Chapter 4 - Hard to Breathe

 Oh, how much you wish to relive the past

I shuffled in bed, the sheets suddenly too stifling to breathe. My head spun erratically, the increasing heartbeat matching in tempo. A bead of sweat rolled off my forehead, inviting a thousand more. My hands vengefully fisted the beige colored sheets before letting it go in wrinkled clumps all too soon. I could hear the wistful sounds of wind breezing in through the windows, yet groaned with frustration why it couldn’t calm my frazzled nerves tonight.

And that’s when I felt bile clog my throat.

My face contorted at the distaste as I dashed out of bed, probably knocking off a jug of water by the nightstand, into my bathroom. I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand, trying to force the contents back down yet failing miserably. I slumped in front of the toilet, regurgitating a mixture of something that resembled my favorite pasta. Flushing it down, I tried to breathe, all in vain. For I shook from the building pressure, my eyes watering, vision blurring, face reddening in fever. My hands clutched the ceramic bowl with tremble as I identified the heaving sounds of breathlessness to be mine. I felt light-headed, found my eyes embracing darkness at short yet regular intervals. Simultaneously, I found irritation itching through my insides. I wanted to destroy everything around me, breaking every item with my fist. I wanted to cry my lungs out for this curse that befell over me. For leaving me all alone to deal with this problem. I wanted to sing soothing lullabies in apology to my baby, telling it that I would never hate it.

I didn’t have it in me to hate my child. Instead, I feared my child would abandon me with hate. 

But most of all, I felt this surging heat growing within and around me that I utterly despised. It was hard to breathe, harder to keep my eyes open. I wished to indulge myself in a bathtub of cold water, maybe that would help with the incessant sweat. I wanted to yank my hair out, mentally cursing it for being as long as a freaking curtain around my face.

And that’s when that curtain of a hair automatically lifted in a single bunch, circles of soothing air tickling the back of my neck, much to my relief. My shoulders sagged in response, a breath of gratitude heaving from my lips as I leaned back into the comfort of a familiar masculine chest. Not the rigid abs of the boyfriend who fled at the news of my pregnancy. But the firm yet warm embrace of the man I had sworn to love until three years ago.

“Damon…” I breathed as his hand rubbed wrinkles off my forehead, his breath whispering into my ear, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” I confessed in agitation, shuffling so that I could hide my face in his chest.

Damon wrapped an arm around me as he hushed, “I think you’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for.”

I let out a humorless chuckle, staring at my baby pink night suit, “I left you instead of fighting for you, for us, Damon.”

“It takes a lot of courage to walk out from someone’s life, Elena. I couldn’t. You did.” His hand reached mine as his fingers laced around my hand.

I turned to meet his gaze, my breath stumbling at the close proximity. His baby blue orbs sparkled under the fluorescent light of my bathroom, captivating me yet again. His cool breath fanned my face in soothing wisps, my own beating faster than usual. But then again, Damon Salvatore had that kind of effect on every woman. A bizarre possibility stirred to life that moment. Had he forgiven me? Was he truly happy to see me or did he consider this just an obligation? Did he still feel something for me?

My gaze dropped to his lips as I wondered. Were they still as soft as three years ago? Would meeting them with mine still make my heart soar and knees wobble? Would he still caress my face as if I were too precious to him? Would his touch still ignite a thousand goosebumps on my skin? Would his kisses still shoot heat down to my core, making me crave for his love?

I wouldn’t find any answers unless I tried. No matter how much my mind warned me against this reckless action, I had been rendered helpless in front of my heart. Within seconds I found myself lifting my face to his. I felt my eyelids grow heavy but heard my heart soar with surging adrenaline. I tightened my grasp on his hand, inching towards his lips. Just one kiss. That’s all my heart craved for.

“Elena…” He murmured huskily, whether in passion or caution, I couldn’t quite tell. “...I think you’re falling asleep.”

Maybe I was. Maybe this was nothing but a dream.

Because it felt too good to be true.

----------

I shuffled in bed, groaning at the glaring sunlight peeking through the curtains. Wait, why didn’t my alarm go off? I rubbed my eyes, pushing the duvet cover away before sitting up against the headboard. 

My vision adjusted to two hypnotizing pools of blue, my breath stuck in my throat as I gasped. He had probably just emerged from the shower, his hair in messy clumps. He wore a crisp white shirt tucked perfectly inside his black office pants, the first two buttons undone. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over mine in concern with a gaze so intense it set my heart on fire. I frowned in confusion, wondering why the sudden flurry of heart felt so familiar. 

Weirdly familiar.

It felt as if I had delved this deeply into his eyes just moments ago, feeling each soft breath sizzle on my skin, hearing every heartbeat I could have never forgotten. Had I been dreaming? I quickly checked my face for any signs of drool, mentally sighing in relief at finding none before reverting back to a downward curve of lips.

Why was Damon Salvatore eyeing me so intently?

Before I could ask, he began, “How are you feeling now?”

