The Air He Breathes

Goodbye

“No,” I whispered, standing in the waiting room as a doctor stood in front of me.

“I’m so sorry. He didn’t make it out of surgery. We did everything we could to stop the bleeding, but we were unable to…” His lips kept moving, but I couldn’t hear him anymore. My world had just been stolen from me, and my legs gave out as I lowered myself to sit in the closest chair.

“No,” I murmured again, covering my face with the palms of my hands.

How could he be gone so fast? How could he leave me here alone?

Steven, no…

Before the surgery, I held his hand. I told him I loved him. I kissed him one last time.

How could you be gone?

The doctor walked away after telling me how sorry he was, but I didn’t care. Kathy and Lincoln showed up a few moments later, and their hearts shattered right along with mine. We stayed at the hospital for the longest time, until Lincoln said we had to leave, we had to start planning.

“I’ll meet you back at your house,” I said. “God. Emma’s at Faye’s house. Do you think you can pick her up?”

“Where are you going?” Kathy asked me.

“I’m just going to stay here for a little longer.”

She frowned. “Honey.”

“No, really, I’m fine. I’ll be over soon. Can you just…can you wait to tell her?”

Kathy and Lincoln agreed.

I stayed for hours in that waiting room, unsure what I was waiting for. It seemed that everyone in the waiting room was doing exactly that: waiting for an answer, waiting for a prayer, waiting for hope.

In the corner was an older woman crying her eyes out, completely alone, and I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. Her body was bruised, battered, as if she had just walked away from an ungodly event. Yet the pain in her stormy blue eyes was what haunted me the most. I shouldn’t have stepped into her world of waiting, but I did. I held her, and she didn’t push me away. I held her, and we fell apart together.

After some time, a nurse informed the woman that her grandson and her daughter-in-law were both out of surgery, but in critical condition. “You can see them. You can sit in their rooms, but they won’t be responsive. Just so you know. But you can hold their hands.”

“How do I…” her voice shook and tears fell. “How do I choose who to see first? How do I…?”

“I’ll sit with one of them until you can,” I offered. “I’ll hold their hand.”

She sent me to sit with her daughter-in-law. When I entered the room, a chill raced through me. The poor woman was drained of all of her color. She was almost a living ghost. I pulled up a chair beside her and took her hand into mine.

“Hi,” I whispered. “This is weird and I’m not even sure what to say. But, well, I’m Elizabeth. I met your mother-in-law and she’s super worried about you. So I need you to fight. She said your husband is on his way back from a trip, worried sick. So I need you to just keep fighting. I know it has to be hard, but keep going.” Tears fell from my eyes as I stared at the stranger who seemed so familiar to my heart. I thought about how broken I would’ve been if I didn’t get to at least hold Steven’s hand before he passed away. “Your husband is going to need you to be strong.” I leaned close to her ear and whispered, hoping my words would find her soul. “We have to make sure your husband’s okay. We have to make sure he gets to hold you. We have to make sure he can say he loves you. You can’t let go yet. Keep. Fighting.”

I felt her fingers squeeze against mine, and my stare moved to our hands.

“Ma’am?” a voice said. I turned to the door to see a nurse staring my way. “Are you family?”

“No. I just…”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I nodded once.

And I let go of her hand.

***

“He keeps leaving these Post-It notes.” I sighed, sitting on the seesaw with Faye as Emma played on the monkey bars and went down the slide. “Every now and then I find a Post-It on my window, and I just don’t know what to think about the messages. He says he still loves me and wants me, but then…nothing. I don’t know what to think.”

“He’s playing mind games, and that’s not cool. I just don’t understand why he would do some crap like that to you. Do you think he’s just being rude? Like, getting back at you for not telling him about the accident?”

“No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s been months, Liz. He hasn’t called once. He hasn’t reached out except for some random pieces of paper every now and then. That’s not normal.”

“There never was anything normal about Tristan and me.”

She pushed the seesaw down and looked up at me. “Maybe it’s time to find a new normal, then. You deserve a normal life.”

I didn’t reply, but thought maybe she was right.

I just wished the Post-Its didn’t bring me so much comfort that he might come back to me one day.

***

I just need time to figure things out. I’ll be back soon. I love you. –TC

***

Wait for me. –TC

***

Everyone was wrong about us. Just please wait for me. –TC

***

“You have purple stuff on your lips, Sam,” I said as I walked into the café for my shift. He was quick to run his hands over his mouth as I watched his cheeks redden. For the past few weeks, Matty had started tossing Sam into the kitchen for the lunch service to learn to cook the café’s menu. He seemed so happy finally doing something he loved, and it turned out he was pretty amazing at it.

