Jessica Clare - Last Breath

Nevertheless, they’re concerned for my health now. They want me to come home for good. I can’t, though. I’m not their little girl anymore. We stay with them for a few days, but it makes me restless. It’s clear that they don’t understand, nor do they understand why Daniel needs to clear a room before I go in because it makes me feel safer.

Daisy’s my new best friend and always at my side. When Daniel and Nick are busy working on the apartment building, Daisy goes shopping with me or runs errands with me or whatever needs to be done. I’m not alone for a second, and it makes me feel safer. I don’t know if Daniel’s asked her to be my shadow or if she senses that I’m scared of being abandoned, but I appreciate it either way. Her attentiveness has gone a long way to resolving the festering resentment I’ve been harboring against her.

And one day, I get a wild hair up my ass to go and visit Mike and Becca. I don’t bring Daniel; I’m half-afraid that he would shoot Mike because he can’t stand him for being, well, Mike. For being selfish and self-absorbed and hooking up with my best friend. I don’t think it’s Mike’s fault as much as it is mine, though. I went along with everything before. That’s not me anymore.

I do take Daisy with me, though, because I don’t like to go anywhere alone. We pull up to Mike’s apartment building, and it’s one I’m intimately familiar with. How many times did I drive over after a football game for a quick fuck and cuddle because Mike wanted to get laid? How was I ever okay with that?

“You sure you want to do this?” Daisy asks me for the hundredth time as we walk into the building and head for the elevator.

“I’m sure,” I tell her. “Mike deserves closure too, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Daisy says, and she looks troubled. She’s a good friend. I squeeze her hand to let her know it’s okay, and we head up to the fifth floor, where Mike has lived for the past few years.

And we knock on his door, even though I have a key back in the apartment. It’s taped to the bottom of my cookie jar. It was only for emergencies, after all. In case Mike needed something taken care of when he was out of town with buddies. It wasn’t so I could let myself in whenever.

Man, I really was a doormat before. I smirk to myself at the thought. Wonder what Mike’s going to think of me now.

He answers the door. I’m a little disappointed it’s not Becca, because wouldn’t that be a great conversation starter. But Mike looks utterly stunned to see me. “Oh my God. Regan.”

And he bursts into tears and reaches out to hug me close.

I have to admit, this is not the way I pictured our reunion. I pat his back awkwardly and give Daisy a helpless glance as Mike hugs me and blubbers on my shoulder. He’s so thankful to see me alive again, he says between gulping sobs. He thought I was dead.

And then he pulls back and tries to kiss me, and I recoil.

“Don’t,” I say. I don’t want to be kissed by him, ever again.

He looks shocked that I pull away from him. “What’s wrong? Baby, are you okay?”

“What’s wrong? Mike, I know you’re with Becca.” I can see her shit on his kitchen counter from where I’m standing.

He shakes his head, and his face is a little paler. I notice that he starts to close the door to his apartment behind him, blocking our view, and I fight the urge to giggle when sweet little Daisy rolls her eyes at this move. “No, baby. That was, you know, a thing. We were comforting each other.”

“Uh-huh,” I say flatly. “How fast did you two start comforting each other? I’m curious. Was it a day or two after I was kidnapped or did you wait a whole week?”

Judging from the ugly flush that crosses his cheeks, I’m not hitting far off the mark. He’s embarrassed. “It’s not like that, Regan. I was . . . so upset when you disappeared.” He squeezes my shoulder and gets choked up again. “I kept drinking, and Becca came over to talk some sense into me. And she . . . kinda never left.”

“You make it sound like Becca hopped onto your dick.”

He shakes his head again and tries to rub my arm, but I bat his hand away. “Baby, you know I love you and only you.” He smiles at me through his tears. “Are you . . . are you okay?”

“Better than you,” I say, and I’m surprised to find that it’s the truth. He’s got snot running down his face, and he’s a mess. His shirt’s filthy, stained with breakfast. It looks like he hasn’t shaved in a week or two, and his hair is greasy. He does look like he’s gone through hell.

Which is ironic since I’m the one that went through hell, not him. But when his eyes tear up again, I find myself patting him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you meant badly by it, Mike,” I say. “I’m sure you were hurting and lonely. And it’s always been all about you.”

“What?” he says, as if he didn’t hear me right.

“Did you even look for me, Mike? Or did you hear I was missing, throw your hands up, and start fucking my old BFF?”

His eyes dart back and forth from my impassive face to Daisy’s, looking for sympathy. He won’t find any here. “Why are you blaming me?” he says in a sad voice. “I did everything I could. The police said they would handle it.”

“I’m sure they did,” I say. And maybe in his mind, Mike thinks that he did do everything. Maybe he can go to sleep at night knowing he placed a few phone calls and was appropriately sad that his girlfriend disappeared. Maybe that’s all that’s required for Mike.

But I think of Daniel. I think of him searching through the hellish streets and digging through brothels for a year and a half, looking for Naomi. I think of all we went through together. And I know if I went missing, he’d tear the world apart to try and find me.

He’d never stop.

And . . . I smile. I’m with the right man. I might have had to go through hell to get to his side, but I’m where I need to be now.

Mike returns my smile tentatively, but he’s clearly confused. “You want to come in, honey?”

“No,” I tell him. “And I’m not your honey anymore. Becca is now.” I clasp his hand. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

“But . . . no,” Mike begins. “Regan, I want you—”

I shake my head. “I’m here to give you closure, Mike.” I give his hand a little squeeze. “You and I are done. I’ve moved on, and you did, too.”

He starts to cry again, and Daisy’s expressive face has gone from scowling to horrified all over again, which I’ll laugh about later when I tell Daniel all about this. “But, Regan, I love you, not Becca.”

“Then I suggest you give her some closure, too,” I say lightly and give him an impulsive hug. I pull away before he can entangle me in his arms again. “Goodbye, Mike.”

I hear his blubbering goodbye as Daisy and I walk down the hall. He doesn’t come after me. Mike’s not the type. And before, I wasn’t the type of girl that thought she needed that kind of guy.

Guess we’ve both changed.

Daniel

REGAN TELLS ME THAT SHE has visited Mike and that he’s happy she’s moved on. I give two shits about Mike’s mental state and still think that I’d be doing the world a favor by putting him down like the diseased worthless dog he is, but I figure Regan would not be okay with that. All that really matters is that she’s happy.

We had a good time visiting her parents again. They still treat me like I’m a god—as if falling in love while she has amnesia is some great accomplishment. The one good thing about visiting her parents is that they give us a ton of food that Regan and I eat for a couple days after. Maybe I should look into a cooking class. Regan’s not the best cook, and neither am I. One of us is going to have to learn to operate the stove for something other than heating up soup.