Breathless (The Breathe Series Book 1) Page 12

  “Hey, what’s up, man?” Devin says to Riley, but he doesn’t speak. He just nods his head. I didn’t recognize this him.

  Breaking the awkward silence, Lyla steps in closer to me making me cringe with repugnance. “How are you?” She asks subtle.

  “I’m fine.” I swallow back the vomit.

  “Are you sure? You look a little pale.” She says, examining my skin. She reaches out to touch my forehead but I grab her arm before she could even wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” I say nastily.

  Devin clears his throat. “Nora?”

  I look over to him and Riley. Riley’s face lacks emotion while Devin’s is fixated with uneasiness. Lyla doesn’t speak, her mouth just remains open with shock. “I’m—I’m sorry. It’s the training at Apalachicola. You know, have to be prepared for whatever’s coming.” I smirk nervously, dropping her arm and she hurries back over to Riley for moral support and safety. He clutches her to his chest inconsolably but I could sense he really didn’t want to hold her close to him. His heart calling out for help from me.

  “I think we should go.” I suggest to Devin.

  “Of course,” He agrees. “Nice meeting you two.” He walks over to me, putting his arm over my shoulder, turning our bodies to the opposite direction of them. I twist my head back around to get one last glimpse of him. Lyla is standing in front of him, her back facing ours; her hands swatting at the air and her rage piercing the sky. Her head bobbles and weaves as she’s letting him have it for trying to hug me but he hears nothing she’s saying. His coherent eyes glued to mine. I want to break free of Devin’s captivity and run back to him, tell him I love him—over and over again. I want to snuggle in that nook between his chest and head and inhale every fragment of him like I used to. I open my mouth to speak but instead, I smile with tears ready to fall, I turn away from him, forsaking him forever. Goodbye Riley.

  *****

  “Nora?” I hear a sweet, soft whisper. “Baby?” I feel his warm lips press against my cheek. “Wake up.” He says. The fair really did a number on me.

  I moan and shift in the passenger seat.

  “Baby, we’re here, get up.” He says again.

  “Where are we?” I mumble with my eyes still closed.

  “Open your eyes and you’ll see.”

  I open my eyes to a house three times bigger than my own, even bigger than Devin’s. The double glass doors were bigger than my dorm room alone. The pilasters, panels and bowed windows were twenty feet high, seeming they could almost touch the outer layer of the crisp blue sky. It was stunning. Devin doesn’t look away from me; he stares at me as I sit there with my mouth dropped open in amazement of the house’s beauty.

  He chuckles in arrogance. “You okay, Nora?”

  I clear my throat and wipe the small amount the drool from the side of my mouth. “I’m fine.” I respond, barely turning my attention to him. “Whose house? It’s perfect.”

  “Wait ‘til you see the inside. It’s my grandfather’s home.” He says slipping out of the car and walking over to the passenger side to open the door for me. He speaks but my concentration still centers right onto the house. “… you know?” was all that I could hear him say.

  “Uh—yea.” I say, shooing away the fact that I had heard nothing he had said in the past couple of seconds.

  “You hungry?” He breaks my trance.

  “Famished.” I step out of the car, my eyes on his now.

  “I’ll order pizza. Stay here. I have to go check to see if the house is empty.” He walks over to the door of the house to unlock it but the alarm screams out in fear that an intruder was trying to enter. I cover my ears to rid the deafening sound piercing my hearing.

  As I stand there with my ears covered, I watch him panic. I could sense his fear of the nosey neighbors, who were now stepping out to look at him. I laugh at him, my voice barely reaching him over the fierce alarm. He glares back at the neighbors who studies him still with suspicion. I watch meticulously, amazed that they didn’t know who Devin was. It seemed strange for them to not recognize this guy. A hollow feeling forms in the pit of my stomach as I ask myself if this was really his grandparents’ home but I turn from him, redirecting my mind.

