The Reason I Breathe

by CORY CYR

  You were so offended. So adamant. You didn’t say the words outright, but I knew. There was no way you were pregnant and you had no intentions of ever being so. You didn’t want a child. You didn’t want one with me. You said you loved me, and had said previously you saw us in the future. Fucking childless.

  I saw us down the line married with kids. That was my dream. One we obviously didn’t share. I was disappointed. You tried to comfort me by apologizing. But you’d already said it, and there was no taking it back. I tried to explain it to you again. That for me, this was forever. For me, you were it. I told you directly I was all in. But I couldn’t be in this by myself.

  You’re all I ever wanted. I could never see myself with anyone else. In truth, even if you’d never come back, I would have been a man whore for the rest of my life. Whenever I thought about the future, it had always been you. It was never a blank canvas. It was always your face. I begged you to quit sabotaging this relationship before we even had a chance. We had enough hurdles—you didn’t need to be one of them.

  ~26~

  Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t wait. I thought about it for months. In truth, babe, I’d been thinking about marrying you since I was eight. A life with you. That was my wish. Sure, growing up, there was the ever-hopeful fantasy about having sex with you and making you fall passionately in love with me. But really, it was about fulfilling my vow to your dad. Honestly, I’d made up my mind the minute I saw you standing at his grave. I think I’ve always known sharing a life with you would be eventual, because it had always been my objective.

  I was terrified to ask you. You made me believe it wasn’t what you wanted, it would never happen, and it wasn’t what you envisioned for us. I was going to change your mind.

  I looked all over Fairbanks for a ring. Damn, nothing pleased me. I almost felt like a chick. Who knew I could be so fixated on finding the most beautiful stone, the right cut, and the perfect band? It had to be jaw dropping and exquisite like the woman I planned to give it to. I wanted the ring to be a reflection of how much your love meant to me. It had to symbolize all you were in my eyes. I’d taken off work one day and flown to Anchorage. After a five-hour search, I found the ring; it was unique and truly represented us.

  Valentine’s Day was a week away. I planned to take you to a high-end restaurant with the gift certificate Trina had given me, then Nasty’s. I had my proposal planned for after the bar. I wanted you to be surprised. I didn’t want you to know I’d booked a weekend stay at a bed and breakfast where we could make love while watching the aurora borealis. The ring box sat snuggly in my pocket. I was itching to ask you. You’ll never know how much I wanted to give it to you. I wished I’d waited.

  * * *

  You always had a knack for wearing outfits that drove me insane, not that I minded you driving me crazy—sexually. But Jesus, Ryan, the clothes you decided to wear out in public. Maybe it was a New York thing or maybe I was possessive, but the thought of another man staring at what was mine… It made me want to commit homicide. Going out for Valentine’s was no exception. Fuck, you could piss me off. I’d already packed the goodies you’d bought at the porn shop in the Bronco for our weekend. Did I ever tell you how utterly hot it was that my woman shopped for us in an adult toy store?

  I came in our bedroom, bearing flowers, only to find you dressed in another fuck-me outfit. Holy hell. Your pants were so tight I could tell you weren’t wearing panties. Ugh! I mean really, babe, I could see the contours of your pussy and ass cheeks. Not that it didn’t make me want to lick you through those tight black jeans, but I didn’t want anyone else daydreaming about doing that.

  Then there was the fucking shirt. Damn, you might as well have gone without. It was like staring through freshly washed windows. Totally transparent, and you wore a sexy black bra. I could see your tattoo.

  Boots. Always boots. Fuck-me shoes. You were trying to make me insane. Okay, for a moment I drifted. I’d packed some lingerie you had, and I envisioned those boots with that outfit. I’d also packed the body paints you’d purchased. Hell, I was no Picasso, but I had every intention of creating a masterpiece—with my tongue. My dick went hard in two seconds. You were killing me here.

