Page 110 of Breathe Again

Zale

He covered her in the bed and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, he dropped his head into his hands, picturing the welts he’d seen and kissed on her body.

For the first time he fully acknowledged to himself that something inside his wife had broken, this was not ‘same old, same old,’ and he didn’t know how to fix it. He rubbed his hands over his face, smelling her essence on his hands, and breathed her in.

He took a deep breath, finished in the bathroom, and went back to his wife, in hopes of holding back her demons, for tonight at least.

Tomorrow he’d figure things out, starting with giving her a day to herself, to rest and recoup. He’d take Olivia out for a few hours, visit Dean, pick up something good to eat for dinner, something Mara would like, and finish off the night watching a movie, cuddled up together, the three of them, on the couch.

It was a good plan and would have gone a long way toward rebuilding her strength, if not for what happened on Monday.

I’ll Save Myself This Time

Mara

Hope is a wonderful, terrible thing.

I had it.

Hope.

When I thought the day would get better when he got home from work.

When I couldn't wait for the weekend because he’d be home.

When I believed if we just fixed the flaws in our relationship I’d be happier,

I haveit no longer.

Because it won’t be better when he gets home from work.

It won’t be better on the weekend when he’s here.

It won’t be better if we work out the flaws in our relationship, even if he wanted to.

It will never be better because the problem is alive, and it lives in me.

It is me.

And from myself there is no escape.

No escape from the endless loop of angst-filled days and the despair that fills the space where hope once existed.

And I don’t know if I want to live like this.

“Hello?”

Monday morning, nine o’clock, my cell didn’t normally ring at this hour. The screen displayed ‘private caller.’ Anyone who called me well knew I homeschooled Olivia in the mornings and waited until later to call. Barring an emergency. Or something so funny it couldn’t wait in the case of Bex and Willa, but those two always got special compensation in my life. It could be the doctor calling for Olivia, or me.

“Mara,” my mother said, her voice shaky. I hadn’t spoken to her since last Wednesday, a long time for us to go without chatting.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just have a doctor’s appointment,” she said, sniffing, “and I’m kind of worried about it. It’s for my heart.”

“There’s something wrong with your heart? When’s the appointment?” I could feel my own heart kick into high gear. I stood and paced back and forth while she spoke.

“It’s this afternoon. Three o’clock.” She sniffed again. “Do you think you could take me?”

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