  I savor the way he looked at me before turning away from him. It will always be her, Nora. She will always keep me coming back for more. I shake my head at the thought of him breaking my heart. What was wrong with Riley!? Why did he feel the need to make me feel so low about myself? I try with great effort but every failed attempt to erase him just led me closer. I couldn’t deny the love I still had for him. It was something I could never replace—I couldn’t substitute Devin for him. I turn to look at Devin again, still ranting and raging about the alarm he had yet to control. I cringe at him, knowing that he could never be it for me. I had already found him. Riley had to be the only one; I loved him too much for him not to be. Confusion settles in.

  The alarm ceases and Devin walks back over to the car to grab our bags. He slings mine over his shoulder first then his. He walks past me, I grab him by his arm. He stops to gape at me, leaving me feeble in the knees; he may not be my one but he was still handsome. Any girl would buckle under his gaze. What other choice did I have? Riley made his choice. I don’t hesitate too long; I just grab him by the back of his head and bring him in closer to me. I rub my bottom lip against his, making sure that he’s frail before diving in head first. I feel his breathing deepen, his nostrils expand, permitting more air to pass through to his lungs, and his heart gambles. I knew then I had him. I press my lips to his and indulge in his essence. He runs his hands up and down my back as I allow him to witness the darkness in my soul; I consent to him—Devin, please take me; take my heart away.

  17 chasing butterflies

  He sits on the back of his car and I stand there in between his legs while his arms wrap comfortably around my waist, peering into my eyes. We drove fifteen minutes down the road to pick up the pizza. “Baby?” He says sweetly.

  “Mm?”

  “I’m in this for the long run—only if you want me. I will never leave you or hurt you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” I look down and I feel that insufferable protuberance form in my throat. “Nora?”

  “Yea? Yep? I hear you.” I sniffle quickly and wipe the excess tear stains from my face.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I–” Truthfully, I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him the truth? Was this a good source of moving on from Riley? “I don’t know. I guess I’ve had no one to be as good to me as you are.” Instead, I look him dead in the eye and lie to him.

  “I would never tell you anything that isn’t true. I want to be with you and hopefully we can progress and make it to the point of marriage.” He smirks at me as I gulp with regret of lying to him. “I am looking forward to that. I want a wife and children. Specifically, with you.” He searches my eyes for a response but my eyes dash away from him before his eyes could travel cavernously into me. He had to know that I was lying to him.

  I smile, “Okay, Devin.”

  “Okay, good.” He smiles and kisses my forehead.

  “Excuse me?” An elderly woman sitting in her car next to us waves for our attention.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, did you need to get by us.” Devin asks her.

  “No young man, I just wanted to say that you two are a lovely couple and you will make it a long way,” She’s looking at Devin but then looks at me and says, “Stick by this man. He will go places. He will be good for you. Love him right and he will love you even better.” I choke back my thoughts.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I coughed out.

  “Mm!” She gets out of her car and tries to scurry along as fast as her legs would let her go.

  “You see,” He speaks as my eyes shift back to him, “I will only be good for you.” He kisses my forehead and I chortle unnervingly.

  *****

  My attention alternates to Devin whose wet li
ps are pressing against my neck during the gory movie. He pulls away, smirking then leaning in closer to my face to kiss me on the lips. I lie back on the floor with my tailbone tucked under me and he joins me. He rubs the tip of his nose against my cheek. “Baby.” He whispers, inhaling against the side of my mouth, inching his way closer to my lips. I pull in air, allowing it to fill my lungs. I couldn’t resist—I pull his face into mine, locking my lips with his. His lips bounced with essence just as I hoped they would. I bite his bottom lip allowing it to fill my mouth and he hums with fulfillment.

  It had to be about 20 minutes of exchanging spit particles between us when he picks me up and carries me to the bathroom, sitting me on top of the sink vanity. What are we about to do? My thoughts distending their way through to my mouth. “What are we about to do?” I whisper with my lips still nibbling on his. He moans as his fingertips start from my waist and move back up to the back of my neck, to the back of my head, massaging my scalp. His fingers drift back down to my waist to peel off my shirt but I stop him.

