whatever the DNA test proved, I DID NOT CARE. I didn’t say it out loud because I was sure you’d be repulsed. Or worse, you’d never be able to look at me again. I knew how it would sound. But I would do or say anything not to lose you.

  Goddammit, I’m a fucking imperfect version of a man. I couldn’t survive the loss. You’d already made up your mind. I could tell by the look in your eyes. That fucking test would change everything. Yeah, you would always love me. Obviously, paperwork couldn’t change that, but we could never be together again. I told you I’d go through every beating, every burn, every punch… I’d do it all again if I knew you were waiting at the end of the line. You were mine, and I swore to God somehow I was going to make you see documents would never change that.

  You started crying, begging me to leave. I did leave the bedroom, but I had no intention of going home. I didn’t need a bed. The living room recliner would do just fine. I didn’t foresee wanting to sleep. Quinn and I spent a few hours talking strategies about the documents, the DNA test, and how to handle the results. It was a good thing Trina had married a well-connected dude, more his family than him, because we would get the results early versus waiting around for weeks.

  * * *

  You didn’t even want to be in the same car with me. Quinn and I had to drive separately from you and Trina to the hospital. God, Ryan, you wouldn’t even go into the elevator with me. You took the stairs. I never felt as deflated as I did in that moment. It took less than five minutes to swab our mouths. Three hundred seconds to possibly devastate our lives and take everything that meant anything to me.

  Some strange nurse handed Quinn her card and told us we all needed to talk. What we didn’t need currently was cryptic messages.

  Three days. Three fucking days and we’d have the results. Seventy-two hours until I’d know if you were still mine. I didn’t have any plans on being apart from you. If you didn’t want to see me, fine. But I was going to stay at Trina and Quinn’s. I couldn’t go home. It wasn’t even my home. It was your home. We hadn’t been together long enough for it to be our home yet. It was cold and lonely. I had too much time to think. To contemplate a life without you.

  I hated everything currently. You didn’t want me staying. Maybe it was too painful, or was I a constant reminder of what could have been? Being together hadn’t been easy. Possibly you decided being with me was too much trouble. I’m not claiming it was all sunshine and flowers, but the path to happiness sometimes never is. Weren’t the struggles supposed to make us stronger? You begged me to go home as you went with Trina. I felt like you’d already made your decision.

  I felt rejected when Quinn took me to your house and dropped me off. As I walked in, it was cold and vacant. Just like me. I barely had the physical energy to make a fire. I sat in the living room for a long time. Was this my future? Was this how it was going to be after you’d gone? God, Ryan, it was hard for me to believe you would allow paperwork to define us. No matter what it said, I would never think of you as my sister. It killed me inside to think those documents could destroy us before we even had a chance. Maybe it should shatter me. There was no way I could turn off my emotions. Would I be expected to stop loving you? Would it be considered incest if I still wanted you? Would I be persecuted by my peers if I said it didn’t matter? I only wanted you.

  I sent you texts all night and the next two days. You never answered one. I felt that ever-growing pit in my stomach. I was beginning to wonder if you’d still love me regardless of what the test proved. All of this might have pushed you over the edge. Was I worth fighting for? The night before the test results, I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t work, sleep, or eat. I had to have just a scrap of hope. Something.

  I called you. Late. When you heard my voice, you began to cry. You almost broke me, babe. I never wanted to be responsible for causing you pain. I realized this wasn’t my doing, but hearing you in such agony destroyed me. Literally made my heart break. Hearing you speak caused my voice to crack. I felt a sob trying to escape my throat. You whispered you’d see me tomorrow. I could hear the doubt in your voice. I heard it all when you said you loved me, but… I knew what you were trying to tell me. If the test did come back positive, you were saying good-bye. You were leaving me. We were over. Oh, baby, you had no idea when I read in between the lines of what you said that not only we would be over, but it would end me. I told you before I was your last. Well, that went both ways.

