Rescue Breathing (39 page)

“
I'd forgotten how devastatingly handsome
you are,” I hear a voice say from the parking lot at the side of
the firehouse. I look up and my heart lurches into my
throat.

Molly.

Tall, leggy, blonde, beautiful bitch
Molly.

She saunters over to where I'm sitting.
“What.
No hello,
Owen?”

I take my feet down and sit up in my
chair. “Molly. What are you doing here?”

She smiles and starts to play with her
hair. I used to love it when she did that. “I was in the
neighborhood, feeling a little lonely, and I somehow got myself
right here. Like you were calling my name or something,” she says
with seductive lilt.

I stand up, hoping that will create some
space for me, but no dice.

She steps in closer.
“I've been thinking about you a lot
lately. Thinking about the good times we had.” She starts to look
around the firehouse. “Right here actually. Lots and lots of good
times had here,” she giggles sweetly.

“
Molly, I'm touched that you've been
reminiscing, but I don't have anything to say to you.”

She closes the space between us and places
a hand delicately on my chest. Fuck. My heart is racing, but it's
not because of her. I don't want her to feel that.

“
Ooowennnn,” she sings, drawing out my name
sexily, “I know you think about me. How could you not? We both made
mistakes. There's no reason we can't fix those mistakes, is there?”
She leans forward, unexpectedly kissing me on the lips.

My eyes close as I am taken over by
confusion and unease.
What the fuck is going on today? When I open my eyes, my
heart falls into my stomach. Olivia is standing in the bay, lunch
bag in her hand and her mouth open.

“
Olivia,” I say in a huff of almost
inaudible breath.

The bag falls out of
Olivia
's hand and hits
the floor with a splat, her eyes filling with tears. Molly pulls
away and looks up at me with confusion. Seeing my eyes focused
elsewhere, she turns around to look at Olivia, who is frozen in
place at the bay door, looking at us.

“
Can we help you, honey?” Molly asks
Olivia.

Olivia turns on her heel and walks out of the
firehouse without saying a word.

I can't move. I'm rooted to my spot, and
all the blood has drained out of my face. My stomach churns in
disgust.

Molly turns to look at me and runs a hand
down my chest. “Who was that? Do you know her?”

I grab her hand from my chest and push
Molly away. “You need to go.
I
need
to go.”

Molly places her hands on her hips and
looks frustrated. “Owen, I want you to think about this. We were so
good together. You know that. We made some mistakes. I made some
mistakes. Please…” She reaches up and kisses me on the
lips.

Fuck. I push her away more forcefully. “I
did make mistakes, Molly, and my biggest one was letting that woman
walk out of here.” I wave in the direction of where Olivia was
standing. “You need to go.” I turn and walk back into the
firehouse, leaving Molly behind, bewildered. I take the stairs two
at a time. “Tanner!” I yell.

“
In here, man,” he calls back.

I find Tanner sitting at the table in the
kitchen. I'm out of breath. I'm going to lose Olivia. That's not
what I wanted. What the fuck was I thinking today? I don't want her
to go. Fuck.

“
Dude, I need to run home. I—I have an
emergency that I need to take care of. Can you make a few calls and
get some backup in here for me?”

“
Sure thing, O,” he replies, eyeing me
cautiously. “Is everything okay, man?”

“
No. Everything is not okay,” I answer
honestly.

I grab my belongings from my locker and
run back out toward the bay.
Molly is thankfully gone. I start to jog toward my
apartment, praying that Olivia is still there.

* * *

I walk into my apartment and see a
distraught Olivia gathering items from around the
apartment
—panties left
on the couch, her laptop on the kitchen counter. Seeing her like
this makes my heart ache so badly, I can hardly breathe.

I close the door behind me, and the click
of the lock draws Olivia out of her daze.
“Olivia,” I say, leaning against the
door.

“
Don't,” she bites out through a clenched
jaw. She doesn't even bother to turn to face me. “I'm almost done
getting my things together. I'll be out of your hair in just a
minute.”

“
Olivia, please stop and listen to me. I
don't want you to go, baby.” I say quietly and push off the door to
approach her.

She raises her hand to me. “Do
not
call me baby, and please
do
not
come near me,” Olivia spits out
angrily. “Just let me go, Owen.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “I can't do
that, Olivia. I'll never do that. Please listen to me. I promise
you. It's not what you think,” I plead. “That was Molly, my
ex-fiancée. She—”

Olivia throws me a look that warns me to
stop talking as tears roll down her cheeks. “
Owen, look. You don
't owe me any explanations. I obviously
had this wrong. You made it clear to me the first day I met you
what you wanted and didn'
t want.
” She
sniffs loudly.

“
What? What is that supposed to mean?” I
ask, growing frustrated.

“
Just please...I don't want to make this
harder than it already is. I'm supremely embarrassed.
Just let me
go.
” She turns her head
so I won't see her cry, but the shaking of her shoulders can't hide
that.

I come up behind her, wary. Seeing her cry
is tearing me apart, and I don't know what to say. She is
trembling; it's awful. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Olivia,
I—”

She swings around and glares at me.
“
Leave. Me. Alone.
” A fresh tear falls from her eye.
“
Let me go,
Owen.
”

“
I'm not letting you go, Olivia,” I say,
hoping that she'll just stop packing, look at me, and let me talk
for two freaking minutes. I know I can make this better if I can
explain.

