The Last Exhale (25 page)

“Is she—” Can't bring myself to say it.

Mom comes over to where I'm standing at the foot of the bed, hooks her arm around mine. “She's still here.”

Rene's eyes are closed, her arms clasped around Bear. I don't know what I was thinking bringing her here. Thought I could will her back to life with my love. But I couldn't do that before I knew about the cancer, so how would that work now? She didn't want to come here, didn't want me to be part of this part of her life. She knew I wouldn't be able to handle it. She pushed me away, made me pack up and move on with my life without her because she knew that ultimately I'd have to live without her.

I walk over to the bed, see Bear barely rise and fall against my wife's chest. I drop to my knees, plant my head against hers. “I'm not ready for you to go.”

Mom gets down on the floor with me, her arms wrapped around
my shoulders. Does her best to comfort her broken son. “We talked after you left. She never meant for any of this to happen.”

None of us ever mean for things to happen the way they do, but that doesn't stop them from happening. Rene tried to beat cancer once. It came back. No matter how much we try, it's impossible to change destiny. This is hers.

My lips touch her forehead, do the same to my mother's hand. I get up from the floor, look on table next to the bed for Rene's cell phone. Scroll through the contacts until I run across William's number. He doesn't answer. I don't leave a message. Told him I could do this on my own, told him I didn't need his help anymore. I was wrong once again. This is something I was never meant to handle alone.

My finger dials 9-1-1.

•  •  •

These are the final moments of my wife's life.

Soon as we made it to the hospital, I told my mom to go ahead and check on Andrew. There was nothing else we could do for Rene at this point. At least that's what the doctor told us. All they can do is pretty much make sure she's as comfortable as possible. It's only a matter of time.

A matter of time.

Time is everything. The thing is, we never know how much we'll have. Our son didn't have much time with us. We were just getting to know him, learn his likes and dislikes, qualities that would shape him in the years to come. Years we'd never see, years we'd never share with him. Just like we didn't know our time with him would be cut short, I never thought my time with my wife would be cut short. When we married, when we said those vows until death… You don't realize how soon that time could come.

A nurse walks in to check Rene's vitals and interrupts my thoughts. The avoidance of eye contact lets me know we don't have much longer.

When the nurse walks out of the room, I walk over to the woman I married nine years ago. All I can do is stand here and watch. Watch her clutch Bear as she sleeps. I pull the covers up over her shoulders. Tuck her and Bear in comfortably. A smile slowly spreads across her face; she grips Bear even tighter, if that's possible. Part of me feels she's nearing the bright light. Getting closer to reuniting with our son, her parents, those whose lives she touched once they reached their end. For a moment, those thoughts loosen the hold on my heart. They erase the anger that's built up over time for the only woman who's had my heart. A broken heart can only hurt so much before it becomes numb. She did the best she could.

So did I.

Rene and I are at the beach in Destin walking hand in hand.

She's happy.

I'm happy.

It feels like it did in the beginning of our marriage, when we'd come and walk the beach every weekend and share our dreams with each other until the sun would fall behind the other side of the ocean. We were so in love, had so much hope for our future while living and enjoying the present. We'd talk about how we couldn't wait to have a house full of kids. Growing up an only child, she wanted ten kids. Having a twin brother, I'd only wanted two. But I'd give her as many as she could have. We had our whole lives ahead of us to make it all come true.

“Why did we ever leave here?” I ask.

“Hmm, seems like we haven't been good with making the right decisions.”

Her tone catches me off-guard.

Rene stops walking, bends over, scoops up a handful of sand and resumes walking. With each step, she lets go of a pinch of sand. Not taking her eyes off the sand, she asks, “When were you going to tell me about her?”

It's my turn to stop walking. “What are you talking about, Rene?”

“C'mon, Brandon. Let's not play games.”

I ask, “How'd you know?”

She drops another pinch of sand. “A woman knows when her husband has eyes for another woman.”

I neither deny nor acknowledge her assumption.

“I have cancer not dementia. Neither am I blind.” She turns to look at me. “I saw how you two looked at each other at the closing. More importantly, I felt more in that room than I actually saw. Felt enough to know lines had been crossed between you two.”

“It's not what you think.”

“Everyone always says that when they get caught cheating, only for it to turn out exactly how it
was
thought.”

“That was weeks ago. Why didn't you say anything then?”

More sand falls from her fingertips. “I was hoping you'd be man enough to tell me.”

“Just like you should've been woman enough to tell me about the lump in your breast.”

“That's not fair, Brandon, and you know it.” She tosses the rest of the sand from her hand, then picks up another clump. Tries to buy more time.

“It's the same thing, Rene. True, I should've told you. Just like I had a responsibility as your husband, you had a responsibility as my wife.”

The sky turns from blue to a myriad of orange and pink as the sun begins to make its descent.

“Did you sleep with her?”

I tell the truth. “Yes, but not when you think.”

“Doesn't matter when you go there. Just matters that you did.”

“You shut me out of our marriage. What did you expect me to do?”

She drops another pinch of sand. “Do you love her?”

I don't have to think hard. “No.”

That settles her for a minute.

We keep walking toward the edge of the earth. Neither of us share words. Both of us in our own thoughts. My mind on where we'll go from here. Something tells me her mind is on the same.

Rene breaks the silence. “Will you make love to me?”

That wasn't what I was expecting, but I nod. She drops the sand, dusts the remnants off on her dress. I slip out of my shoes, put my keys and wallet inside, toss my socks on top. I grab her hand and lead us to the water.

My wife kisses me with so much passion. It's a kiss she never wants me to forget. I slide my tongue in her mouth where it remains as we tread deeper into the warm saltwater. She wraps her legs around my waist. I enter her ever so slow, scared I'm going to hurt her, but also because I want to make this moment last until the end of time.