  “Wait!” I gasp for air.

  “What’s wrong?” He says kissing my neck.

  “Stop.” I push away. He looks at me with confusion.

  “I mean I don’t want you to think that I don’t want this; I do, just not now. We just made official only an hour ago.” My eyes cut to the corner.

  “So!” He says carelessly, returning to suck the life out of my neck.

  “So—we need to take it slow!” I snap, pushing him away again. I couldn’t deny that I really wanted him though. My left brow lifts in desperation of wanting him but my conscious overrides that desperation.

  “Babe! We’ve been at this for a while!” He exclaims. He was right. We had been doing this for a while and I wanted him badly—I sigh, biting my bottom lip.

  “Okay?” He kisses me again but more gently this time.

  “Okay.” I whisper. Before I knew it, we were back at it again except this time, I vibe with him. I don’t stop the flow of our spit swaps.

  “Devin.” I whisper as I continuously give myself to him.

  18 Standards

  “… but yes. You can become pregnant even with your condition. You may have PCOS–” What if I was pregnant? Especially after my encounter with Devin yesterday. I gulp, regretting the mind-blowing, heart robbing sex.

  “What’s that?” My sister Kinsey interrupts.

  “Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome.” The doctor and I both say.

  Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. The words echo in my ears over and over again. I had to hear about this same condition that I had—did not have. Whichever.

  “But my last two doctors said that I had it then it went away so do I have it or not?” I was sounding even more rude than expected.

  “Well, you may well not have PCOS but I think your final option will be to have the surgery. In fact, I believe that will be your best option, if you plan to have children one day. Nora, you are 20 years old. I know that isn’t old but you really have no more time to waste, if you want a healthy baby, that is.” Her mouth twists into a friendly, “I’m here for you,” type of smile. She was also a close friend to my mom. We trusted her with information such as this. I just hoped nothing would happen to her as it did with Donna. I cringe at Donna’s dead body and what it must have felt like finding her dead.

  “What’s the procedure? I mean, what’s the name of the surgery?” I ask her, never returning her smile.

  “Gynecological Laparoscopy…” Tuh, fancy that. “It’s when the surgeon explores your uterus to make sure nothing is blocking your fallopian tubes and ovaries. They need to be sure that everything is in-tact. Sometimes your bladder could sit on your uterus. It happens.”

  “Explains why I am always running to the bathroom.” I smirk. Doctor Banks didn’t find my remark funny though. Somehow, I didn’t find it funny either but anything to pull the stiffness out the room. She just looks at me with those same friendly, “I am here for you” eyes and a smile so irritating.

  “Well…” I clear my throat, “thank you for all of your advice and help. I really do appreciate it.”

  “No problem!” There it was. That mocking tone. That deafening, “I’m sorry that you are infertile” tone of voice.

  “Oh, you can also try Metformin to help you ovulate.” She spins back around to say to me.

  “I’ve tried that. I don’t know if it helped me ovulate or not but I tried it for a while but got off of it.” I was just simply tired of being doped up on medicine all the time.

  She looks down, “Oh well,” then back up at me, “I say, try it again.” All 32 of her teeth show this time. I feel my stomach bubble. Something about her drove me insane.

  Thank you. I tried to say.

  “Have a nice day.” She says after I couldn’t muster up the stomach strength to thank her.

  I hop up from the chair to gather my things—which wasn’t much—my hat, coat and wallet. I was so in-tune with what the doctor was saying about the surgery that I had forgotten that my sister was even in the room.

  “What was all that about?” Kinsey asks.

  “What?”

  “Why were you so weird-acting towards her?”

  “I wasn’t—was I?” I look at her with searching eyes.

  “Well, yeah.” I help her to her feet. She’s pregnant. That’s what gave me the urge to ask the doctor all of those questions about pregnancy. My sister knew about the infertility tattoo and now, so did this doctor. Envy of Kinsey pushes its way through to my heart. I glare at her, she doesn’t notice. Her back's turned towards me. She puts her hand on the door knob, ready to sling the door open. “You coming?” She turns her head back to ask me.

