We Are US...

  "Suzanne... I have to go. I'm so sorry, love, but I'm leaving you."

  Huh. His words I understand. Even his facial expressions are known by me. His face still screams love, mixed with sadness, but his face also has the look of stubborn finality I have come to know intimately with Z. I know that look, but just not as it suddenly applies to me. I know what he said, but I have no concept of what he's actually saying to me.

  "What? Um..." Giggle. Shit.

  "I'll be at the Connaught. I already have a suite. I'll text you the number so you can call me for anything."

  "But-"

  "Anything, Suzanne. I will always help you if or when you need it, though we both know I'm not enough for you anymore," he finally says with tears in his eyes. Shocked, I dive for him but he actually holds his hands out to keep me away from him for the first time ever.

  "Um..." Holy shit. Can I speak? Can I say a friggin' word here? Just one word that doesn't sound like a grunt of some kind. "But." Yup. That was a word.

  "I love you, Suzanne. But I'm leaving you."

  Ummmm... Giggle.

  NO!

  Watching in shock as Z walks out our front door, I do nothing. I don't know if I'm breathing, or coherent, or even still mentally sound. I feel like I'm okay, but I know I'm not. There's no way I could be. Z is everything to me.

  Waiting for him to renter, I try to be patient but I can't. Jumping for the door I rip it open only to hear the ding of the elevator already closed going down.

  Still not believing he left I walk down our side of the hall and wait, but I'm not sure what I think’ll happen. Maybe the old fashioned hands will slow their decent. Or maybe they'll just stop moving completely like they changed their mind. Maybe the little brass hands will change their mind and not leave me to slowly start climbing back to me.

  I'm not sure, but it looks like they're moving slower. Maybe? Yes. I think they are definitely slowing down between floors 6 and 5.

  Watching, I'm mesmerized. Watching, I'm hypnotized.

  Watching, I'm stunned.

  Did I know this was coming? Yes. Did I actually think this would happen? No. I really didn't think he would ever leave me.

  Z promised me if I just loved him he would always stay. He promised no matter what happened, if I loved him he would never leave me. He promised. But I still love him and he's leaving me anyway.

  Z said everything would always be us. He promised so many things, but he lied to me. Z left after he promised to stay.

  Sitting in the hallway, I know I should be crying or something, but I'm just so, I don't know, I think stunned, or mad maybe. Yes, I'm mad at Z. No, I'm furious with him. He lied to me. Over and over again he lied every single time he promised he'd never leave me.

  Every single "Suzanne, I love you so much," or "Suzanne, there is only you," or even "I can't live without you in my life, Suzanne," was a lie. Z was a compulsive liar, and I believed him.

  Just because I was going to leave him first, doesn't change the fact that he left me. He didn't know I was going to leave him, but he prepared to leave me anyway.

  Okay. Done.

  Z lied. And he left me just because I was going to leave him forever.

  EXHALE

  CHAPTER 10

  Z

  Well, that went well.

  Holy Fuck!

  What the hell just happened? I thought she would lie. I hoped she would lie. Never in my most insane nightmares did I actually think she would admit everything and say goodbye to me. Jesus fucking Christ. I actually thought I meant more to her than that.

  Walking in the underground parking to my black Escalade, courtesy of Suzanne of course, I suddenly can't breathe when I realize what just happened in our condo.

  Suzanne wanted to die and I left her. In one goddamn night.

  Trying to breathe with my hand on my chest like that’ll help, I start to panic a little. Fuck! Now I know what Suzanne feels like when she can't breathe. It's fucking scary, and weird, and just wrong. We're always supposed to be able to breathe.

  Stopping to lean against a pillar in the garage, I really need to calm down. Slowly in and out like I always tell her, I start trying to breathe. Slowly, like I can control my lungs and my own body, I breathe. Slowly, like I always say to her... but it isn't working.

  Almost laughing as I gasp a little for breath again, I want to howl at this sad irony now that I finally understand the panic she feels.

