Rescue Breathing (41 page)

After I watch her leave and shut the door,
my attention turns to Owen.
I can tell that he's lost weight, but he also looks more
muscular. The blanket comes up to his hips, but his chest is bare
and covered with round leads connected to wires attached to
machines. I scan the area around him, taking stock of what he's
monitored for. He has several IVs running into his hand—saline, it
looks like, and a medication I don'
t recognize.
I reach out carefully and slip my hand into his. He is
warm, and his skin is dry and rough. Just as I remember it. I watch
his chest rise and fall and look at his precious face. And then I
start to cry. I put my head down, my forehead resting on his
forearm. After a few moments, I wipe my eyes and gaze back up at
him. Rubbing his hand, I start to speak.

“
Oh, Owen, I
'm so sorry. So sorry about everything.” I shake
my head. “I let my emotions get ahead of my brain. I should have
given you a chance, a chance to explain, or…something. I just was
so scared. I felt you pulling away a little and I thought maybe you
had reached out to her or something.”

I decide that I
'll let him know all of my crazy thoughts about
all of this. Why hold back now? “I thought maybe you were testing
yourself to see if this was really something you wanted. I can't
tell you how sorry I am, Owen. So, so very sorry, baby.”

I sit by Owen's bedside for what seems
like hours, just watching him as the sun sets outside the window.
Occasionally, I straighten, reach over, and stroke his hair. It's
so soft and in desperate need of a cut. He's just so gorgeous. He
has a little stubble, which I always think looks good on him. I
remember how it feels on my cheeks, my neck, my body. I look at his
strong arms and think about how it felt to just lie in them. I
recall how they felt wrapped around me while we watched TV on his
couch, when we went to a movie theater, or when we were out
dancing. I think about waking in the morning before him and
watching him sleep, contemplating our future. Wondering if we'd
have a future.

I go out into the waiting area at one
point to update Simon and Reese and tell them to go home
because I'm going to stay the night. They understand and offer
to get me some coffee before they go. I thank them but decline, and
with a hug and a kiss, they leave. After going back into the room,
I settle myself in the reclining chair they have placed next to his
bed for me. I am close enough to hold his hand and actually lean
onto his bed beside him. I do this and close my eyes, drifting
off.

I wake abruptly. I'm confused as I take in
my surroundings in the soft light of dawn. I suddenly realize
what's woken me up. Feeling a hand squeezing mine, I look up at
Owen, whose eyes are still closed but it looks like he's trying
desperately to open them.

I sit up, squeezing his hand back.
“
Owen?
Baby?” I whisper quietly.

His eyes blink open and he turns his head
to look at me. When his eyes focus, he smiles softly at me. “Hi,”
he replies to me in a gravelly voice.

I return the smile.
“Hi.”

Owen glances around the room, grimacing as he
turns his head.

“
Hey, careful. You had quite a fall
yesterday.”

He moves his eye over to me, confused.
“The balcony. It dropped,” he recalls, the accident coming back to
him.

I nod. “Yeah, it did.”

“
How did you… Why … You're here,” his voice
strained

“
Tanner called me. I came right away,” I
said.

He is clearly perplexed by this
information.

I take his hand, squeezing it
lightly.
“
Owen look,
I—
”

“
Shhh,” he says. “Olivia, you don't have to
say anything.”

I shake my head vehemently. “Just listen
to me for a second. I'll keep it brief.”

He nods and gives me a smile.

“
I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I'm sorry
I didn't trust you. I'm sorry I'm the reason we have both been so
broken the last few months. I was terrified I would lose you. You
had been distant for a few days and then she showed up and I just
thought it was connected. I didn't want to get hurt, so I ran. I
know it was wrong, but it's what I did.” I pause to let him absorb
this.

“
You didn't return my calls. I went to your
apartment. I sent flowers. I tried to tell you…” he trails off. I
see his eyes getting moist and it breaks my heart. Mine follow
suit.