  I was perplexed. You knew tonight was about us, yet you wanted the entire world to see your body. I’ll admit I never had that reaction toward any other female I dated. I enjoyed my women in the past dressing slutty. But not you. It was as though you were testing me. Daring me would be a better word. Because I was ready to forget V-day and stay right here in our newly remodeled bedroom and propose properly, then fuck you all night without mercy.

  After much debate, you let me adorn you with a heavy winter coat. Granted, there wasn’t much argument, it was ten degrees outside, and I wanted that outfit covered. If I had my way, you’d be wearing that coat the entire evening.

  The restaurant was warm and romantic as hell. I wanted to wait until we arrived at the bed and breakfast. Yeah, babe, that was the initial plan. I thought about asking you under the northern lights. I wanted my proposal to be one you would always remember.

  You and I had decided after the debacle at both Thanksgiving and Christmas that maybe holidays were unlucky for us. I never thought about that until after. If I had known what would come, we’d never have gone to the bar. I wished I’d stuck with the original arrangements for the night. I should have waited. It was my fault—my undoing. I would have never told you I didn’t need to know. I’d never have assured you with as long as you love me. I was a liar. Why didn’t I just wait? Why did I decide to do this at the bar? Idiot!

  The proposal was a train wreck. I could blame Carrie. Or even myself. But I chose to make you one hundred percent responsible. There were so many memories spinning in my head. The ones of you scared and sobbing. The times I told you your past didn’t matter. I’d pretended your secret was New York had been so difficult you had to become a prostitute, or I thought maybe you starred in porn. But married? Am I the most fucked-up man on the planet to say I would rather you’d confessed to being in porn?

  When Carrie blurted out what you’d been hiding, my brain couldn’t comprehend the words. I could not wrap my head around you belonging to another man. My heart wouldn’t let me believe it. In one brief instance, you crushed me beyond repair.

  Can I bare my soul to you, Ryan? It still plagues me. I hate the fact that you loved another man enough to marry him. It ate away at me for the longest time. Even when I forgave you and finally became your husband, it still gnawed at me. I’d made this fictitious fairy tale that I was the one. I was the only man you’d ever loved. You told me you never loved Garrison, not the way you loved me. And I believed you. I truly did. But the thought of him inside you… it made me physically sick. It spun my guts like our new Vita-mixer.

  I’ll always share the blame; you know that. I pretended that being oblivious and sweeping it under a rug was better than any truth you had to confess. I should have allowed you to tell me. I might have been able to accept it. But after all the difficulties we’d endured, in my mind, I felt betrayed at that moment. Used. Played. I got so infuriated. I had to leave the bar; I never wanted you to see that side of me. The one I inherited from my father. I took Carrie with me because I wanted to hurt you. Gouge out your heart as you just did to me.

  Carrie and I ended up going by the house so I could grab some clothes and Pandora. I literally couldn’t think where to go. I had no apartment to go to, and I certainly wasn’t going to involve my sister and Quinn. Why should two Valentine nights be ruined? Carrie tried to convince me to go to her place. I was too pissed off. I was frustrated and angry with you, and I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I was likely to make a grave mistake. We ended up at my mother’s home. The house hadn’t been sold yet, which in retrospect might have been a good thing since I probably would need a place to live.

  No matter what you think, I never slept with Carrie that night. She wanted to. She tried. She kissed me and fondled me through my pants,
but I pushed her away. I probably should have told you that before you forgave her. After the fifth shot of Daniels, I sent her home. I was afraid between my intoxication and rage, I might do something. Something I could never take back. After I shoved her out the door, I fumbled with the ring box. I sat on the sofa and began pouring my sixth shot. I think I stared at those diamonds for hours.

  I cried. I’d never been one for the crying thing—too girly. But I’ve come to realize tears are a way to relieve the anguish and sometimes hostility. Does it change anything? Fuck no. Of course not. I still loved you. Nothing would ever change that, but I felt cheated. Like some other man got there before me. It bothered me so much I drank myself into a stupor. Fuck, babe, I have no idea why I’m even bringing this up. Maybe I just want a clear conscience.

