Perfect Chaos

“Are you fucking crazy?” I shout, keeping a firm hold of her. “We’ll talk. I’ll talk to you.” I drag her over to the edge, continuously battling with her squirming body. Gasping for air, I put her hands on the edge, making sure she has a solid hold before I let go. Her white knuckles tell me she’s going nowhere as she splutters and heaves next to me, while I try to catch a breath. “Jesus, Lainey,” I breathe. “You can’t fucking kill yourself, woman.” The thought of no Lainey sends shivers down my spine as I hoist myself up onto my forearms on the side, keeping a close eye on her. “I couldn’t live without you.” My lungs deflate, using the last scrap of air to get the words out there.

She looks at me, her hair all over her face, her eyes wide. “You couldn’t?”

I shake my head, now out of breath completely.

She smiles faintly. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Tyler.”

I can only raise my brows in question.

“I wanted . . .” Lainey’s not without a struggle herself, each word broken and forced through fitful breaths. “I wanted to do something.”

“What?”

“Get out of the pool.”

“Are you mad? No way.” I take her arm, ready to push her out.

“Tyler, please.” She wriggles free again, never releasing her hold of the side. “I need to show you something.” She pleads with me through her eyes, her face serious and determined. “Please.”

It’s so unnatural for me to leave her in the water, and though I surrender to her insistence, I’m hyper alert as I pull myself out of the pool, watching her like a hawk.

She looks up at me, her face harboring that fear I’m all too familiar with. “Go to the other end,” she orders, and I look to the shallow end of the pool, noting it’s way too far away.

“No.” I shake my head, adamant. I’d make it to her, no question, but I don’t need to. Not when I can remain exactly where I am. “Lainey, this is all very admirable and brave of you, but it’s not necessary.” I’m so not comfortable with her in the water. Not without me there to support her.

Returning my attention to her, I find a face full of begging, and I close my eyes briefly, exhaling a defeated breath. “Fine,” I mutter, walking backward to the other end so I don’t lose sight of her.

When I make it to the shallow end, I stop and watch as Lainey scans the expanse of frightening, calm water before her, fear apparent on every inch of her face. I take the first step down into the water so my ankles are submerged, ready to dive in at any moment. I see the long inhale of breath she draws, and I see her pull her feet up to the wall of the pool. Then she cautiously pushes herself away, and I hold my breath. Her head is high above the surface, her eyes frightened, as she pretty much doggy-paddles her away across the pool to me.

Shit. I think I might cry.

Her eyes, they’re fixed on me, and I’m not about to let them go, encouraging her with my gaze as I take the few last steps down into the pool. Her efforts become more strained the closer she gets to me, seeming to take a lifetime to swim the length that I can do myself in twenty seconds. Her stamina is waning. Her moves are becoming messier.

But I let her be, knowing she wants to do this, though why is still beyond me. By the time I’m up to my waist in the pool, she’s mere feet away from me, and the urge to reach for her nearly gets the better of me. She could touch the bottom now if she tried, yet I know she won’t try, because she’s too scared that she won’t find the tiles beneath her. Come on, baby, I say to myself. You can do it. Her head is getting lower, water lapping at her chin, a few splashes making it into her mouth, causing her to choke a little. That’s enough. She’s proved her point. My arms will no longer remain at my sides.

I stretch to grab her, hauling her toward me and attaching her to my front. She coils around me like a tight spring, puffing and panting into my neck. All of my woes, the heartache, and the blackness suddenly dulls. And there’s light. And feeling. My heart is swelling in my chest with pride and love, refusing to be ignored. It’s home. I love her. Fuck me, I love her and that can’t change. “Well done,” I whisper, clinging to her, so relieved to have her in my arms, not only because she’s no longer vulnerable in the water she hates so much, but because it’s where she belongs.