Breathing For The First Time (20 page)

This is exactly why I don’t like fighting. I don’t know how to fight with someone. I think a relationship is made out of conversations and being together, not fights and deceit.

Of course there’s no deceit going on with us, but I feel like fighting leads to it. I am not cut out to be in a relationship where people fight more than they enjoy each other. Friends of my parents were like that and it made me crazy. They would fight all the time, make fun of each other in public, and were downright cruel. It made me sad that they felt they were better off together. I’m not going to live like that.

To clear my head I decide to go out for a walk. I need to get out of my apartment, and just be in the city.

The city air does nothing for my lungs, but The Horseshoe, the original part of University of South Carolina campus, and most beautiful part in my opinion, is close. I climb the hill and cross the two blocks to the entrance of The Horseshoe.

I walk past the old iron gates and step onto the uneven brick walkway. The setting never escapes me as I feel like I’ve crossed into the past when I’m on The Horseshoe. The grassy area in the center is crowded, especially for a Sunday in summer. There are groups of people playing frisbee, a smattering of sunbathers, and the usual gathering of tourists walking the grounds.

The ancient trees force the bricks in my path to roll over like an old dog waiting for the late afternoon sun to warm his belly. I sidestep the worst of the bricks and let my gaze drift to the buildings surrounding the grassy area.

The most coveted of dorms surround The Horseshoe, settled among the admissions office, the President’s office, and the Visitor’s Center. Rutledge Chapel, at the far end, has its doors thrown open, waiting for the afternoon service to begin. I cross the path to the other side of The Horseshoe and walk back toward the iron gates.

Before I reach the gates, I turn down one of the crossing paths to walk back to the south side. I pass the buildings and settle into my favorite seat on campus. It’s a hidden garden behind one of the buildings. There are more dorms further behind, but this garden doesn’t have a pass through. The bench here is an old wrought iron bench that looks like it’s been here since the campus opened in 1801.

I sit in the quiet garden, enjoying the peace in the middle of the city and wonder if this is what it’s like in Central Park. I’ve never been to New York City, but I always imagined this bench gave me an idea of it. Then I figure if this bench is my favorite part of Columbia, I’m probably not missing much in New York City.

The sun drops a little lower while I’m parked on my bench. Even though Columbia is a good city, I still don’t like being out alone at night. I get up from my seat and head back through the iron gates, transported back to the present.

The downhill walk makes it easier, and therefore faster. I end up at my apartment in a few minutes, plenty of time before the sun sets. I need to figure out something for dinner but am not in the mood to cook tonight. Maybe I can order in.

I turn my key in my lock and push the door before I register that there are noises coming from inside my apartment. I jump when I cross the threshold and see Tyler in my kitchen, and something delicious billowing its scent toward me.

Tyler turns when he notices me standing in the doorway and smiles at me. That one look lifts all the tension of the last week from my shoulders and tells me it was a fight, and not a break-up.

I close the door behind me and lock it. A part of me thinks I’m dreaming, but I know I’m not. I go into my bedroom and empty my pockets onto my dresser. I walk to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. The afternoon sun didn’t let up on the heat and I’m sweating.

I return to the kitchen, trying to figure out why Tyler’s here. I gave him a key before I went to Charleston, and I’m okay with him being here, but I’m really confused.

I stand in the doorway of the kitchen, trying to absorb what is going on. Tyler has three pots cooking on the stove and the oven is on. He has the TV on in the living room which fills the entire apartment with sound.

I watch Tyler, moving carefully between all the action. It’s clear he’s been here for a while. There is an empty beer in the sink and a fresh one next to him on the counter. His dark brown cargo shorts hang off his hips like the chocolate fountain on the cruise ship. He’s wearing a light blue shirt that I know without looking matches his eyes. His dark hair is still damp from the shower he must have taken right before he came over. He’s barefoot and I can’t stop myself from smiling when I think this is a good picture, my boyfriend barefoot and in the kitchen. We won’t mention the pregnant part.

I tell Tyler I’m going to take a quick shower. His eyes meet mine and he says to take my time, he’ll be here when I get out.

