We Only Breathe For So Long

Don't click on the Sequel's link if you don't want to spoil the last few chapters. I hope none of you click on it until this story is finished. Give yourself the benefit of surprise!

His warm, rough hands were tangled with mine. It was early morning, the breeze was soft yet icy, and Eric and I were out and about around the neighborhood to catch some sun and clear our thoughts all together.

It has been a week since my memorable fiasco. After a few days that I spend contemplating the issues found in my life, I decided it was silly of me to stay in bed while I could be out doing something of much more importance, like Eric had said before.

“Won’t you ever ask me what I was doing before the accident?” Eric asked with a husky voice, squinting his eyes to see me through the ray of sunshine that shone in my direction.

I bit my bottom lip, thinking about his question and wondering why I haven’t done such yet. It was a question that was often in my mind back when his accident happened, but since he couldn’t respond to it due to his amnesia, I let it go instead of getting paranoid with it.

“That’s a good question actually,” I chuckled. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause I forgot about it. What were you doing?” I asked.

He had one arm over my shoulder, making space for my body to fit in perfectly close to him. His gaze was ahead of us, almost at empty space, as he elaborated the answer to both of our questions. “Remember that little ice rink there was in the backyard?” I nodded my head. “I was building it for you. I was going to make a little hockey match for us, Greg and whoever else you’d want to bring.”

While speaking, he didn’t look at me. Perhaps because he was afraid of doing so or because he knew I wouldn’t react well to his response. I didn’t reply to his explanation, mostly because I felt guilty about it. Greg had been right, it was caused because of me. Out of guilt, I refrained from speaking and dropped his hands so I could cuddle with him as we walked along the sidewalk, with a smile on both of our faces.

Through the entire emotional recovery, Eric had stood by me. He had held up the boxes of tissues and managed to make me smile when I least wanted to. Him and I had gotten closer because of that. Nowadays, my bed would be the last place I’d be in. If he wasn’t at home with me, I was at his Safe Ground with him. Everything felt so easy. We worked well together.

“Lisa and Greg are coming over for lunch,” he warned me with a smirk.

“That should be interesting,” I said, trying to picture the scene that was about to unravel in our dinner table. My lips found its way to his lips, touching them softly. “It’s a great idea.”

Four days ago, Eric had asked me out. I must say, I was surprised to hear the question when it left his lips, since it all happened so fast, but I couldn’t force myself to say no. He was amazing. He was the remedy I needed to get my mind off of him.



An hour later, Greg and Lisa arrived. Greg was as casual as always with jeans and a Polo shirt while Lisa wore a gorgeous flower dress that emphasized the color of her emerald green eyes.

“Hey you guys!” I greeted them both with a hug, inviting them inside of the house.

“Where’s Asstini?” Greg asked eagerly.

Lisa laughed with a sweet and soft laughter, hating yet loving the nickname Greg had given to Eric.

“Uhh, I think he’s setting the table.”

All of us walked towards the dinning room, finding Eric and the table ready. He was sitting at the edge of the long table that filled the room that was covered in natural light escaping from the opened windows.

“Ha-hey!” Eric grinned, tackling Greg as he did the same to him. After a little punch here and there, as if they were six year-olds in family reunions, Eric greeted Lisa with a smile and returned to his sit.

I sat next to him, and Greg sat on the opposite side besides Lisa, who was facing me.

“I’ll be right back, let me get the wine,” Eric said half way through the kitchen.

I smiled, content to be in the company of good old friends. “So, how’s work?” I asked, wanting to know how that store was functioning without us.

“It’s been great,” she said through a smile, “Jess misses you and Eric dearly, and she always reminds us how you guys can come back whenever you’d want to. But it’s understandable your situation, no pressure.”

I half-heartedly smiled, considering the idea of getting my old job back. “I didn’t think I would miss that place so much, I had great memories there.”

Eric returned with an opened bottle of wine. He poured an equal amount to all of us, filling the glass half way.

“How was your trip, Lisa?” Eric asked politely.

Lisa shifted her weight from one side to another, tucking her hands under her thighs. “It was lovely, thanks.”

The table was set in a simple manner, but what mattered was the food. Since I didn’t know we’d be having visitors, Eric did all of it –from setting the table, to choosing the wine and cooking the food. He cooked well, for a guy, and he was best known for his croissants. Unfortunately, there were none in today’s menu. It was all mostly Italian food like pasta, salads, small portions of bread and a dish I didn’t recognize. The smell was divine, awakening my dormant stomach and making me realize how hungry I actually was.

The lunch went by fast. There was a bite here and there, and a few jokes and conversations in between. There wasn’t a time where silence had reigned, someone was always speaking and sharing something, even if it was a random fact that would get us going into a brand new conversation.

Since we were having such a great time, it all ended faster than I longed to. After I blinked my eyes, the scene went from eating to sleeping. Greg and Lisa had fallen asleep in each other’s arm on the couch, as we were watching an old movie on the television.

