Every Breath

The whole situation still irritated her. Not only because he’d abandoned her this week, but because breaking up, even temporarily, had been so unnecessary in the first place. Couples argued. That’s what they did. And then afterward, they discussed the situation, learned from their mistakes, tried to forgive, and moved on from there. But Josh didn’t seem to understand that notion, and it left her questioning whether the two of them still had a future.

Sometimes she asked herself why she still wanted him in her life, but deep down, she knew the answer. As furious as she was with him and as frustrating as she found some of his ingrained traits, he was whip-smart and handsome enough to make her heart lurch. Even after all these years, Hope could still get lost in his dark violet eyes. Despite his weekends with the guys, she knew he loved her; a few years earlier, when Hope had been in a car accident, Josh had raced immediately from work and refused to leave her hospital bedside for two straight days. When her dad needed referrals to a neurologist, Josh had taken control of that situation, earning the gratitude of her entire family. He looked after her in little ways, taking her car in for oil changes or to rotate her tires, and every once in a while he would surprise her with a home-cooked dinner. At family gatherings and with her friends, Josh remembered details of everyone’s lives and had a gracious knack for making them feel at ease.

They also shared the same interests. They both enjoyed hiking and concerts and had the same taste in music; in the past six years, they’d traveled to New York City, Chicago, Cancun, and the Bahamas, and every one of those getaways had validated her reasons for being with him. When life with Josh was good, it felt like everything she wanted, forever. But when it wasn’t good, she admitted, it was terrible. She suspected there might be something addictive about those dramatic ups and downs, but she had no way to know for sure. All she knew was that as unbearable as life with him sometimes felt, she couldn’t quite imagine life without him, either.

Up ahead, Scottie was trotting and sniffing, weaving toward terns and sending them into deeper water. Changing directions, he raced for the dune for no reason that Hope could deduce. When they got back to the cottage, he’d probably spend the rest of the morning comatose with exhaustion. Thank God for small favors.

She took another sip of coffee, wishing things were different. Her parents made marriage seem effortless; her sisters were cut from the same cloth. Even her friends seemed to float along in their relationships while she and Josh were either soaring or sinking. And why had her most recent argument with Josh been their worst ever?

Thinking back, she suspected that she had been as much to blame as he was. He was stressed about work, and she was admittedly stressed about…well, their future, actually. But instead of finding solace in each other’s company, they had let the stress slowly amplify over a period of months until it finally blew. She couldn’t even remember how the argument had started other than that she’d mentioned Ellen’s upcoming wedding, and Josh had grown quiet. It was clear he was upset about something, but when she asked what was wrong, Josh told her it was nothing.

Nothing.

She hated that word. It was a way to end conversations, not begin them, and maybe she shouldn’t have pressed him about it. But she had, and for whatever reason, what had originally begun as the mere mention of a friend’s wedding turned into shouts and screams, and the next thing she knew, Josh was storming out the door to spend the night at his brother’s house. The following day, he’d told Hope that he thought they needed to take a break to evaluate things, and a few days after that, he’d texted to say that he and his buddies were heading to Las Vegas the week of the wedding.

That had been almost a month ago. They’d talked on the phone a few times since then, but those calls had done little to soothe her, and he hadn’t called at all in nearly a week. She wished she could roll back the clock and start over, but what she really wanted was for Josh to feel the same way. And for him to apologize. His reaction to the argument had been so over-the-top; it felt as though it hadn’t been enough to sink the knife in her heart; he’d needed to twist it as well. Things like that didn’t bode well in the long run, but would he ever change? And if not, where did that leave her? She was thirty-six years old, unmarried, and the last thing she wanted was to start over in the dating scene. She couldn’t even imagine it. What was she supposed to do—hang out at bars while guys like Josh’s friends hit on her? No, thank you. Besides, she’d devoted six years to Josh; she didn’t want to believe that it had been a waste of time. As crazy as he could sometimes make her feel, he had so many good qualities…

She finished her coffee. Up ahead, she saw a man walking near the water’s edge. Scottie raced past him, closing fast on another flock of seagulls. She tried to immerse herself in the ocean view, watching the ripples shift from yellow to gold in the morning light. The waves were mild and the sea was calm; her dad would tell her that it likely meant a storm was coming, but Hope decided not to mention that to Ellen if her friend called again. Ellen wouldn’t want to hear it.

Hope ran a hand through her hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear. There were wispy clouds on the horizon, the kind that would likely burn off as the morning progressed. It would be a perfect afternoon for a glass of wine, maybe some cheese and crackers, or even oysters on the half shell. Add some candles and some sultry R&B, and…

Why was she thinking such things?

With a sigh, she focused on the waves, recalling that as a little girl, she used to play in them for hours. Sometimes she rode a boogie board, other times it was fun diving under them as they broke overhead. More often than not, her dad would join her in the water for a while, and the memories brought with them a tinge of sadness.

Soon, she thought, her dad would never enter the ocean again.

Staring out over the water, Hope reminded herself that she was fretting over first-world problems. It wasn’t as though she were worrying about whether she’d eat today, or have a safe place to sleep. The water she drank didn’t heighten her risk of contracting cholera or dysentery; she had clothing, and an education, and the list went on and on and on.

Her dad—what with his leaf story and all—wouldn’t want her to worry about him. And as for Josh, more than likely, he’d come around. Of their four previous breakups, none had lasted longer than six weeks, and in each case, it had been Josh who’d suggested that they start over. As for Hope, she was a big believer in the philosophy If you love something, set it free, and if it comes back it loves you. Common sense told her that begging someone to stay was often the same as begging someone to love you, and she was wise enough to know that never worked.

Turning from the water, she began to meander down the beach again. Shading her eyes, she searched for Scottie up ahead but couldn’t find him. She scanned the area behind her, wondering how he could have slipped past her, but he wasn’t there, either. Other than her, the beach was empty, and she felt the first twinge of worry. On previous walks, it had sometimes taken her a few seconds to locate him, but he wasn’t the kind of dog that would simply run off. It occurred to her that he might have chased some birds into the water and gotten caught in an undertow, but Scottie never swam in the ocean. And yet, he was…gone.

It was then that she spotted someone walking over the dune a short distance up the beach. Her dad still would have made a big deal about that. Dunes were fragile and people were supposed to use the public access paths if there were no steps to the beach, but…whatever. She had more immediate concerns…

She peered ahead and behind, her gaze returning to the man. He’d reached the beach, and she thought she’d ask him whether he’d seen Scottie. It was doubtful, but she didn’t know what else to do. Veering in his direction, she absently noticed that he seemed to be carrying something. Whatever it was blended in with the white shirt he was wearing, and it took her a moment to realize that he had Scottie in his arms. She picked up her pace.

The man walked toward her, moving with an almost animal-like grace. He was dressed in faded jeans and a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows. As he approached, she noticed his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing chest muscles that indicated both exercise and an active life. He had dark blue eyes, like the sky in late afternoon, and coal-black hair that was turning gray near his ears. When he offered a sheepish smile, she noted the dimple on his chin and an unexpected familiarity in his expression, one that strangely made her feel as if they’d known each other all their lives.