To Feel Her Breathing
�Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven�s door and listen to you breathing�that�s where I want to be�
-Breathing, Lifehouse
To Feel Her Breathe
The phone rang in his ear once, then twice, before the soft female voice that was now so familiar to him answered. He listened politely to her greeting without cutting in, though he had heard it a million times, it seemed, and could likely recite it.
�Hello,� he began.
�Hello, stranger,� the woman at the other end teased. He smiled. It had been a couple of weeks. �Haven�t heard from you in a while. I was starting to get worried.�
He chuckled a little at that. �I�m fine. I just had some out-of-town business. So, can we arrange something for this evening?�
The woman�s voice dipped slightly in regret. �I�m afraid your favorite girl has departed our company. She�s moved on to greener pastures.� As soon as the words had left her lips, she was instantly apologetic, perceiving the potential barb. He chuckled again, this time soothingly, and assured her that no insult was taken.
There was a little laugh of relief, and he half-smiled. �I think there�s someone here you should meet, though,� she declared a moment later. �She�ll be over in about an hour.�
There was no mention of money. He�d been doing this so long, to even bring it up was almost insulting to both parties. It was simply understood. �Thank you,� he replied simply, and hung up.
The hour progressed swiftly, with the aid of a game show and half of a documentary on Ancient Egypt. About the time the voice-over began discussing Akhenaton, the heretic pharaoh, the doorbell rang. He flicked off the TV as he passed and walked to the front door.
He smiled in greeting to the woman on the other side. She smiled back, and he saw the flash of beautiful white teeth. Her eyes were a brilliant green, like emeralds in the snow. Her hair was a rich, dark brown, almost black, that hung to just below her shoulders. When she spoke, her voice was smooth and soft, like a blanket of velvet that enveloped the silence in warmth.
�Hello,� she greeted him. �Do I have the right place?�
He nodded, the smile still crossing his face. �You do, indeed. Come in.�
He stepped aside, and she entered, looking around. They always looked around. Usually he imagined that they were looking for other exits, should something go wrong. His smile became a little smaller, a little sadder. Nothing ever went wrong--but she wasn�t to know that yet, he supposed.
He gently wrapped his hands around the collar of her coat, and she jumped a little before smiling with a slight sigh of relief and allowing him to remove it from her. He opened the closet door and hung the wool coat on a hangar, closing the door once again before turning to her.
�Are you hungry?� he asked.
The question seemed to take her by surprise, and she blinked a couple of times before stammering, �Y-yes, as a matter of fact.�
He smiled. �Then come in, sit down. I�ll make us something.�
She followed, confused, as he led her into the dining room. She sat down slowly at the table while he continued into the adjacent kitchen.
�Feel free to turn on some music, if you�d like,� he called to her as the sound of a faucet running filled the air.
She said nothing in reply, only got up and walked over to the stereo. As she perused the CD�s, her brow furrowed. Her boss had said this would be an easy first night for her. She was more than a little nervous, and somehow the way this client was behaving, rather than reassuring her, somehow made her more anxious. Was he unaware that foreplay wasn�t necessary? She almost giggled. The situation was just short of comical.
She selected a jazz CD from the shelf and slid it into the stereo. As the soft sound of saxophones filled the previously quiet room, she stood--and her eyes met with a framed photograph of a woman. She had long dark hair and green eyes. She was wearing a white sundress, and her face seemed to glow in the picture. It was a glow of love in her eyes, in her smile. She was captivated for a moment. She�d never known love like that.
She walked back to the table and sat down. Hesitantly, she spoke. �Who�s the woman in the picture?� She waited for some kind of excuse, or worse yet, an angry reaction.
None was forthcoming. His reply was swift and even. �My wife.�
She blinked. That was the catch. Was she going to be springing out of bed later, grabbing her clothes as she ran out the back door? Worse yet, did he have something twisted in mind for her--a threesome, perhaps? She didn�t think she was ready for that.
She cleared her throat. �Um, where is she?�
He stepped out of the kitchen, two plates of pasta, covered in tomato sauce, in his hands. �She�s with her parents,� he answered, a bit sadly. He set the plate down in front of her, and then looked a bit flustered. �I�m sorry,� he said a moment later. �I didn�t ask if-�
She put a hand on his. His skin was soft, surprisingly so for a man. �No, it�s okay,� she assured him. �I like pasta.�
He smiled with a touch of relief, and then sat down at the chair across from her. There was a moment of silence as they dug into their food, and then he spoke.