I stood up, determined to clean the table and wash the dishes. I met up with Eric before I reached the kitchen.

“I enjoyed today a lot,” he said, his gaze was tender and tranquil. He looked happy, at peace.

I smiled and nodded in agreement, “me too.”

I desired to feel the same happiness Eric managed to obtain when he was around me. But I didn’t. I liked him, I really did. He always took me back home, no matter how late or early it could have been. He’d crawl in bed with me and wait until I had fallen asleep before he returned to his own home. He made me laugh constantly because his nature was caring and thoughtful. But just because I liked him, it didn’t mean I loved him like the man who had stepped over my heart.

Sometimes, a part of me imagined Eric being him, because I missed him that much. Eric loved me. Something that he wasn’t capable of. Deep inside, I knew how wrong that was, to be with Eric mostly because I didn’t want to be alone or because I always imagined him to be him.

But I couldn’t help it. It was an automatic action. I tried multiple times to quit doing such or at least admit to myself that it was better to be alone rather than trick Eric in that way. But I couldn’t bring myself down to tell him the truth.

I just wanted to see him happy like he has been in the past few days, even if that meant that I wasn’t happy at all. One way or another, I’d still feel miserable, but being with Eric made me feel like I was doing something good towards someone. It was a good deed, but it had all the wrong intentions and motives.

After washing the monstrous pile of dirty dishes, I dried my hand with a cloth and wandered around the house in search of Eric. I found him in his office. He was reading some papers with a pen in hand. I knocked on the door softly, afraid to disturb him. He motioned his hand for me to come in.

“It’s best if I go home. I promised Angela I’d clean and organize the attic for her,” I had my hands tucked inside the back pockets of my jeans.

“Oh,” he pushed his rolling chair backwards, standing up immediately. “I’ll take you home.”

“It’s okay, I can take a cab. You can’t just leave your visitors alone, even if they’re asleep.” My comment made him chuckle and walk closer to me.

He kissed my forehead. “OK then, go safely.”

Minutes later, a cab was pulling over the sidewalk so I could enter it.

“Afternoon,” the driver smiled politely.

“Hi,” I replied. “41 Bowling Road, please.”

“Sure thing.” He got hold of the steering wheel and got back on the road, changing the radio station.

I started out of the window, the dark clouds filled with water threatened the sky and I hoped to reach home before the rain poured down.

In this position, it felt as if I were forced to think about how pathetic and sad my life was. My mind traced back to movies, during those scenes when one of the characters would be looking out of the window to perceive a dull day outside and wonder about his or her life.

Why haven’t I gotten over him? I had no doubt in my mind that by this time, he had gotten over me probably within a minute. Even though I knew he had, I still felt trapped, like I was the marionette while he controlled the strings. He had a control over me somehow, even though he was far and didn’t think about me.

I always thought that, those girls that have an asshole of a boyfriend who treat them like shit, were stupid. They always returned to their arms no matter what happened, whether they had cheated on them or committed a horrible thing against them. Only now did I understand why they always went back. They loved those assholes. No matter how mean, idiotic, or heartless they could’ve been, they would always love who they are or at least whom they thought they were.

I arrived at home around three p.m. I opened the front door, feeling the emptiness of the house haunt me. Nobody was home. They had all gone out to a family lunch in which I rejected to attend. I went to kitchen and poured myself a glass of water before I drank it in one go, making my dry throat moist again.

I went to the library next, searching for a decent and interesting book to read but I wasn’t in the mood for reading. I heard Jolie’s paws collide with the wooden floor and make a constant noise as she walked to my direction to greet me. No matter how adorable she was, I couldn’t make myself to even touch her anymore. She almost belonged to Sophie now, since she was the one who fed and walked her around the block. Jolie reminded me too much of him.

I went in search of the attic, not knowing where in the house it was located. As I explored the house, I noticed a large square line that seemed like an opening on the roof just above the hallway upstairs. I grabbed a chair, positioned it right under the square, stood on it and pulled the little handle down. Stairs unfolded itself the further I pulled the handle down. There was a hook on the floor, I hooked the handle on it, forbidding the stairs to close itself on its own will.

I looked at the square of darkness above me, wondering if I should or shouldn’t go in. Attics weren’t exactly the safest place on earth. They were dirty and scary in some unnerving way. I climbed the stairs, blinding my eyes with darkness. I tapped the walls softly, attempting to find the light switch like a blind man. But I only found a flashlight. That would make my task harder than I thought.

I looked around, observing my surroundings. There was nothing but boxes all around. I blew the dust out of the surface of the box that was closer to where I was standing. While aiming the flashlight inside of it, I found the box filled with photographs. I picked a handful of the top ones, shifting through each and every one. The photos were mixed between Angela’s graduation, her wedding pictures and some photos of Sophie as a child. I smiled at how cute she was, her blue eyes were much bigger, almost taking her entire face as she smiled at the camera as a baby.

Then, I noticed a familiar package next to it, with my name written in it in a neat, bold handwriting.