“
I'm leaving,” she says, “I am
accommodating your wants and needs.” She grabs her bag and stands
in front of me, sniffling but defiant. “Now move so I can go catch
my cab.”

“
You won
't even let me speak? You clearly don't understand what my
wants and needs are, because I
want
you, Olivia. I
need
you. Don't leave me without letting me get two words in.
Everything you saw was—”

“
I saw everything I needed to see, Owen. I
saw you kissing another woman who, I come to find out, is your
ex-fiancé
e, for
God
's sake!” Olivia
yells, throwing her hands up in the air. “Now move out of my way,
Owen. Don't make me ask you again.”

I reluctantly step to the side to allow
Olivia to walk out on me, taking half of my heart with her. “I'm
nothing like Jay, Olivia. Don't make the mistake of lumping me
together with him. This is
nothing
like that,” I say, seething and not looking at
her.

Olivia pauses momentarily, my words hitting
her core, but she continues out the door and to her waiting
cab.

As I watch her walk out the door, I feel
completely defeated. She left me. Olivia has made it pretty clear
that she wants to be left alone. I know I've hurt her, but damn it,
she can be so fucking stubborn. If she would have just calmed down
and listened to me...

I know I
've hurt her and I know that it looked bad. Ugh, I
can't believe that just a mere five hours ago, I was questioning
wanting a life with Olivia. Now, the thought of being without her
is crippling. The reality of everything comes crashing down on me,
and I sink to my knees on the floor with my head in my hands. For
the first time since my father died, I start to cry.

C
HAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Olivia

It
's been two weeks since I last saw Owen. He has tried to
call me several times, but I haven't answered or responded. I get a
text from him almost every day.

Please talk to me, Olivia.

I miss you.

My apartment feels empty. Please talk to
me.

She doesn't mean anything to me, baby.
Please believe me.

Please answer your phone, Olivia. Just talk
to me for a minute.

Give me a chance to fix this. You're the one
I want.

You are my future.

Every text message is like a knife to my
heart, and I
've taken to
shutting off my phone and telling people to contact me through my
house phone or the office.

At night, I lie in bed and cry. My heart
has been beaten to a pulp. This is so much worse than when I lost
Jay. I really thought Owen and I had some future. I finally trusted
him. My mistake.

Charley keeps telling me to give him
another chance and to hear Owen out.
Simon just listens to me cry but doesn't offer
anything else. I don't think he knows what to do. The one thing
he
does
know to do
is keep this from my parents. The last thing I need right now is my
mother to give me an earful about the
other
one I let get away. Especially after the amazing weekend we
spent there.

Part of me feels like I should give him a
chance, like what I saw was perhaps outside his control. But I
think of what it would be like for him if the tables had been
turned. From just the brief interaction with Jay in my office, his
initial reaction was jealousy. And this isn't the first time
something has happened. I'm getting tired of turning every corner
in Brooklyn and finding another one of his sexcapades, another
reminder of his past. I know we all have a past. I get that.
But we don
't all have to contend with that past
rearing its head every five minutes.

It
's something I can'
t get past.
I
can't get over it. And maybe that makes me weak or wrong, but it's
what I know about myself. I know that if I talk to him, if I let
him in at all, I'll waver and end up the one suffering. The thought
of never speaking to him again, never seeing him, never touching
him or being touched by him… It cracks my heart.

I throw myself into my work. I am
responding to every grant that comes by my desk in the hopes that
something will come along that I can sink my teeth into, something
to lose myself in. For the first time in years, nothing is
sticking, and it's so frustrating. I need desperately some kind of
distraction.

Two more weeks go by, and my heart is
starting to heal, albeit very slowly and very tenuously. Last
night, while cleaning my apartment, I found the card that had come
with the flowers Owen had given me for my birthday. I cried on the
floor, my head in my hands, for two hours before passing
out.

One Wednesday morning as I sit at my desk,
Laney comes bouncing into my office. “Miss Oliviaaaaa,” she sings,
“you have been invited to speak to the FDNY next week about your
paper. Isn't that amazing?”

Normally her enthusiasm is infectious, but
today, it's a little exhausting. I feel bad. That's not her
fault.

“
I don
't remember seeing that invitation. Seems kind of
last-minute, doesn't it?” I reply, somewhat frustrated.

“
Apparently it's last-minute because they
want to get it done before the new commissioner retires. He wants
to do it under his tenure I guess.” She rolls her eyes as if this
seems ridiculous to her.

“
Oh,” I say. “Well, I obviously don't have
anything scheduled, so I guess you can RSVP for me that
I'
ll
come.
”

Laney nods and starts to walk out of my
office.
Suddenly,
something occurs to me.

“
Wait, Laney!
Do you know where the talk is being
given?”

Laney stops and turns, reading the
invitation. “It's at a community center in Brooklyn.
Why?”

I frown. Fuck. I'm likely to run into Owen
at this thing. Can I handle that? Will I break down in the middle
of presenting my paper if I see him? Maybe he won't attend. Maybe
he'll be smart enough to not go.

“
Okay.
Thanks, Laney
.”

She quietly leaves the room, and I spend the
rest of the afternoon in my office with tears pricking my eyes,
staring blankly at my computer.

* * *

A week later, I
'm going over my notes for my talk this afternoon.
I am dressed in a simple black shift dress and black heels. Not my
fuck-me shoes, but a pair that gives me height and makes me look
both professional and pretty. I'm trying to make myself feel good.
Looking good is feeling good right?