�I haven�t even asked you your name yet,� he mused. �Where are my manners?�
She smiled. �My name�s Andrea. What�s yours?�
He looked up at her as he swallowed a mouthful of pasta. �Eric.�
She nodded, the smile turning into a short laugh. �Nice to meet you, Eric.�
He cocked his head to one side in a way she somehow found absolutely adorable. �What is it?� he asked.
She shrugged, the laugh tapering off slowly. �This just isn�t what I had pictured in my mind when I was on my way over here tonight.�
He smiled, and then laughed a little himself. �I guess you�re used to guys being a little more direct with their demands, huh?� He caught a flash of something in her eyes as she looked back down at her food. �Is this...your first time?� he ventured.
She nodded.
He chuckled softly. �Let me guess. Your boss told you tonight would be a real easy starter job.�
She looked up at him, nervously, had she upset him somehow?
He nodded, looking down at the table before replying. �I guess it is, in comparison.�
They ate in silence for another few minutes before she spoke again. �So, don�t you want to know what got me in this line of work?�
He looked up at her, cocking his head to one side again. �I would normally find that a little rude, but if you feel like volunteering the information...�
She nodded, smiling. �I�m paying off a huge college loan while I get established. I decided to hunt for jobs by day and do this at night.�
�What is your field, exactly?� he asked as he took a bite of his spaghetti.
�I�m an interior designer,� she replied.
He smiled, mulling the idea over in his mind. �An interior designer. Hmm.� He looked at her, a bit impishly. �And can I get your professional opinion of my humble abode?�
She smiled back a little, relaxing. He was playing with her, but she didn�t mind. �Actually,� she began, assessing the room, �it�s not a bad use of space. The paintings add quite a bit to the color, and the mirror on the far wall helps to create a greater depth.�
He nodded, contemplating her response, before attacking his food once again. �My wife�s idea.�
She finished her plate of food in two more quick bites. She was still a little worried about the whole wife thing, but how to broach the subject?
As he finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood, taking her plate as well. As he strode into the kitchen, he called to her over his shoulder. �If you feel like it, there�s a bathroom upstairs. Take a shower, freshen up, whatever you�d like.�
She sat for another moment before answering. �Thank you,� she said simply, and got up slowly. She headed up the stairs.
�It�s on the right,� he called from below.
She climbed the stairs and walked through the first door on the right. She flicked on the light and gasped. The bathroom was gorgeous. The grey tile on the floor blended softly into a fog wall treatment, complimented by dark blue towels and a slate grey bathtub. She disrobed and climbed into the tub, pulling the frosted glass door closed. She turned the water on and adjusted the temperature before running the shower. As the warm water poured over her naked body, she kept one eye on the door, somehow feeling extremely vulnerable.
Stop it, she told herself. This is your job. If he decides this is how it�s going to be, then it�s your job to take it quietly. Who knows, she thought. You might even like it.
She relaxed--only a little--and finished her shower. When she turned off the water, she reached for a towel and dried herself off. When she pulled the towel down from her head and looked up, there was a robe hanging from the hook on the back of the door.
She dried the rest of her body and slipped into the silk robe. It was soft and smooth against her skin, and she sighed.
When she stepped out into the hall, he was standing a few feet away, holding a mug in his hand. �I made you some hot chocolate,� he said softly.
She took the mug in her hands, feeling its warmth. She thanked him and took a sip. It was sweet and creamy. She savored the flavor for a moment before speaking. �So, how long, um, has your wife been gone?�
He looked down at the wine colored carpet. �Two years and three months,� he replied quietly.
Her eyebrows arched in surprise, not expecting the answer that she had received. �That�s...quite a long time.� When no reply was forthcoming, she probed gently, �Did you have any kids?�
He shook his head. �We didn�t have time.�
She nodded. �It seems like that�s the one thing no one has anymore. Do you think you guys might ever get back together?�
He smiled. �I hope so...someday. But not anytime soon, I imagine.�
The silence returned, and they stood there, him with his hands in his pockets, her sipping at her hot chocolate. The awkward moment slowly, agonizingly, faded. He looked up at her, as though he was memorizing her face, her eyes, and the way she looked in the robe.
�What�s the matter?� she asked.
He shook his head before that smile crossed his face again. �Nothing.� He laughed. �Nothing at all.�
The saxophones were still wailing downstairs. He took the empty cup from her and headed back down to the kitchen. She followed him after a moment.