  Quinn picked me up the next morning. Trina and you were in the backseat. I stared into your face, seeing the same reflection I’d seen in the mirror this morning. Tired and lifeless eyes. When we got to the hospital, you wanted to take the stairs. Alone. As we three got out of the elevator, I noticed you weren’t there. I felt the niggling of panic as I opened the stairwell door. I took the stairs two at a time, then saw you slumped against the wall. I scooped you up and cradled you close to my chest. I relished our close contact for a moment. I felt like we hadn’t touched in months. I brushed a kiss to your forehead as I came back to the elevator and set you back on your feet. All four of us walked stoically to the lab.

  I was pissed. Jesus, how had this happened? Oh yeah, that’s right. Your dad decided to bang my mother. I snapped at the doctor when he asked about privacy. I just wanted the damn results. I had to know if fifty-cents worth of papers and our parents’ indiscretions were going to be responsible for demolishing my entire world. The doctor handed us our test results.

  I almost refused to believe what I read. I choked back a sigh of relief as my heart continued to beat erratically. The scientific proof was in our hands. It could not be disputed. You and I were not related. And as thrilled as I was, I was still livid. Someone had fucked up. They’d made a mistake. An error that put us through hell and made things so miserable. I hoped the damage was reversible. I prayed we could put this behind us and move forward. Trina was ecstatic as she flung her arms over us both. Even Quinn exhaled with relief.

  I held you. Tightly. You began to sob quietly, and I could feel your body quiver in my arms. I tried to comfort you with the knowledge that heads were going to roll for this mistake. But something didn’t make sense. It bothered me because my full name had been on those documents. I couldn’t see how someone could make such an error. I mean, they’d gotten the information from someone. And those papers were at least two years old. Maybe I should just be celebrating the fact that none of it was true, but I had many unanswered questions.

  Trina sensed my anxiety and tried to ease my concerns. But I could tell she was uneasy too and had issues about that paperwork. I should have never let you see how relieved I was. It was then you knew. I did have doubts. I wasn’t one hundred percent about the DNA thing. The difference was I didn’t care. My love for you wasn’t going to be dictated by some fucking test. It didn’t matter to me. I never wanted to share that with you, because I thought you’d see me differently. In fact, I never told anyone, because I knew even my own family would think I was morally wrong.

  As we left the lab to go out to lunch for some much-needed R&R, we were approached, again, by the cryptic nurse. She shuffled all of us into another room and pulled the blinds. Honestly, I couldn’t take any more… and now things were about to get really complicated.

  ~22~

  The nurse, Celia, sat us all down and decided to tell us a story. A non-fiction, a real page-turner. A revelation. She was my aunt. My father’s sister and evidently close friends with my mother. She knew everything. She’d known about the abuse. She was a goddamned nurse and she knew about the fucking abuse. I was so angry. Hell, I was beyond angry. Bad enough my mother screwed around, but here was yet someone else who turned a blind eye to everything.

  Then the bombshell came. I wasn’t your brother. Trina was your sister. It was true my mother and your dad had an affair. But I ha
dn’t been the result. Trina had. And my father, in one of his drunken stupors, had come to the conclusion I wasn’t his. And my mother never denied it; she wanted to protect Trina, your dad’s child. I wasn’t so lucky. I’d been born into a life of pain because of a deception. Of course, I wouldn’t have wished it for my sister. I’d suffered and been scarred because of a legacy of lies.

  Oh, Ryan, you were so angry. You grabbed my hand so tightly for a moment I thought you’d broken my fingers. I think you wanted to physically hurt Celia. At that point, pretty much all of us wanted to fuck her up.

  You demanded we confront my mother. I told you no. Then you turned your frustration on me. You had to understand my mother was sick. You’d been away for a long time, and you had no idea. She wasn’t normal; something snapped a long time ago. I wasn’t going to be responsible for destroying what little she had left mentally.