  Fuck me. I can't breathe. And it sucks. And if I felt this as often as Suzanne does, I'd be fucked in the head too, I start laughing on another gasp.

  Hunched over my own legs, I breathe as slowly as I can until the breaths come a little easier and the chest pain lessens slightly. Waiting, I find after a few minutes I'm functional enough to at least make it to my truck before collapsing in the garage where the cameras will see me.

  It’s bad enough they’re probably watching me lean here like I’m going to puke or pass out, but if I actually do I’ll never be able to face security again.

  Opening the door, I drag my numb body into the front seat, and the sight of my white knuckles clenched around the steering wheel look like claws but somehow clenching seems to help me breathe better. Maybe it's just the distraction, or maybe it's my intense need to strangle something distracting me so I can breathe. I don't know, but I'm slowly feeling better.

  Waiting to leave my condo, I look around and realize I love my truck. It's a little showy as Suzanne said with a smirk, but it’s also very functional and safe. I think I wanted the safety of a huge truck so no accident could ever hurt her again. Or maybe I wanted it so I could mow over anyone who tried to hurt her again.

  Actually, I remember that from the dealership. I remember thinking I could run over anyone or anything trying to hurt her in this deluxe edition Escalade. I also remember how she thought it was way too much until I saw her look over at the solid black and chrome edition, and that was it. I had wanted silver before we arrived, but seeing her reaction to the black SUV sealed the deal for me.

  Suzanne and all her goddamn black.

  Eventually arriving at the Connaught, I don’t remember driving the streets I’ve always known or passing the buildings that can still impress a homegrown New Yorker. I don’t remember anything, and I really can't believe I'm here. I'm mean, yeah, there’s really nowhere else for me to go tonight, but I honestly can't believe I'm actually here.

  This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I wasn't supposed to be suddenly leaving my wife, or struggling, or living in a fucking hotel again. This isn't what I want, but it's what I'm left with suddenly.

  Fuck! I wasn't supposed to lose her.

  Entering the promenade, I hand over my keys to the valet and grab my wallet, phone and nothing else. There wasn't time to bring anything else, and really what the hell would I bring? Everything I've ever wanted is back in our condo. But everything I've ever wanted didn't want me back enough to live.

  Fuck Suzanne, and her fucking shit!

  Signing in and grabbing my room key card, I feel exhausted. I'm sure it's not the same kind of exhaustion that Suzanne struggles with, but I'm mentally wiped suddenly. I want to get in my room and chill. Christ, another thing she said to me. 'You have to chill, Z' with her little laugh that always made me smile.

  God, I love her little laugh. Not her scary something’s wrong giggle, but her actual laugh. Whenever Suzanne laughed I felt it inside me like it was my own. If one of the goddamn Kaylas made her laugh I always grinned as she lit up, even though it pissed me off, too, because I always wanted to be the one who made her laugh. I used to think it was my job to make her laugh, because Suzanne laughing is such a treat and an anomaly for all of us, we almost spend time trying to make her laugh, just to see her light up.

  I'm pathetic, actually. Jesus Christ, there were days I stock piled funny moments at work so I could tell Suzanne at home, hoping to hear her laugh for me. And when I succeeded I could always count on her hugging me afterward, because that’s what she does
. After she laughs, she always leans into the person who made her laugh and she hugs them. It's such a little gesture, but it means the world to me. And really, to everyone else as well.

  It's such a sweet Suzanne thing. Make her laugh, and she feels such happiness in that moment, she unconsciously needs to hug you to let you know she feels it and loves you for making her laugh. Or maybe she unconsciously needs to hug you because she actually found something to laugh about in her life. I don’t know, but it’s sad she still feels that way, almost surprised or confused that she laughed in spite of her life and past.

  Okay... I'm becoming a chick.

  Dropping my keys on the coffee table, I sink into the couch of my new hopefully temporary home and try to understand what happened. I don't know how I ended up here. And I don't understand what's happening anymore with her or us.

  I thought she was better, or getting better, or just better enough that the darkness wouldn't take her away from me again.