“
Owen, I take responsibility for that. I
knew if I talked to you I would crumble. I would falter. It's
easier for me, wrong or right, to just cut myself off. So that's
what I did. I'll never forgive myself for not believing you or for
hurting you like that. I never will.” I put my head down and
cry.

He strokes my hair.
“Olivia,” he says quietly. “Olivia, look
at me.”

I look up at him, our tear-filled eyes
meeting. “I love you, Olivia.”

“
Oh, Owen,
” I
choke out,
“I
love you too.” I stand and lean over the bed, kissing him softly on
the lips.

“
I should have told you a long time ago,”
he admits, “I shouldn't have been so afraid to tell you or, more to
the point, afraid of what I was feeling. You say you were worried I
would leave you. Well, I felt the same.”

My eyes are full of tears and I feel them
slide down my cheeks as I take in what he has said. I truly thought
that he couldn't possibly love me. That all those feelings were
only coming from me, and if I'm honest, maybe I wondered if he was
capable of those feelings. I know already I have been skeptical
that
I
was capable of those feelings.
Yet here we are, expressing our love for one another, but more
importantly, sharing that we have many of the same fears. It's a
lot to process.

We sit like this for hours, talking,
giving each other our honesty. Real honesty. We said, “I love you,”
a million times, holding hands, stroking hair. We kissed briefly
many times.

Owen
's nurse came in and the doctor visited. Eventually he was
able to sit up in his bed and eat something. He has a concussion
and some cracked ribs, but other than some bruising and scratches,
he is in good shape now. It is a blessing. One that I know we have
to not take for granted. This accident brought us back together,
and we have to read the sign for what it is. We both know
that.

The next day, the doctor comes in and
tells us that Owen can be discharged tomorrow. Most of his IVs and
leads get removed too. We celebrate by having his boys from the
firehouse bring him in a burger. He is famished, and I take this as
a good sign. We joke for a time with the boys, but when Owen starts
to look tired, I send them on their way.

As I go to get settled for the last time
in my sleeping chair, Owen reaches over to me and takes my
hand.
“Climb into bed
with me,” he commands.

I look out at the nurse'
s desk.
“
I
don
't think Nurse Jean
would approve of that, baby.” I giggle nervously.

He smiles at me. “I'm not hooked up much
anymore, so nothing can get tangled.” He pouts at me. “Please
Olivia. I need this.”

The nurses have dimmed the lights for the
night, and Nurse Jean is studiously working at her computer. She
has come in less and less today, and I know she would only come in
tonight to give him meds or check in if I hit the
button.

“
Oh screw it,” I say, and he
beams.

I kick off my shoes as he pulls his
blanket and sheets back.
I slide in next to him and curl against him. This feels so
good I could cry. So familiar, so perfect.

He kisses me on the top of the head and
sighs.
“I missed this so
much, Liv,”
Owen
whispers.

“
Mmmm,” I murmur back, not wanting to talk
and break the moment.

“
I love you, beautiful,” he whispers into
my hair as he kisses me gently.

I look up at him. “I love you too,” I say
quietly. Slipping my hand over his stomach under the sheets, I pull
him close, resting my head on his chest. “Let's sleep, my love. You
need your rest.”

E
PILOGUE

Olivia

It
's been a number of weeks since Owen's accident at work.
Our relationship has rebounded from the time we were apart, and is
that much stronger. I've stayed at his house every night, and the
nightmares have come back with a vengeance. He still refuses to
tell me the story behind them, but I'm patient and realize that he
needs time to share that with me. At least he's opening up about
this most recent trauma. He talks to me about his fear and lets me
console him.

Today, we went for his physical therapy
appointment, and we have just gotten back, ready to relax for the
rest of the night. Owen is taking a shower and I am enjoying a
quiet moment gazing out at the backyard on this unseasonably warm
day while drinking a cup of coffee on the deck. I put up white
fairy lights last week, and at dusk, they are stunning.