  I reached down and pressed a kiss to your bite marks. I needed you to be calm. We couldn’t change the past, and truly, if it led me to be here with you, I was okay with it. I’d go through hell and back as long as you were my reward. All I cared about right now was that our love was still intact and we’d survived a severe trauma. We had a chance to get past this and make it. You were still mine. Today, we were gifted, baby. You got a sister. And I got you. I’d say we won this round.

  ~23~

  “Shea. Shea. I need you to move. Go. You can’t be in here right now.”

  All of a sudden, I’m aware of alarms beeping, nurses, and two doctors. I’d dozed off for just a moment, and even through my grogginess, I see the room filling with people and noise.

  “Shea, please. You need to go. We have to prep Ryan. The baby is in distress. Your wife is in trouble.” Lynne speaks as she attempts to prod me toward the door.

  I hear the doctor shout to give her several medications. I stall at the door, turning toward Lynne. “It’s too early,” I whisper. “It’s too soon.”

  “We don’t have a choice. If it isn’t done now, we could lose them both.” Lynne speaks softly. “We won’t be doing a C-section. It’s too dangerous. She’s going to have to deliver him vaginally.”

  I stop dead in my tracks at the door. “No. The doctor said C-section. She’s not even awake,” I spit out as I feel my gut clench and my jaw shake.

  “It will be all right, Shea. Don’t panic. Let us do what we have to. We just gave Ryan some meds to stimulate labor. We’re going to move her to one of the ORs.” Lynne tosses a look behind her shoulder, then back at me. “Let me call Trina or Quinn. I don’t want you alone.”

  “I want to be in the delivery room. I promised her I’d always be with her for the births.”

  Lynne shakes her head as she grabs my hand. “Shea, not this time. It’s too complicated. I need you to be strong for her and your son. Now let me call your sister.”

  I nod as she squeezes past me. I follow behind. I feel like I’m in a state of nightmare. I always knew deep within me this could happen, but I’d never thought it would. I’d always held out hope. A miracle. Divine intervention. Now there was a laugh. Is God punishing me for something I did? If that’s true, why her? Why my son? Because God is truly the only one who knows the depth of my love for Ryan. He knows taking the one thing in my life that means anything would decimate me.

  Ryan’s bed moves past me as they push it toward the operating room. Lynne has them stop for a moment so I can see her. “I love you, Ryan, more than my life. I need you and our son with me. I’ll be waiting for you both, baby,” I murmur as I squeeze her hand.

  She looks so pale. I didn’t notice it until now, or maybe I’ve been ignoring it. But everything is now screaming critical. When I’d been with her during Holly’s birth, it had been hard. On both of us. Ryan had a rough go of it. There were difficulties, and we were warned due to her age and other female issues, another baby might be complicated. But Ryan chose to ignore the warnings. She wanted another child. She wanted this.

  I should have gotten a vasectomy. I did this. How in the hell is she going to have a baby while in a coma on a vent? This might kill her or the baby or both. And if she wakes up to find Riley didn’t survive, it will be too much for her. She wanted so much to give me a son. I did want a huge family. This is my doing. If anything happens, it will be my fault.

  Trina and Quinn finally show up. His mom is watching Holly. I have a feeling it will be a long night. Quinn gets all of us coffee. Mine tastes bitter. The way I feel is emotionally infecting my coffee.

  “She’ll be all right, Andrew. I just know it,” Trina says, clasping my hand.

  I pull away and slump in the chair. I know I’m acting like an immature brat, but I don’t care. I tried to be an adult, a husband, and a father for over two months. Ten weeks of hell. Now I could lose them both. Will she blame me? Will I lose her because of this? Guilt eats away at me, because if one lives, I want it to be my wife. I really am a vile person and a poor excuse for a father, because my brain cannot commit to both. It’s making me choose. Analyzing every possibility. The lack of sleep and food is making me manic. Currently, I’m not fit to be a husband and definitely not a father.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Lynne comes out and tells us it will be soon. The medications took longer than expected. In less than thirty minutes, I have a son. Riley is transferred to the NICU because he’s premature and his lungs aren’t fully developed. He’ll be on a vent for a few days, than a C-pap. They won’t let me see Ryan yet. Lynne says there was excessive bleeding and recovery will be slow. As she gowns me to go see my son, she assures me I can see Ryan after they clean up and situate her back in the room.

