Breath

She sat down at the gray and tan granite counter in their gorgeous new kitchen; she heard the faint sound of the television in the other room. A bottle sat in front of her and she lay her head down on the cool countertop, staring through the clear liquid she saw the faint memory of the night playing on the other side of the bottle. She saw herself leaving the bar walking and brushing up against the tall only partly familiar muscular man, before getting into his car she looked up and saw his smile, his fake smile.
“Julie?” So, he was awake. The clock on the stove read a bright green 3:35 AM and he looked the part. His hair was a mess and his face crumpled and eyes squinting as he felt his way into the kitchen. “Julie, did you really just get home it is 3:00 in the morning.”
No Response.
“Julie, seriously please tell me you’re not drunk again you promised that it was over.”
She heard him, but it was just a mumble, all she could see was what she had done earlier that night. “I, I did it again Charles” she swallowed hard, what felt like a rock in her throat.
“What.” It sounded more like a statement than a question. He knew what. He was angry and throwing forks and spoons from dirty dinner dishes into the ceramic sink that made a loud clanking noise. Then he reached for the bottle in front of her face, breaking her fixation and concentration.
“I’m so sorry Charles. I won’t do it anymore, I won’t drink and I won’t go back to him again.” Her voice broke into a faint whisper toward the end and she shook while reaching for him.
He slowed down and sat beside her and just stared into the deep green eyes as he did time and time again over the past four years. The only difference was the light he once saw in them was burning out and remained only a tiny flicker in between tears dropping from her face. “You always say you won’t go to him. Where do I draw the line?” his voice was soft, he touched her face and wiped away a tear and pulled her into him as she sobbed. The vision of the woman he loved being in someone else’s arms as she was in his never left his mind. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

The sun lit up the room every morning at 9:30 on the dot. Charles would feel it first and get up to shower before work, but he did one thing before that. Something that didn’t take that much time, but a bundle of effort, something that may seem simple to others but to him it determined the rest of his whole day. Before he even opened his eyes he prayed that she was still there, still lying there from the night before, sleeping so innocently on the other side of their bed. This morning he was lucky he decided, he opened his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, he reached over and lightly ran his hand down her arm as she lay on her side breathing so close to his face. He used to feel her breath on him to determine her presence, but after a while, her breath seemed to be there when she was not.