  I was a fucked-up mess. I woke the next morning with a hangover from hell and one royally pissed-off cat. After I fed Pandora and showered, I went over to see Trina. When she opened the door, I could tell by her face she already knew. She’d talked to you. I didn’t even need confirmation. My own sister had known everything. She knew I was being deceived. I swept past her and decided to talk to Quinn instead.

  It’s not as if we were “bros,” but he was all I currently had. I reluctantly told him what happened. He appeared shocked when I told him I proposed. I was equally surprised when he confessed to knowing about Garrison too. Jesus, baby, did you tell everyone? Was there anyone you left out? Oh yeah—me.

  I didn’t know if I could get past this. I’d abandoned you at the bar, and Quinn was currently giving me hell for that. I realize I should have been more of a man. But how was I supposed to take it, babe? I had proposed. I’d put my heart out for everyone to see, just to find out you were already married. I knew you were sorry, and I forgave you a long time ago. But it hurt so fucking bad in that moment And I had so much rage, I had no choice but to walk away. It was the first time I’d ever wished for a do-over.

  I want a do-over, Ryan. I don’t think I loved you enough. I’m not done yet. I have this vision of us sitting in rocking chairs with grandchildren. I don’t give a shit if you get there first. I’ll proudly sit next to you. My place in this world is beside you. I almost lost you once; I’m not any more ready now then I was before. You’re all I have, all I need, and all I want. If you hear me, sweetheart, open your eyes.

  §

  I lean forward, resting my head on her thighs as I watch the machine breathe for her. I don’t know if she hears me or not. There are so many chapters of our life still unwritten.

  ~27~

  I found out via Quinn, who heard it from Trina, that you’d gotten a job. I still wasn’t speaking to my sister, but Quinn and I were having some male-bonding moments. I decided to live in my mother’s house until I found another place. In the meantime, he was helping me with audio hookups and cables. I found it amusing he’d talked you into applying for a job at a charm school.

  Not that I was eavesdropping, but I’d accidentally overheard a conversation between him and Trina. You are the love of my life, babe, but charm school? Okay, you are charming; I’ll say that. But the shit that comes out of your mouth… Let us agree sometimes you have no filter.

  You appeared to be getting your life together. A new job and a car. At least you weren’t running. I never asked for intricate details regarding your husband. I didn’t want to know, and Trina and Quinn weren’t offering. So we never had that conversation. You and your husband were a taboo subject. With all the positive changes in your life, I was beginning to think you were better off without me anyway. This wasn’t the case for me. I was miserable. And lonely. And horny. But my stupid pride wouldn’t let me give in.

  I did decide to go talk to you one night. I had no reason. I just missed you. A conversation wasn’t going to change anything. It was not allowing you to speak that caused this. The entire scenario made me angry when I thought about it. I was prepared for a fight even before I got to your house. The five minutes it took to get there, I’d already geared up for a confrontation. Then you opened the door.

  I still held my frown, but the way you looked and smelled… God, it almost made me want to forgive you on the spot. I felt ravenous. All I hoped for was the slightest touch from you. It was so overwhelming when I saw you; I almost wanted to forget everything and take you in the doorway. At least that’s how I saw it in my head. That’s not the way it turned out. I saw your cheeks blush and I knew you were as heated as I was.

  But I continued to brood. I could feel my face go taut and a ticking in my cheek. No matter how much I wanted you physically right then, my brain screamed about how you betrayed me. How you had a husband. How stupid and immature I must have looked proposing to you. It consumed me. I was like a dog with a bone—I couldn’t let go.

  I tried to make small talk, but that made things worse. I knew you were getting agitated. I finally just confronted you and demanded to know why you never told me. Oh, I already knew why—because I was an idiot. I knew damn well you’d tried, only to be shut down time after time. I attempted to make excuses. If you truly wanted me to know, you would have found a way. I threw it all in your face. I even accused you of lying about your feelings for me. I was such a bastard.