He put the cup in the sink, filling it with hot water, and turned to her as she entered behind him. �Would you like anything else?� he asked. �Some cookies, or...�
She shook her head. �No, thanks. I�m fine.� What was his game? Was he as nervous as she was? He didn�t seem to be.
After a moment, he spoke again. �I�m rather tired. I think I might retire to bed. If you�d care to stay, you�re welcome. You can sleep with me, or if that makes you uncomfortable, there is a guest room across the hall from the bathroom.�
Always the gentleman, she noted. �No,� she said, playing along. �I don�t mind sleeping with you.�
He smiled, nodding slightly, and walked up the stairs. She followed him up and into the bedroom at the end of the hall.
He turned on the lamp by his bed before flicking off the switch at the wall. The room was bathed in a soft, gentle glow. He turned back the covers, and she took a deep breath. He pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. As he stepped out of them, she slowly let the robe slip from her shoulders.
This is it, she told herself. Relax. It can�t be that bad.
He looked up at her and smiled. She walked slowly over to the bed and climbed in next to him. He reached over and turned off the lamp.
There was silence, save for the last track of the CD playing downstairs. She moved close to him, feeling his breath on her face. She reached down, her hand sliding into his boxer shorts, and wrapping around-
She felt his hand close gently around her wrist, and she froze.
He smiled in the darkness, almost picturing the surprise on her face as he pulled her hand gently out of his shorts. Yep, he thought to himself, she�s definitely new.
He leaned in toward her and kissed her cheek, feeling her soft skin against his lips, then rolled over, closing his eyes.
�Do you know what I miss the most, Andrea?� he asked in the darkness.
She shook her head, her hair rustling against the pillow. �What�s that, Eric?�
He sighed, and that sigh hung in the air like damp linen on a cold winter morning. �The way she used to hold me. The way her breath sounded in the dead of the night. The feeling of her lying next to me.�
She slowly inched her way over to where he lay, reaching out. She wrapped her arms around him, and she could feel him soften, almost melt, in her arms.
�Carolyn, I�ve missed you,� she heard him whisper after a few minutes.
She hesitated a moment, then whispered back, �And I�ve missed you.�
He lapsed back into silent slumber, and Andrea watched him for a long time in the darkness, tears running down her cheeks. After a long while, she, too, fell asleep.
It felt as though she had been out for only a few minutes before she heard his voice.
�Time to pound the pavement, Andrea. I�ve got a feeling in my bones, today you�ll find that job.�
She looked around slowly, the morning sun greeting her sleepy eyes. She glanced over at the clock. It was 8 A.M. She had slept the whole night.
�I�m sorry,� she said quickly, climbing out of bed. �Did I...�
He laughed. �Relax. You�re fine. Can I get you some breakfast?�
�No thanks,� she replied. �I don�t eat breakfast.�
He shrugged, buttoning his shirt. �Some coffee?�
She shook her head. �I�ll just collect my stuff and go.�
He nodded, tucking his shirt into his pants. �Whatever you like.�
She gathered her clothes from the bathroom, where she had left them, and dressed. He met her downstairs, and she headed for the door. He reached for his wallet as he stood next to her at the front door. He pulled out a wad of bills and thumbed through them. As he flipped the bills back in his hands, he asked idly, �How much was that loan you were paying off?�
She blinked. The question had caught her off guard. �Thirty thousand.�
He nodded, counting quietly. He peeled off some bills and handed them to her. �Well, good luck with it,� he said after a moment.
She glanced down at the money. It looked like one thousand, which sounded about right according to what she had been told. That was six hundred for the service, and four hundred for her. At that rate, she would only have to do this for...she did the math in her head and her stomach turned. They wouldn�t all be like Eric. She knew that.
She extended her hand, and he took it with a smile. �Good luck, Andrea,� he said again, more warmly this time. �I hope you find your way soon. This is no life for a wonderful person such as yourself.�
Andrea blushed slightly, smiling back at him. �Thank you. I hope you and your wife work things out.�
Eric chuckled softly, looking down at the floor. �Yes, well, me too.�
There was an awkward moment of silence, and Andrea broke it by leaning in and kissing Eric on the cheek. She whispered one more good-bye before heading out the door.
Eric stood there in the foyer, lost in thought. Slowly, he reached up to touch the spot where her lips met his skin. There was something about her. Something...
He smiled, and then walked back upstairs.