“Thanks,” he said, lifting up a stack of plates to take back to the dish room. As he walked through the door, Faye walked out, and they did an awkward tango of who-gets-to-step-out-of-the-way-first.

When Faye saw me, she shouted my way, greeting me. I smirked. “Nice purple lipstick you have on, friend.”

She smiled. “Thanks! I just bought it.”

“I swear I’ve seen it before.”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I just got it last night.”

“No, I mean, I think I’ve seen it like, five seconds ago on Sam’s lips.”

Her face flushed, and she twiddled her fingers together, rushing over to me. “Oh my gosh, shit! Creepy Sam wears the same lipstick as me? I need to find myself a new color.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re so full of crap. So tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Your nickname for his you-know-what.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my gosh, Liz. We are almost thirty. Do you think we can not act like five-year-olds for one day?” The seriousness in her voice as she walked over to the counter to get a customer a cheese Danish made me wonder if she was truly growing up—until she shouted across the room, “Supersized Sam!”

I burst out laughing. “And to think, these past few months you convinced me that Sam was a creep.”

“Oh, he is. He’s a total creep. Like, he did this really creepy thing last night,” she explained, pulling out a chair at an empty table and sitting. I was still completely confused how she managed to keep her job at that place.

“What did he do?” I asked, sitting across from her. If you can’t beat them, join them.

“Well, for starters, he’s always asking me how I’m doing, which is just weird. It’s almost as if he wants to know about me.”

“Dude. Okay, that’s totally weirdo territory,” I mocked.

“Right! And then! Last night, he came over to my place, and I asked him which room he wanted to bang in, and he was all like, ‘No, I want to take you out somewhere fancy.’ Like, what? And then after dinner and drinks, he walked me up to my porch, kissed my cheek, and said he would love to take me out some other time! He didn’t even try to meet my vagina last night.”

“WHAT A CREEP!”

“I KNOW!” She paused, glancing back at the kitchen where Sam was getting started on the griddle. A tiny smile played on her lips before she turned back to me. “He’s not that creepy, I guess.”

“No, I guess not. I’m so happy he gets to work in the kitchen too. I remember him telling me how much he wanted to do that.”

“Yeah, plus, he’s just freaking amazing in there.”

“I’m surprised Matty let him cook.”

She shrugged. “He kind of had to. I blackmailed him by threatening to send the video of him dancing naked to the Spice Girls to everyone who works here unless he gave Sam a chance.”

“You’re a terrible person, Faye.” I pushed myself up from my chair and went to head back to work. “But a really great friend.”

“It’s that Scorpio in me. I love you until you do something to piss me off. Then I turn into your personal Satan.”

I laughed.

“Oh crap,” Faye shouted, leaping out of her seat, placing her hands on my shoulders, and rotating me around from facing the front windows. “Okay. Don’t panic.”

“About what?”

“Well, remember when your husband died and you disappeared for a year and then came back, but were super depressed and you started banging an asshole who turned out to not be an asshole but just a dude who was hurt because his wife and son died? And then you two like kind of fell into a weird sexlationship where you pretended you were both someone else but then one day you were like, ‘But I want you to be you and me to be me,’ so you fell in love. And then you found out that your husband was involved in his family’s deaths, and then shit got weird and the dude left town, but for some reason thought it was okay to keep leaving you Post-It notes that just left you even more confused and hurt and totally, ‘Oh my gosh, it feels like I’m PMSing for four weeks out of every month and I can’t even eat any more ice cream because my hot tears melt it every time I cry into the Ben and Jerry’s.’ Do you remember all of that?”

I blinked repeatedly. “Yes, I believe that sounds familiar. Thank you for the trip down memory lane.”

“You’re welcome. Well, okay, don’t freak out, but here’s the thing. That dude you fell in love with? He’s across the street in the voodoo shop.”

My body shot around, and I saw Tristan standing in the store with Mr. Henson. My heart skyrocketed from my chest to my throat, and I could feel my body tingling with nerves.

Tristan.

“You’re freaking out,” she said.

I shook my head. “I’m not.”

“You’re freaking out,” she repeated.

I nodded. “I am.” My voice trembled. “What is he doing here?”

“I think you should go find out,” Faye said. “You deserve an answer for all of those damn Post-It notes.”

She was right. I needed to know. I needed closure. I needed to move on by letting go of any hope that he would someday come back for me—because I was definitely still waiting.

“Matty, Liz is taking a lunch break,” Faye shouted.

“She just got here! And it’s breakfast time!” he replied.

“Fine. She’s taking a breakfast break.”

“No way. She’s working her whole shift.” Faye started humming “Spice Up Your Life” by the Spice Girls, and Matty’s face turned beet red. “Take all the time you need, Liz.”