  But I was wrong.

  I could even see it coming. I knew she was getting fucked up again. I could see it and feel it with her. I knew it was coming, so I tried to help her however I could. I waited for her to need my help, and I watched to see the signs so I could get her help when I couldn't help her anymore.

  I talked to Phillips about it, and I talked to Mack a week before the wedding. I told the Kaylas I thought something was happening, and everyone knew to be on guard with her. They even knew to tell me if anything happened that looked like it might escalate. Everyone knew, but I'm still here anyway.

  I waited and watched and she even called me out on it. She accused me of making her worse with my watching, but she was wrong as usual. I didn't make her worse, she was getting worse. She just didn't know why, so she blamed my watching for it.

  I didn't cause this, or push it though. I was only watching what was already happening. I was trying to prevent it from getting worse by letting her know I was there for her if she needed me. I was watching and waiting and trying so hard to stop the darkness from taking her again, but I couldn't stop it.

  I didn't cause it though, her tragic past did, no matter what she thought or believed in her dark confusion. At least I know that to be true at this point.

  Slowly, I was seeing the changes in her. She was forgetting things, and messing things up. She was getting shaky all the time and I knew it was coming. I didn't know what was setting it off, but I tried to figure it out for her.

  I mean, I knew the newspaper article would hurt her. I knew that, so I tried to make it go away. In a mad panic I took the paper out of our condo hoping she wouldn't read the fucking news online that day, but she did anyway. And though she didn't say anything to me, I should've known she knew about it because of the Swiss Steak incident that very night.

  When I sat down for dinner that evening with her, her hands were shaking a little I noticed immediately. So I reached over the table to hold her hands without her knowing I knew they were shaking. I held her hands at the table and talked about my day until I tasted the meal, or whatever the hell it was she thought she cooked for us. And that's when I knew it was really starting. She was oblivious to what she served on our plates, and she honestly didn't know anything was wrong.

  Suzanne hates cooking, but when she does cook because she feels like it, it's always delicious. She cooks perfect meals when she cooks, and I love them. So when I bit into the burgundy nightmare on our plates, I knew something was clearly happening again.

  I mean the food wasn't only inedible, it was just so wrong. From the weird watery sauce, to the partially raw steak, I knew she had been distracted or fucked up when she tried to cook for me. I knew something had messed her up enough that she didn't know what she was doing when she was cooking.

  Casually, I made it a little joke though. And after she relaxed, we did make grilled cheese sandwiches and laughed and held each other and watched tv and she seemed relatively okay afterward, for not being okay.

  But then the night terrors took over, and she was a crazy psycho in her sleep again. She started talking, and mumbling, and crying as she slept. She started hitting me to stop hurting her, or begging me to help her. She was so scary when she slept, I was exhausted from constantly waking her with hugs until she relaxed and fell back asleep peacefully on my chest like we both like.

  And every morning she was absolutely exhausted though pretending she wasn't. But I could see the bags under her eyes started, and she was dragging her ass all the time but trying to look happy for me. She didn't know she was acting out in her sleep again because she never remembers her nights, and I didn't tell her what she was doing at the time because I didn’t want to freak her out if she didn’t know.

  It was so bad that early last week when my own sleepless exhaustion hit me hard, I found myself lying on the couch in my office, and before I knew it I had slept for over 5 hours. I was out cold, but no one knew I was sleeping because I had said I needed privacy and I shut my phones down. In my big office, I laid on the couch for just a minute I thought, and 5+ hours later I woke up feeling better than I had in a week.

  The sleepless nights were making me edgy, which of course made me edgier around Suzanne, who was also losing herself in her sleep, and in our reality. And yeah, basically, we were becoming a potential train wreck until I slept in my office and rejuvenated a little for her.

  Grabbing my phone, I can't wait. Fuck!

  "How was she?"

  "Good. She didn't fight or anything. When Phillips showed up only minutes after you left she was still just sitting in the hallway watching the elevators for you," Kayla says so sadly, I find my own heart ripped out of my chest.