  “I’ll meet up with you later.” I smile.

  “Okay. Thanks for coming with me.” She lets go of the door knob, waddles over to hug me then leaves out of the room.

  I take a seat on the stool to gather my thoughts. I didn’t want to envy my little sister. I didn’t want to want what she is being blessed with. I stare off into the distance, ruminating on everything the doctor said I would have to do. Was it even possible to get away with the surgery in secret?

  There’s a tumor lodged into your fallopian tube. We must do the surgery. Grant’s voice echoes in my head. My eyes widen—there was something blocking! A tumor! A tumor Grant offered to remove for me but I was too concerned about Riley. My expression darkens. This was all his fault! The hate I had for Riley manifested – I hated him for this. For leaving me alone with this barren disease and now for being the reason I walked out on my salvation. I clench my jaw, trying to hold back the sobs. No use. My eyes released the tears before I gave them the permission to. He used to be the one that held me together, the one that kept me from breaking. Now he was the one breaking me and I was letting him.

  My wrist gadget buzzes. I project the screen onto the palm of my hand. It’s Devin. I ignore the call, blotting the tears from my face and sweeping my hair back attempting to pull myself together. I could no longer count on Riley to be the one to hold me together. I knew it wasn’t his responsibility anyway, it was mine alone, and I was always blaming Riley when I have all the control over all of these situations so the person I am really mad at is me. My face cringes again and my eyes form new tears. I was facing the inevitable truth. It was harder to take than expected. Nora Jeneane Jacobs, pull yourself together.

  I stand to my feet, smooth my shirt out, and straighten my face. I had to go back to Grant. He was the only one that could help me. I rush out of the Care Station as fast as I could.

  *****

  I slouch down in the driver’s side of my rental car and dial Care Station 8’s contact number.

  “Care Station 8, Molly speaking, how may I help you?” The nurse blurts into the phone.

  “Um hi. Is there a Dr. Grant Roberts available?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Just a—patient of his.” I clear my throat. I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about my condition and secr
etly, I was regretting asking all of those questions to my sister’s doctor but I had to get another opinion.

  “Well, he’s in surgery right now. Are you in any pain? Can I assist?” Her voice somewhat agitated. I hear papers shuffle in the background.

  “Oh no—no. I just need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”

  “Are you in any pain, ma’am?”

  “No!” I snap. “Sorry, no. I just really need to talk to him.”

  “Who’s calling?” I imagine her rolling her neck.

  “Nora…”

  “Nora?”

  “Jacobs. Nora Jacobs.”

  “Nooora Jaaacobs.” I hear her say as she’s writing my name down.

  “Yes. Just ask him to please call me back. I really need to talk to him soon. Possibly today.”

  “Okay, ma’am.”

  “Thanks,” Click.

  Grant Roberts. Backspace. Dr. Grant Roberts. I type into my phone’s search engine app. I scan the information hastily but my eyes stop dead center on a small piece of information that makes me shiver. Dr. Grant Roberts has a 100% success rate in all surgical procedures. 100% of his patients have survived after strenuous—

  I clasp my fist shut powering down my wrist gadget. How can that be? How is it that he has a 100% success rate? No one is that good.

  19 dreaming

  THE PAST 1.5

  LESLIE

  I walk out of the building, expecting to see Nora sitting in the passenger side of my black Blitz that’s parked in front of Greg’s office. A small sweep of panic chills my spine when I look through the window of my car to find it empty, “Nora?” I call out to her.

  “Here, mom.” I spin around to face her, my dress flowing behind me.

  “Ooh, you scared me. Nora, why do you insist on dressing that way.” I study her baggy cargo pants, brown boots, and teal tattered shirt. She pulls the edges of her shirt outward, looking down to study it. She’s taunting me.