I shower quickly, letting the cool water bring my body temperature down after my walk in the summer heat. When I get out, I find a pair of black cotton Gamecocks shorts and a garnet tank top. I pull a comb through my hair before tying it into a braid over my shoulder.

I emerge from the bedroom just as Tyler is depositing plates on the table. The TV is off and Tyler lit all the candles in the room. The soft glow makes everything very romantic. I sit at the table in front of my bowl and look down to see angel hair pasta with shrimp, a white wine and butter sauce, and loads of vegetables like broccoli, tomatoes, capers, onions, and zucchini.

My stomach growls in appreciation of my yummy smelling dinner and Tyler and I dive into our food. I eat a few bites in silence, enjoying that it feels normal, even though it’s not normal right now.

My curiosity finally gives in and I set my fork down in my bowl. “What’s going on, Ty?”

He looks at me, smiling, “I thought you might be hungry. I didn’t want to eat alone.”

He says it so matter of fact, like he’s telling me he breathed all day today. I catch the glint in his eye and I know he’s trying to get me talking. I’m willing to take the bait since I want things to be okay between us.

“Okay, well then, thanks. I was hungry, and I didn’t feel like cooking.”

Two can play at this game. I pick up my fork again and keep eating, enjoying every bite. I wonder if he’s taking cooking lessons without me because this is awesome.

After dinner I clean up the plates and put the leftovers in the fridge. Tyler helps, silently cleaning pans while I put things away, and then grabs two more beers before we go to the living room.

I can’t take it anymore, and the smile on his face tells me he knew I would crack. “What is going on? Radio silence for a week and now you show up and cook me dinner. I’m happy to see you, but I need to know what’s going on.”

Tyler lifts my hand into his and tucks his knee between us on the couch so he can face me. He looks as worn out as I’ve felt for the last week. It’s nice to know this has been hard on him, too.

“I’m here to apologize,” he begins. I start to interrupt, but he continues, “I was wrong to get so upset with you. I was still reeling from the whirlwind weekend in Louisiana and losing the baby, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t deserve it.”

He can’t let me off so easy. It’s not fair to him to just accept that it was his fault. I know I should have called him. “I’m to blame, too. I’m sorry I never returned your calls. It was shitty of me. And you had every right to be upset last weekend. I can’t imagine what you went through, and I should have been there for you.”

“Thank you. So, do you want to watch a movie?” he asks. He switched gears fast.

“Seriously, that’s it? You’re okay with just that.”

Tyler squeezes my hand and brushes his lips against mine. “Yes, that’s it. I missed you, I was a jerk, and I’m sorry. You’re sorry too, you said so. I want to be with you Brooke. And I want to put this behind us.”

I exhale the breath I didn’t know was trapped in my lungs. “Okay. I’m good with that too. But one thing? If we fight again, can we talk about it? I don’t like going a whole week without talking to you. I know not talking to you is what started all this, but I missed you. If we are going to be a couple, I want to be able to talk through things.”

The corners of his mouth turn up and Tyler nods. “Yeah, we can talk. I should have called you back this week. Even if it was to tell you I needed more time. I’m still not over losing the baby, and I know there will be times when I need you there for me, but right now, I just want to be us again.”

I smile and nod. Tyler turns on the TV and finds a movie to watch. He pulls me close against him and it finally feels normal again.

Tyler grabs the remote and presses the mute button. I turn my head to look at him. “One more thing before normal can go on. I love you, Brooke.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I squeeze them shut, remembering this moment. I open my eyes again, seeing his beautiful face through blurry vision and say, “I love you, Tyler.”

His smile is clear, even through the tears. He leans down to me, sealing our mouths together. Tyler’s tongue tangles with mine and I reach up to his neck. He lifts me easily and carries me to the bedroom. Forget the movie, our bodies meet, and now we’re normal.

EPILOGUE - TEN MONTHS LATER

Tyler

Life couldn’t get any better than this. I really thought I was happy a year ago, but now, it’s simply blissful.

The sun is peeking through the curtains and I glance at the clock. I roll over and wrap my arm around a naked Brooke, nuzzling her neck. She moans against the intrusion and rolls onto her back. I lie my head under her arm and continue kissing her neck.