I don
't hear him come up behind me, but I suddenly feel warm
hands drift around me from behind, wrapping me tightly. I smile. I
can smell him—yummy body wash and cologne. He nuzzles my neck and
nibbles at my earlobe.

“
Have I mentioned to you today how
beautiful you are?” he hums quietly.  It's not meant to be a
come-on. He sounds so sincere when he says it.

“
Mmmm, only once or twice,” I reply, “but
I'm always happy to hear it again.” I let my head drop back to his
shoulder as he kisses my neck.

“
Have I mentioned to you today how much I
love you?” he asks his voice dropping a bit.

“
Yes, but I
need
to hear that again.”

He puts his mouth against my ear and
whispers, “I. Love. You. Olivia.”

I turn in his arms and take his face in my
hands. “I love you too, Owen.”

There is something different in his
eyes.
He looks
incredibly sincere, almost desperate. I have a hard time reading
him sometimes. Owen has always been a very guarded person with his
feelings, and while he really is trying hard to open up for me,
there are times when I can tell he's struggling with how to tell me
how he feels. It's in our lovemaking that the majority of his
emotion spills out, often leaving us breathless with the intensity
of the passion that comes from it.

I wrap my arms around his neck and run my
fingers into his hair as his hands slide down my backside, rubbing
and cupping me. I encourage him down to lean towards me for a kiss.
It starts innocently—no tongue, just our lips brushing. It's
beautifully intimate. But he pulls me into him, pressing himself
against me, pushing me against the deck railing, and deepening the
kiss. He kisses me deeply, his tongue lapping into my mouth. It's
passionate but slow. He's savoring me. He's telling me how he feels
without using words.

He turns me and walks me back into the
house. I tentatively step backward, with him guiding me, all the
way into his bedroom, our lips never disconnecting. When we get in
front of his bed, he shifts his hands under the fabric of the back
of my shirt and over my skin, lifting it over my head. I do the
same, helping him out of his shirt. We say nothing. There is
nothing to say. We're going to make love. That's it. It's simple.
He wants to show me some emotion, some feeling, something he can't
say.

I unbutton his jeans as he undoes mine and
we simultaneously push our jeans and underwear down until we're
both kicking out of them. He undoes my bra and slowly pulls it off,
bending over to take my nipple, which has become a hardened peak
under his gaze and touch, into his warm mouth. He laves it with his
tongue, sucking most of my breast into his mouth as he runs his
hands over my body.

He turns as he's kissing me and sits on
the bed, his back to the headboard. He pulls me onto his waiting
lap, his erection between us, hard and heavy against his
belly.

He takes my face in his hands. “I love you
so much it hurts. I love you so much it terrifies me. You could
leave me and I don't think I'd survive it.” His words are so raw
and real and painful. I feel the hurt others have inflicted on him
coming through his words, and in this moment, I swear to myself
that I will never hurt this man.

“
I'm not going anywhere Owen. I'm here to
stay. I promise you.”

He leans forward and kisses me, his lips
coaxing, soft, warm. He tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss,
his hands going from my face, to my neck, my shoulders, my back.
His lips urge mine to part, and I oblige, letting his tongue dip
slightly into my mouth. My hands rest on his upper arms, which are
firm and muscular. He makes me feel so safe, like nothing bad can
get to me.

He intensifies our kiss and his hands
travel down to my ass, kneading my soft flesh and gently moving me
closer to his waiting erection. I lift slightly on my knees,
seeking him before I let go of one arm and reach between us. His
cock is huge, engorged, so ready for me that it twitches when I
touch it. It arches up toward my touch, seeking me out, and I can't
help but smile. I grasp him firmly and start to stroke him, an
unnecessary act as he's harder than he has ever been with me. We
kiss this entire time, never breaking contact, and I can feel my
own arousal wetting the inside of my thighs, his lap.