  I wanted you to tell me about your husband. I wanted to know about Garrison. You endeavored to turn the tables on me by bringing up Carrie. I had to know if you loved him. You never said you didn’t. Only that you loved me more. You told me so many things then. Things I didn’t want to hear. That he hurt you. That fucking prick hit you. You had run out of desperation and fear. You’d come back here to escape someone causing you pain. Yes, you came to Alaska out of necessity, but you stayed because of me.

  I realized in that moment I shouldn’t have come. I had so much fury building up inside me that I wanted to punch a hole through the wall. I couldn’t imagine you being abused as I was, and the thought of some guy laying his hands on you made me psychotic.

  I didn’t know it then, but I do now. The same reason I tried to keep the details of my abuse from you is why you didn’t tell me about yours. There were things in our past that scarred us so bad you never wanted to relive it.

  I had no idea what I thought I would gain by coming over. You were married and getting a divorce. I wasn’t sure if my self-esteem could take the hit. There was a time when I would have taken any crumb you offered. But now it was all or nothing. What we’d built had been tainted by the knowledge that you belonged to someone else. My feelings bordered on obsession. I was being unreasonable, Ryan. I just couldn’t get past another man getting there before me.

  I wanted us to have all our firsts together. What I’d forgotten was the age difference. I deluded myself into believing at age thirty-four, I would be your first love—that none had come before me. I never allowed myself to acknowledge while I was an eight-year-old boy, you’d been a twenty-one-year-old woman. You were right to believe I was too young. I was. I would have given anything if I’d been the man that understood you. Forgave you and been the kind of man you deserved.

  I wished I hadn’t come. I knew it before I left my house. I was beginning to think I’d never get past this. I couldn’t get the picture of another man fucking you out of my head and, along with that image, knowing he’d physically hurt you. I deserved this. I earned this desolate, hollow feeling I had in my chest.

  When I left you, I drove around. I was confused and had no idea what I should do. Maybe I should just go back and forgive you. We could get past this bump in the road; we could figure it all out. But I knew I couldn’t. This wasn’t a bump in the road; this was a fucking bridge collapse. Our foundation had been badly damaged, and I didn’t know if it was beyond repair. I was too self-centered and pigheaded to see the bigger picture. I’d waited for you most of my life. I had you and I loved you. We hit a rocky patch—big time. And what did I do? Stomp away like a spoiled little boy who couldn’t stand the thought of someone else playing in his sandbox.

  Baby, I made so many mistakes. I wi
sh I could take them all back. I pray you can hear me. I want you to know that loving you is my greatest achievement. The fact that you love me back made it all worthwhile. Because I thought you never would. I expected the age difference would crush us and you’d never get past the entire babysitting ordeal. I never believed I’d be good enough for you or that you’d really want me.

  When you told me you loved me, in that moment, I could honestly see us living the dream I’d had most of my life. You’ve given me everything you have, and I will always feel, no matter what I accomplish, it will never be enough. It will always seem unequal. I should be giving you more. You made me who I am, and spending the rest of our lives together will make me who I’m meant to be.

  ~28~

  It seemed like we were apart forever. I was so depressed. I was still pissed off at Trina. My own sister kept shit from me. I knew where her allegiance rested. You two were always best friends and now blood. Of course she would take your side. Even though she tried to bring you up occasionally, you were a subject I wasn’t willing to discuss. Talking about you made the suffering worse. There were times I wished I could shut off my brain so I didn’t have to think about you. The truth is there was no relief. Even when I tried to close my eyes, you invaded my sleep.

  Carrie took advantage of this situation. She pretended to be my best buddy, all the while trying to get in my pants. Jesus, I do sound like whiney girl. Maybe after all my whoring, this was payback. I knew what she was after. She wanted me. Our breakup was the perfect way for her to insinuate herself back into my life. I had no idea how she found your husband, but she must have spent many weeks piecing together your life. Between her personal computer skills and hacker friends, she was able to get all the damaging information she needed. It must have been quite an accomplishment for her once she had all the facts that could eliminate you. Carrie had found a bomb. And she was just waiting for the perfect moment to detonate it. It never occurred to her the fallout would hurt me. Or maybe it had and this was retaliation for me rejecting her.