She smiles and tells me to stop, pushing me away half-heartedly. I roll back to her and climb on top of her. She reaches up and pulls me to her, filling my mouth with a passionate kiss. I slide inside her and we make love quickly, sleep still dancing around us.

Brooke slips out of bed and I watch her as the walks to the bathroom. The shower turns on a moment later and I wait until I hear the curtain close. Quickly I pull her gown from the closet and lie it on the bed, placing the small box on top.

I go to the bathroom and climb in the shower with her, my heart racing. We wash quickly, knowing we’ll be late if we don’t hurry. I turn off the water when we’re clean and hand Brooke her towel. I wrap my own towel around me and walk to the bedroom to get dressed. Brooke pulls her hair up into a twist within her towel.

She walks into the bedroom. I’ve just pulled on my khaki pants and I watch her as she goes to the dresser. She slips panties over her legs then covers her delicious breasts with her bra. She walks to the closet and pulls out the dress she planned to wear today. She steps into the dress and walks over the me so I can zip it up.

I guide her to the edge of the bed, gently so she doesn’t suspect anything. She lifts her hair so I can zip her dress and drops her chin to her chest. I hear her gasp and know she sees the box.

I drop to my knee once her dress is zipped. Brooke turns around, tears threatening to spill. When she sees me down on my knee, her hand covers her mouth and the tears trace lines down her cheeks.

I reach up and take her hand in mine. I’ve practiced for this, but I never knew I’d be so nervous.

“Brooke...” I take a deep breath. “The first day we met I knew you were someone special. I knew my life wouldn’t be complete unless you were a part of it. When you agreed to go out with me, my world started to fall into place. I know we’ve had a few rough times, but you’ve stood by me, and I’ve stood by you. We are better together than we could ever be apart. And I want to spend the rest of my life at my best. But I can only do that if you agree to be by my side. Brooke, will you marry me?”

She drops the hand covering her mouth and I see the smile that makes my world come alive. Brooke nods her head and I stand up, pulling her into my arms. I kiss her, holding her body close. We collapse onto the bed behind her.

After our second round of the day, my new fiancée and I finally manage to get dressed. We walk to the Colonial Life Arena for graduation. Our families and friends are planning to meet us after the ceremony so we duck in the back with the other graduates.

Brooke and I find Jen and our other classmates. We all stand together, talking about plans that we’ve already discussed countless times. Jen notices Brooke’s ring and screams. They jump up and down, and dance around. Jen hugs me and congratulates us both before announcing our engagement to the rest of our classmates.

I know how lucky we are. Of the sixty people in our program, only a handful have found someone. Brooke and I not only found each other, but found jobs where we can be together.

Brooke decided she wants to work in a school with kids. She’s secured a position at one of the elementary schools in the Charleston area, about twenty minutes from Paige and Dante. As for me, I was incredibly lucky and managed a job with the woman’s hospital, helping pregnant women, new mothers, and those dealing with the loss of a child.

In many ways, everything that’s happened over the last year got me the job. During my interview, the doctors asked me why I felt I was a good candidate for a position helping women overcome depression and loss.

When I shared my story about losing the baby, as well as my mother’s history, the doctors felt I was in touch with the reality of what I would be facing. I know helping others will allow me the chance to heal, but also to give hope to women who feel hopeless.

And it’s giving me the chance to follow my dreams, and help others.

Graduation passes quickly. Thankfully the speaker is engaging and gives great insight. Brooke and I sit together, holding hands, and I catch Brooke checking out her ring more than once. As we walk toward the stage, she turns and kisses me. I watch Brooke cross the stage, and then follow her.

I know, without a doubt, that I will follow this woman, wherever she goes, for the rest of my life. And nothing will make me happier.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mary E. Thompson grew up getting lost in the world of fiction, but kept her feet firmly planted on the ground. After a responsible career in chemical engineering, she finally realized she would only be happy if she were writing, so she started. There have been many moments when she thought chemical engineering was easier, but she pushed through, knowing nothing worth doing is ever easy (to paraphrase Theodore Roosevelt). Now, living out one of many dreams, Mary is happy with her life, and anxiously awaiting every moment to come with her husband and two young children.