The Air He Breathes(75)

“I’m dead, Jamie, I’m dead,” I sobbed, unable to control my howls. “I want this to be over. I want this to stop. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Shh,” she whispered, placing her lips near my ear. “Baby, I need you to breathe. It’s okay.”

“Nothing’s okay. Nothing’s okay.”

I heard pounding on the bathroom door. “Tristan! It’s Dad. Son, let me in.”

I couldn’t, though. I was dead. I was dead.

Jamie looked down at the sink and picked up the emptied pill bottle and whiskey pint. “Baby, what did you do?” My back slid down the wall and I sat against the tub, sobbing. Jamie rushed over to me. “Tris, you have to throw up now.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” My hands covered my face, everything a blur. My mind was playing tricks on me. I was fading. I could feel myself fading.

“Baby, think of Charlie. He wouldn’t want you like this. Come on.” She moved me to the toilet. “Don’t do this, Tris.”

I started to throw up. Everything inside me burned, and when the whiskey and pills rose up from my stomach, my throat was set on fire.

I fell back against the wall once I finished. My eyes opened, and Jamie was gone—she had never been there to begin with. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, running my hands through my hair. What was I going to do? How was I going to survive?

“Tristan, please, let us know you’re okay!” Mom and Dad shouted from outside.

“I’m good,” I managed to lie to them. I heard Mom’s sigh of relief. “I’ll be out in a few.”

I could almost feel Dad’s hand on my shoulder, trying to bring me comfort. “All right, Son. We’ll be right here when you’re ready. We’re not going anywhere.”





Elizabeth had said she would meet me at Mr. Henson’s shop the next day, but at the last minute she had a change of plans. Five days passed without us actually speaking. Her window blinds had been drawn all week, and whenever I knocked on her door, it seemed as if she was on her way out, or simply pretending I didn’t exist.

I stopped in at Savory & Sweet to see if she was working and ran into Faye yelling at a customer about how the scrambled eggs were not super runny. “Faye, hey,” I said, interrupting her argument.

She twisted around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. The last time we’d seen each other was when I attacked Tanner at the bar, and I could tell she was still unsure how to address me. I’d been hearing everyone in town whispering about me, and I was sure lies had somehow crawled their way into Faye’s eardrums.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Is Elizabeth working today?”

“She’s out sick…she has been for a few days.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Why didn’t you just walk next door and check on her? Did you guys get into a fight or something?” She tensed up. “Is she okay?”

“We didn’t get into a fight. At least, I don’t think we did. She just…” I brushed my finger under my nose and cleared my throat. “She’s just not talking to me, and I’m not sure why. Did she happen to say anything to you? I know you’re her best friend and…”

“I think you should go, Tristan.” I could tell she didn’t believe me. I could tell she didn’t believe that I hadn’t hurt Elizabeth from the way every inch of her was alarmed.

I nodded, and as I opened the door to step outside, I paused. “Faye, I love her. I get why you’re wary of me, and I understand why you might even hate me. For a long time I was a monster. After Jamie and Charlie died, I turned into this beast that I didn’t even recognize. I’m sorry if I scared you the night of her birthday party, and I’m sorry I snapped, but…I would never hurt her. She’s…” I pressed my fist against my mouth and bit the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions at bay. “Last year I died right alongside my wife and kid. I checked out of reality and left this world. I was fine being gone, because being alive hurt; it hurt every fucking day. Then Lizzie came and even though I was the walking dead, she saw past it. Even though I was death, she took the time to resuscitate me. She breathed life back into my soul. She brought me back from the shadows. Now she’s not answering my calls or looking my way. I’m falling apart because I think she’s hurting and I can’t help her breathe like she helped me. So yeah, you should hate me. Please, hate the living shit out of me. I deserve it, and because of Elizabeth I can handle it. I’m alive again. But if you could just do me a favor and go check on her, if you could help her breathe for a little while, that would mean the world to me.”