  "She was by the elevators?" I choke trying to hold in the agony.

  "Yes." When there’s nothing else I suddenly want to scream. I didn't know what she would do after I left, but I didn't expect her to sit waiting for me in the hallway.

  "Phillips helped her stand up in the hallway and before he even explained what was happening, Suzanne was nodding and handing over her purse for transport. She didn't speak, argue, or deny anything."

  "Oh..." I feel like I was just kicked in the balls. When Suzanne doesn't even attempt to fight, it means she's just done with everything and everyone.

  "Z, listen to me. You're weren't wrong, and you did everything right. I would've done the same thing for her, and once Mack and Kayla find out Mack will agree with you."

  "I doubt Mack will agree."

  "He will, Z. You had no choice. She was actually going to go through with it this time. I'm sure of it." When Kayla suddenly sounds angry, I understand her anger, but I hate it. She shouldn't be mad at Suzanne.

  "Please don't be mad at her, Kayla. She doesn't mean to do this. She just doesn't see any other way out of the darkness. Or out of her past," I choke nearly crying.

  "I'm not mad at her, Z. Well, I am. But not really. I just don't understand how she gets to this place so quickly and so badly. And it pisses me off that she can't ever keep her shit together."

  "I know. Believe me, I feel pissed, too. But this isn't her fault. Suzanne can't help the way she thinks or feels, Kayla. It’s just her and she doesn't want to feel or think the way she does, believe me. But she can't control it, so she chooses-"

  "To fuck us all. And leave us because she's weak!"

  "Kayla! It is NOT her fault, and she's NOT weak. She's fucked up again, and I won't have you trashing her for this. Understood?" I yell back.

  I hate when Kayla gets all bitchy with Suzanne, even if it’s to be supportive. Suzanne doesn't need bitchy, she needs understanding right now even if I don’t understand her or what she wanted to do at all anymore.

  "Sure, Z," Kayla says right back like she doesn't give a shit about my anger, which she probably doesn't. "I'm flying out in the morning. I need to get the hell out of here for this."

  "Do you want me to take you to the airport?"

  "Nah... I'll call you when I get back to Chicago, okay?"

  "Thanks."


  "You did nothing wrong, Z. And Suzanne will understand that eventually. There was simply no other way to make her wake up then to pretend you were actually leaving her this time. You probably scared her enough to make her fight hard this time. You did good, Z."

  "Thank you. I, ah-"

  "Z, get drunk. Cry your eyes out, feel hungover for the next 3 days, then decide what happens after her hold is lifted. You have 3 days to just be a pathetic, drunken idiot while Suzanne is assessed okay?" I can almost hear the grin in her voice.

  "Okay. Thanks, Kayla. Have a safe flight."

  "I will. I’ll call you when I land. Let me know if anything happens or changes, okay?"

  "I will."

  "Good night, Z. You're the best, baby," she adds with a laugh as she hangs up.

  Smiling, I wonder if I am the best. But as the sadness returns, I realize I'm not. I didn't save Suzanne as a child, and I couldn't save her as an adult. Being her husband didn't help, and loving her didn't help. And now I've locked her up. Something I promised never to do to her, I did.

  In one night I did 2 of the three things she’s only ever asked of me. Her 3 horrible requests; Don't ever lock me up. Don't ever leave me. And please don't ever rape me, Z.

  In her broken, little voice, those were her only 3 requests ever of me, and I did 2 out of three tonight. The last one being so absurd, it was an absolute promise I would forever keep.

  I remember the feeling I had when she begged me not to rape her. It was repulsion, and insult, and horror. But I swallowed down everything I wanted to say to her, and I made the promise to her.

  Looking at her crying, begging eyes, I promised Suzanne I would never rape her. And I remember the exhale I received in return for my insane promise. She exhaled and again I was so offended I wanted to yell at her, but when she smiled I quickly realized it wouldn’t matter to her if I was offended. She had to ask and she needed my promise.