It's a little difficult loving my wife the way I'd like because my feet have no footing. I kick backward a little until I feel firm sand under my feet. “Better?” I ask.

She nods.

“I never stopped loving you,” I say as I hold her close to me.

“I know.” She holds my face in her hands, plants tender kisses all over my face, stopping momentarily on my lips. “I didn't make it easy.”

“You were scared.”

“That's no excuse.”

I make love to my wife slow, give her the utmost affection. Whether she told me or not, this is the woman I chose to marry in sickness and health. She's all I've ever wanted. She's always been enough for me. With each stroke, I apologize for giving up so soon, for packing up and moving out of the home we shared together. I
apologize for stepping into the arms of another woman for comfort. “I'm sorry, Rene.”

I know this is the last time I'll ever be inside her. It's hard not to think about that as she moans in my ear. Moans I'll never hear again.

“It'll be okay, Brandon. You'll be okay,” she says, reading my thoughts.

It's not what I want to hear. In ways, I don't want to be okay, don't want to get over our love nor do I want to love someone new.

Rene turns my face to hers, makes me look her in the eyes. “I forgive you and I need you to forgive me.”

Deep in my heart, I know she was doing what was best for her. Selfishness and wanting to hold on to the anger would be the only reasons I wouldn't be able to forgive her. I don't know what it's like to watch close family members die. Nor do I know what it feels like to know you're about to die. I can't let her leave this life knowing I couldn't forgive her, or myself for that matter.

“I forgive you,” I whisper against her ear.

She hugs me for what feels like two eternities. When she lets me go, she walks out of the water. For a moment, she stops in her footsteps, but doesn't turn around. She puts one foot in front of the other and walks toward the sunset.

A hand grasps my shoulder. I jerk to look behind me, realize I'm not in the ocean, not at the beach. Not in Destin. I wipe the fog from my eyes to see my brother in a wheelchair in front of me. My parents behind him. “I must've drifted off.”

I get up from the chair to stand by Rene's side. The dream felt so real. She's still tucked under the covers, her face a look of peace. Bear's no longer clutched to her chest, though.

Andrew hands me the noseless bear. “She's gone.”

M
y heart stops the moment I step back through the doors of ICU and hear a long high-pitched beep. It's the beep you hear in movies when someone's flatlined.

I rush to Eric's room with my hand pressed into my chest. The beep on his heart monitor is steady. He's still in the land of the living. I left his room a couple of hours ago after he fell asleep on me before my confession rolled from my lips. It takes a few moments before my heart calms down to a light pound against my chest. That was a close call.

The clock above my husband's bed reads close to midnight. I walk over to the blinds to close them, give us some privacy. As I get ready to close the door, my heart's pace picks back up as I see a nurse placing a sheet over a patient across the hall. Bent over the bed is Brandon. I can't take my eyes away.

Rene. Guess that's where the beep of death came from.

Oh. My. God.

Just a few hours ago, not only was I trying to have sex with her husband in a public restroom, everything in me at this very moment wants to run across the hall and stand by Brandon's side. Hold his hand, tell him everything's going to be all right. What kind of woman am I? My husband is lying in a hospital bed himself and needs me here by his side. What kind of wife am I?

The doctor and nurse walk out of Rene's room. Mr. Carter is pushed out by an older-looking version of himself. An older woman behind them. Everyone leaves a husband to spend the final moments with his wife.

“Why are you crying?”

As I'm watching someone else's husband, my husband's watching me. I wipe my face with the sleeves of my shirt, close the door. Turn to face him, hoping he can't see my tears in the dark. “I'm not.”

“Thought you were done lying.”

I don't say anything. What is there to say anyway? The truth's hanging in the air.

“Who's Brandon?” he asks.

My right leg goes weak, causes me to lose my balance. “Huh?”

“You said,
‘I'm so sorry, Brandon.'
Who is he?”

Right then, right there in front of my husband, I have a breakdown. Tears consume me like flames from a cigarette flicked in a puddle of gasoline. I fall to the floor and bawl worse than my five-year-old son when he's told no. I cry for my selfishness. Cry because I've involved two innocent, hurt men into my misery. Two men who deserved so much better than what I had to give. Two men who came to me because the women they loved chose not to love them anymore. I became their backup plan, and for my own selfish reasons, that was okay with me. In the end, everyone still hurts. Including me.

Today I lay my wife to rest.

The past few days have been the hardest days of my life, but they have no comparison to today. No matter how much I try, saying goodbye to my wife is the last thing I want to do. Rene handled every detail of her funeral before she left. There's no way I would've been able to make any arrangements. Doing so would have felt so final. I guess it is. I'll never know how she was able to do it.

Rene is gone.

I'll never feel her love again. Never feel her lips pressed against mine again.

I tried to tell myself I had lost her years ago. Tried my hardest to believe that lie. It was a temporary salve to a deep wound that never quite penetrated.

“How are you feeling?” The tender voice of my mother brings me out of my thoughts.

My lips can't form any words. I reach out to her, pull her close to me. Wrap my arms around her. Let her love comfort me the way only a mother's love can.

Our embrace is cut short by a knock on my hotel room's door. Couldn't bear staying in my apartment. Kept seeing Rene in my bed, clutching Bear as she faded from life. I open the door, let my father in.

“The limo's here.”

I nod.

This is the part I hate, getting ready to head to the church. The time when friends and family gather to drive the streets with flashers on, cops holding up traffic to alert other drivers a family needs their consideration and respect for a moment, when everyone lines up in front of the church by position to the deceased to say their last goodbye. This is the time when you try to be the strongest, or at least look the part.

I grab my suit jacket from the bed. I don't put it on, just drape it over my arm.