The Last Exhale Part 28

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 pa.s.sion. 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 salt.w.a.ter. 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."

53.

SYDNEY.

My 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. G.o.d.

Just a few hours ago, not only was I trying to have s.e.x 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 s.h.i.+rt, 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.

54.

BRANDON.

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.

Dad firmly grips the meat between my neck and shoulder as we file into the elevator. Does that to give me support without saying anything.

In the elevator's mirror I see my mom's red-rimmed eyes. She's had a hard time ever since they came into town. I hadn't told them about Rene. Saying anything would've only made things worse for me. I'm sure my brother filled them in, but I know they probably didn't think it was to the extent that it was. Mom's loved Rene since the moment I brought her home. They had a great relations.h.i.+p, the kind mother's dream of having with their son's wife. I pull her into my arms, hold her tight.

Once the elevator doors open, she pulls away. Looks up at me, "I'm okay, honey. I'm okay," she says and kisses me lightly on the lips.

I stop my parents from getting off the elevator. "I really appreciate you both being here."

"Son, we wouldn't have it any other way," Dad says.

"But you came for Andrew."

My father puts up his hand, silences my guilt.

Andrew is in his wheelchair parked in the middle of the lobby, Melissa wheels him our way as we approach. "How are you holding up?" he asks.

"Hanging in there," barely comes out.

Despite his feelings toward my situation with Sydney, my brother has been by my side since the day my wife pa.s.sed away. He's been nothing but supportive, even offered for me to stay at his house as long as I needed to. I couldn't do that, couldn't have him looking after me while his wife looked after him because of my indiscretions. I've been selfish enough.

The sun greets us the moment we step outside. Once my eyes readjust from temporary blindness, I see a long row of cars lined up behind our limo. Though I wanted a small ceremony, seeing all the cars out front puts warmth in my heart. I'm amazed at the support for my wife. She was there for many of them during their time of bereavement. Feels good to know her work was greatly appreciated by the community.

Peter opens the door for me. He extends his hand toward mine. "Whatever I can do to make this time comfortable for you, just let me know. I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Peter." I shake his hand and draw him in for a hug. "You were a good friend to her, a good partner for the business. I'll always appreciate you for that."

He pulls me to the side, gets close to my face. "I know this is hard, but Rene made peace with everything. Shortly after coming to terms with this, she asked me to come with her to church. We prayed together. She'd asked G.o.d to forgive her for what she'd done to Reggie and what she allowed guilt to do to her and your marriage. She asked G.o.d to forgive her for what she made you do." He wraps his hand around mine, gives it a gentle squeeze. "She wanted me to tell you she doesn't blame you."

I do my best to let his words comfort me.

My dad and Peter help put Andrew in the limo while Mel folds up the chair. I wait for all of them to get in the car before I do. As we ride to the church, I'm saddened by the fact that not much of Rene's family is here. Most of them have already gone on. Knowing she's with them now gives me comfort. No one says much in the car. So much has happened over the past couple of weeks, I think everyone is traveling in their own thoughts.

"Pa.s.s me not, oh gentle Savior, hear my humble cry," the choir sings as the church doors open.

The first thing I see is Rene's white casket staring back at me. My feet feel like they're sinking deeper into a bottomless pit as I make my way to the front of the church. Somehow I make it. I can't bring myself to look at her. I stand above her casket with my eyes closed until I feel my brother's hand on my back. I want to stand here forever, but I know I can't.

Scriptures are read, songs are sung, words are shared. Several times, I blank out, drift back to more joyful times. I remember a time Rene told me about driving to pick up a family who had lost both children in a swimming accident. Peter told her he was having stomach issues since that morning and needed to go home. They were shorthanded that day and she really needed him. Once he closed the family up in the car and got behind the wheel, the pressure from sitting down was so great a long fart ripped from his rear. Rene said it smelled like a camel on broil in the middle of a Las Vegas summer. Seconds later, she heard coughs coming from the back of the car.

When she told me the story, she laughed so hard she started snorting. Thinking about that causes me to belt out a laugh. I mean, a Miss-Sofia-rocking-back-and-forth-at-the-middle-of-dinner-in-The-Color-Purple kind of laugh. One of the ushers comes over and starts fanning me. They must think I'm on the verge of having a major breakdown. Makes me laugh even harder until tears begin to spring from my eyes.

A young lady and man approach the microphone. A few chords are played from the piano before voices begin singing. "Sorry, I never told you, all I wanted to say. And now it's too late to hold you, cause you've flown away, so far away."

Their rendition of Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey's "One Sweet Day" causes me to straighten up real quick. There's so much I still wanted to share with my wife, so much I wanted to tell her and hear her tell me. This is unfair, so f.u.c.king unfair. I want to run up to the casket, pull her out and shake her, ask her, "Why didn't you just go to the doctor?"

My emotions are betraying me. One minute I'm hurting, the next I'm ready to fight someone. It was so much easier to deal with her falling out of love with me than having to put her six feet under.

"Whyyyyyy?" I want to scream out.

My father puts his hand on my thigh, does his best to calm me before I erupt.

I put my hand on top of his, grip it like my sanity depends on it. I feel so much pain in my heart, so much pain I'm barely able to breathe.

"Darling, I never showed you. a.s.sumed you'd always be there."

I showed Rene how much I loved her from the moment we met. Never did I take her presence for granted. She knew this. I knew it. I loved that woman. But my actions in her last days were everything but love. Only reason I moved out was to prove a point. Wanted to make her mad and come running back to me, beg me to come back to her. My plan failed and pushed me further away from getting my wife back. Now I've lost her forever. I don't deserve to be here. I don't deserve to mourn.

I'm no longer holding my father's hand, no longer am I sitting. I'm standing in front of Rene's casket.

"You want to do this?" Peter's voice shakes when he asks me that.

I don't nod, don't say yes. I just stand there.

Rene's body is lowered into the casket. I look at her for the first time. Peter granted her wishes and made her look exactly like the picture she gave him. She looks like the woman I fell in love with on our first date. Her skin glows as if she's standing in front of the sun. Her lips the color of kissing a thousand roses. I want to kiss her, kiss her like I did on that first date. I do. I bend over and place my lips on hers for the last time.

The fabric on the sides of the casket are folded over her body. Her lips are formed into a smile. I know she's up in heaven with our son in her arms. Her mother and father are with her, all of them beginning their eternal life together. She smiles because now she is at peace. No more worrying about lumps appearing in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and traveling to other parts of her body, no more fearing the same fate as the women in her family who'd gone on before her. She's free from the guilt of feeding our son bad milk. She's free of having to push me away, free of making me hate her. She's free so I can be free. I do my best to tell myself that smile is for me.

Something is placed in my hand. I look down, see Bear in my hand. Andrew's next to me in his wheelchair. I didn't know he had brought my son's noseless bear with him. I bring the bear up to my face, rub my nose against the spot its nose used to be.

I uncover Rene's arm and tuck the only thing that brought her comfort in her final hours underneath. Put the sheet back over her arm.

Mel wheels Andrew back to his spot on the side of the aisle while I stand back and watch as Peter closes the lid. This is the last time I'll place my eyes on Rene. Feels like the sun's just gone down on my heart. Need someone to carry me back to my seat.