  I read somewhere that you’re never fully prepared the first time you look into your son’s eyes. It’s like a reflection of yourself. When I peer into the incubator and see him, my heart lodges in my throat. He’s so tiny. He is beautiful. A perfect miniature version of Ryan and me. He has my mouth and chin, but I swear he looks exactly like his mother. A full crown of dark hair with jewel eyes so green they pierce my soul. They have him on a vent, which makes him appear even more fragile. I put two of my fingers through one of the openings and wrap them around his small fingers. He has a mighty grip for one so little.

  “You want to hold him?” the nurse asks. “We have to be careful, and I’ll have to stay next to you because of the vent.”

  I put my head down and nod because I’m overcome with emotion. I anticipate a sob. My heart is literally thumping as she hands me my son, making sure the breathing tube stays connected to the vent. He’s too small to have these health issues.

  He smells like talc as I cradle him in my arms. The nurse pulls a chair close to his incubator and directs me to sit. I place him along my chest and gently rock him. Riley is the size of one of Holly’s baby dolls. My insides churn with emotions. I have so many conflicting thoughts. How do I care for my son and my daughter and still have time for my wife? How do I be a parent and raise my children without their mother? What if she never wakes up? What if I’m not doing the right thing by her or the kids? I’m not prepared for this.

  Fuck. I am so sorry, Ryan, because I’m not who you thought I was. I’m a goddamn imposter.

  “I’ll be right here. Take as long as you want. It’s good for you to bond with him this early,” the nurse says as she pulls another chair next to mine.

  “Oh, Riley, I can’t wait until your mom sees you,” I coo to my son. “And your older sister. You’re a lucky little man. You’re going to be so loved.”

  I close my eyes as I rock him back and forth. I say a small prayer that my wife wakes up to hold her son. I need a break. Just a tiny one. Do this one thing for me and I will never ask for anything ever again. I swear. I’ll be a greatest father and the best husband ever. I can’t possibly love her any more. Ryan is my everything. She’s the one thing that sustains me. There are times, like right now, I need her guidance and strength. We are powerful as a team, but without her, I feel helpless. Is it wrong to be this dependent on one pers
on?

  I love others. Trina. I even love my mother. Even after all she’s done, I do love her. Not out of obligation because you should love your parent, but because she gave me life. I think in some insignificant way, she did the best she could. Even before my father began beating me, there was never any kind of affection in our family. Honestly, Trina and I didn’t begin to have a loving relationship until after I moved out. Our detachment was mutual. The family I was born into was void of emotion. I never witnessed any warmth or compassion. I’m sure when I was younger, I thought of him as my father. But once I had Mr. Chase in my life, I think I knew for the first time what real caring was. He treated me like the father I was supposed to have instead of the one I got.

  With Ryan, it’s different. There will never be words penned, music played, or art painted that can portray the love I have for her. God, she saved me. Now I need to save her, and I fucking don’t know how. Right now, I feel worthless and empty inside. I have no idea how to be a husband or a father. I truly loathe myself for giving myself this self-imposed pity party. When she needs me the most, I let her down.

  I should be taking care of my daughter—being a father. Instead, there are hard decisions I’m going to have to make for the future. I refuse to have my children raised as I was, in some dysfunctional environment. The one thing I can do for Ryan is make sure our kids are brought up in a loving and well-balanced home.

  Fuck, I truly am a worthless piece of shit—a coward. And she will hate me. But I’m doing this for Holly and Riley. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and being in an emotional rich and stable environment will be the best for them.

  There is no love if you’re not in the house, baby. I’m not able to love them enough for both of us. They need you, Ryan. I need you, baby.