Later that night, Andrea opened the front door and strode into the escort service, hoping for a decent job for the evening. She had tried all day not to get her hopes up--they would not all be like Eric, she told herself over and over.
Stop it, she commanded. Eric is married. Eric wants to be back with his wife. He was an assignment, nothing more. Focus on the job at hand if you want to ever make it out of this.
The owner greeted her almost immediately. �Oh, good, you�re here,� she greeted Andrea. �Someone came by earlier and dropped this off for you.� She held up Andrea�s wool coat.
Andrea smiled and took it. �Thank you.�
The owner shook her head. �Don�t thank me. Now, I have another assignment for you. This one�s kind of strange. He wants you to meet him at Sunset Park. You know where that is?�
She nodded. �Yes, I do.�
The owner pulled out a slip of paper with the directions scrawled on it. �Just in case. He wants you to meet him at the swings at 7:30.� She looked at her watch. �That gives you forty-five minutes.�
Andrea nodded again, smiling. �Thank you. I�ll call you at the end of the evening.�
The owner smiled back. �Please do. Be careful.�
Andrea acknowledged with a wave as she headed out the door. At least this guy had an imaginative streak. The evening could be fun after all.
She paused. If he had a creative streak, that could also mean...
She shrugged off the thought. So be it, she supposed. If that�s what he wants, that�s your job.
She slipped on her coat and felt a bulge in the pocket. She reached her hand inside and pulled out a thick envelope. Her brow furrowed as she opened it. Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened.
The envelope was stuffed with hundred dollar bills.
She ran over to her car and locked herself inside securely before pulling them out and counting them.
Thirty thousand dollars.
She laughed hysterically as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. Clipped to the last bill was a scrap of paper. She wiped her eyes and held it up to the meager light of her dome lamp.
Go and live your dreams.
-Eric
For a brief moment, all sorts of thoughts flashed through her mind--the prevailing one being to tell her boss to shove this assignment. Integrity won out, however. In all the time that she had worked, from flipping burgers to that lousy bookstore job, she had never quit without notice. She would work this last assignment. If it turned out well, so much the better. If it didn�t, well, at least she had a clearer view of men. It might even be good for her, she reasoned.
Enough rationalizing, she thought. I�m going to be late.
She started the car and drove off.
Eric sat by the window, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon. He wiped the tears from his cheeks as he spoke again.
�You know I always loved you. You know I always will. I want you with me, Carolyn, and I know I said I�d wait forever. But it�s just too hard, darling.�
He took a long, deep breath before speaking again.
�I guess what I�m saying is that I have to move on. I�ve come to realize that you�re never going to come back. As hard as that is to accept, I�ll have to work through it.�
The tears came again. He silently cursed them. They never seemed to end.
�I�ll always cherish what we had. I�ll always long for you. But this...it�s not fair to let this go on. I hope you can forgive me.�
That was it, he supposed. There was nothing more to say. He sat back and listened to the silence that replied, closing his eyes and squeezing the last of his tears free from the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away, stood, and picked up the picture on the table. He put it back on the stereo, then thought for a moment and shook his head. He picked it up again and carried it upstairs to the attic.
There were so many memories locked away in this tiny room, he mused. There were the dried flowers from their wedding, the gifts from the wedding guests--the ones that never seemed to serve any purpose, no matter how hard they tried to find one. There was the title to the land on which he stood, and the photographs of the two of them standing outside the house--the house they�d bought together.
It seemed like so long ago.
It was supposed to last forever.
He shook his head as he opened up the dresser drawer to his right.
Nothing lasts forever.
He placed the picture lovingly inside the drawer and slowly closed it. He stood there, in the cool, dank air for a moment longer before heading back downstairs.
He headed for the front closet to retrieve his coat, and then paused. There was something left undone. Something he�d been putting off for a long time. He went back upstairs to the bedroom and opened his dresser drawer. With a long and heavy sigh he fought back the tears as he pulled out the old, worn newspaper. He looked at the headline once more as he reached for the matches atop the dresser.
LOCAL WOMAN, PARENTS KILLED IN AUTO ACCIDENT
He gave up the fight and let the tears roll down as he lit a match and set it to the corner of the paper. He watched it burn in his hand for a moment before he tossed it into the fireplace. The flames danced and flickered, distorted by the tears, before finally dying away into smoldering embers.
�Good-bye, Carolyn,� he whispered hoarsely, then turned and headed back downstairs. As he passed the window on his way out, he paused and looked out at the park across the street. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:15.
Destiny waits for no man.
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