If You'd Let Me

Chapter 13

This couldn't happen again. This was never meant to happen, but it had. Because Zed had broken the rule. I should tell on him, but I wouldn't because he was still Eliza's brother. He might be something along the lines what most would consider a close friend, but our relationship was complicated. Everything was complicated. I was complicated as was my life. But that's life, isn't it? Life was complicated. Sometimes it threatened to drown us and we'd seek refuge in alcohol, sex, drugs or work. We would either talk about it or we would drown our sorrows with us, pretending we weren't drowning.

It was either drown or survive. These days drowning seemed likelier than surviving. But maybe I would surprise myself and survive. I didn't know yet what the future held.

The next few weeks I emerged myself in work. I avoided Zed, but still visited Eliza a lot. Everyone could see me doing it. I was barely home. If I wasn't out doing a job, I was working out at HQ and if I wasn't sparring at HQ, I was visiting Eliza.

If I was being honest, I still watched Zed from afar. I stopped every night across the Rosenheim Inc. building. He was always still at work. Eliza no doubt berated him for it. I chuckled softly at the thought. Zed, a former high-level Haima, berated by his sister for working too hard. It was a funny thing to imagine.

He buried himself in work. Just like I did. We were more alike than I wanted to admit, but we were. Both — current or former — Haima, both caring so much. Maybe that was the problem.

We each cared in our own way. Both different ends of the same spectrum. Where he cared about people, I did too, but silently on the inside. I might keep it inside, but that didn't mean I didn't care deeply. Maybe it was the trust issues, maybe it was something else. The difference was that he pulled people in and I pushed them out.

My team, Eliza, and Zed. I let them in. Not all to the same degree, but I let them in. Some knew only one of my identities and few knew more than that — more identities or of their existence. But no one knew the entirety of me. I was many identities trapped in one body.

I was Bryce Devereaux, the boy who grew up in the now called Red City. I was Mikhael, the man who lived in a abandoned castle. I am Rowan, the killer for justice. I am Zivon Calder, the freelancer. I was an enigma, a conundrum. Nobody really knew me. It made for a lonely existence, but it was a path I'd chose a long time ago. I couldn't undo that decision.

It had been too long since I had made that decision. My fate was drowning in solitary. It was a fate I had chosen for myself; a burden I had brought upon myself, but it was a heavy burden. Sometimes I wondered if I could survive. If I would survive. I wondered how Atlas — the man who carried the world on his shoulders — did it. How he survived the burden. How he never faltered and how he got up if he ever did. I, for one, didn't know if I would get up the next time I stumbled. Because of stumbling I was sure. It was the one thing in my life that was constant. I would struggle. I would drown. I always did. It wouldn't just stop. It never ended. It only paused, until something triggered the play button again.

How did I stop this? How did I pause? How the fuck did I pause! I don't know how to pause. It wouldn't fucking pause! I was drowning. The water bursting into my lungs. I couldn't keep the water out. How the fuck did I keep the water out. The water just kept coming, kept invading my lungs. I wanted it to stop. It had to quit invading my lungs. The water might still be in my lungs, but it had to at least stop adding more. Why wouldn't it stop adding more? Why didn't it stop. I was choking and could barely breathe. It was so suffocating.

"Zedekiah Rosenheim speaking."

Suddenly I breached the water.

"Zee, are you there?"

I didn't answer my phone. I just clenched it in my hand, holding it against my ear, hearing him breathe.

"Zee?"

I kept quiet. I couldn't speak, because I couldn't do anything else. I just listened to him breathe. For a while there was just breathing. Only breathing. Breathing and breathing and brea—

"Zee, have you seen how beautiful the city is tonight?" He suddenly said.

I croaked out a barely understandable whispered, "No."

"I'm looking at it from my office now. Go watch the city, Zee," he mumbled softly. "It's beautiful."

I kept silent. Silence was a comfortable companion. I took a few steps to my window and looked through the city. It really was beautiful. Breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing. He was breathing. I was breathing. Breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing. He would still be breathing tomorrow. I would still be breathing tomorrow. Breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing. He would make it to tomorrow, so I would too. I would make it to tomorrow. I would make it. Breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing. I would make it. We both would. I would make it. I would make it. I would make it.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I wanted to answer, but I didn't know how. I couldn't. I just sighed contently. Maybe, just maybe that was enough. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe, just maybe there was hope. Just a sliver of it, but it was something.

That night I fell asleep hearing him breathe. The next morning my phone was dead. Zed must have stayed on the line until my phone died. Just so I could hear him breathe. I hadn't said a single word, but still he had stayed on the line.

I was grateful.

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