I scrutinized my eyes at the question, trying to recall what had happened that led him to asking this when a distasteful feeling resurfaced. Oh, right.

I nodded in reassurance, finding the memories of last night falling back into place, “Much better. Thank you, for taking care of me.”

I peeked at him beneath my eyelids, afraid he’d bring up the moment of confession for discussion. It was probably just an attempt to cajole me, nothing worth pondering upon. I found him shifting nervously in his spot as I mustered my courage, “I’m sorry for my...forwardness?” I couldn’t think of a more decent word that second, “...last night. It was reckless and um, it wasn’t me. I--”

“Hey.” He placed a hand over mine, putting a halt to my hysteria, “It’s okay. You don’t need to justify..” He relented with a sigh, “...apology accepted.”

I reciprocated his grin, letting the silence settle between us when it suddenly struck. “What time is it?” 

“10 in the morning.” He informed with caution as I shrieked, springing out of bed.

“What?! I had set my alarm for six.”

“I know. I silenced it, Elena.” He admitted sheepishly, his hand reaching the nape of his neck.

“You what? Damon, you have no right to--”

“I know I don’t. But you had thrown up vigorously at three in the morning, borderline trembling your way back to sleep. You need the rest, and that’s what I ensured.” He explained, beginning to walk towards me.

I shook my head incessantly, pacing to and fro as I felt anger bubble through me, “You can’t just interfere in my work life, Damon! You can’t disrupt my schedule--”

“I didn’t. I informed Caroline, in fact discussed this with her. She pushed back your appointments for the day and--.”

“Stop interrupting me, for God’s sake!” I flailed my arms around, heaving from the unfamiliar surge of irritation. 

He quietened instantly, raising his hands in surrender as his brows peaked, tickling the ends of his hair.

“You can’t make decisions for me, Damon. Not where my work is concerned, not without talking to me about it. Don’t lecture me on how much rest I should be getting because I feel fine.” I lied, watching his lips curl inwards into a grim line.

But my rage blinded my ability to feel guilt, “I was fine when I threw up for the first time yesterday. I could very well do without--”

“What?” His austere tone interrupted my need to vent as my eyes widened with startle at being caught.

“What did you just say, Elena?” He wore a predatory stare as he walked up to me.

“I...I…” I stuttered haphazardly, not meeting his eye.

“What happened yesterday, Elena?” He probed with a strain in his voice as I watched the veins in his neck about to pop.

There was no escape. And so I confessed, “I was fine with the usual cramps every now and then. I had been experiencing them for a while now, so it was expected. But shortly after the meeting I started feeling strange. I felt a little more dizzy than normal, felt the shivers get to me a lot sooner than normal. Before I could grab the bottle of water, I found myself vomiting everything I had eaten that day. I passed out for a few minutes out of exhaustion.”

I finally met his gaze, finding a wave of emotions cross his baby blue orbs one after the other. What remained was not pain, worry or guilt. But utter disappointment and burning anger.

It was a look I recognized too well. It was a look that had haunted me since that night.

It was a look of betrayal.

“How few?” His question made me gulp, “Around twenty minutes.”

His jaw tightened as he gritted through his teeth, “Where was Caroline?”

His admonishing tone made my heart trigger in despair, “Out for lunch. It was the first time in weeks and I didn’t want to...it’s not her fault, Damon.”

“You’re right. It isn’t. I can’t blame anyone else when it’s you who refuses to trust.” His eyes glimmered fiercely as I tilted my head to face his raging orbs.

“That’s not true.” I began to defend myself.

He scoffed in response, “Why else did you hide this from me?”

“Because I don’t want to trouble you with my worries, Damon!”

“This is what I signed up to, Elena! This is what I wanted!” 

My breath hitched at his unadministered confession. His eyes gaped similarly, probably cursing himself for giving out too much. Had he known all along? All this while I thought he had chosen my farce named application out of random, was there in fact a possibility that Damon came to see me?

“What?” I whispered under my breath, my tone wavering, my heart shaking.

His eyes softened for a second, as if requesting for my sympathy before hardening into hollow pools void of emotion. His voice tightened similarly, “I need to go. I would advise you to stay at home today but hey, suit yourself.” He mocked with sarcasm.

“Damon…” I tried to reason when he stopped me, “Save it, Elena.”

With that, he left. And that’s when I let myself drown into a pit of disappointment that made my heart pang.

I finally allowed myself to succumb to the guilt.

----------

It had been four hours. 

Four hours since he slammed the main door on my face. Four hours since I’ve been secretly tilting my head towards the same door, praying he’d grace me with his presence any minute now. And each passing minute, my heart fell a little deeper, disappointment encompassing me to the brim. I had let him down. Again.

Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my position on the couch, focusing on the manuscript in hand. Written by Jules Brown, it was another love story but without the usual spark. Something was off, something that refused to keep me hooked to the story. It was only when I spoke to her over the phone that I realized. She had never fallen in love. She didn’t know what it was like to be captivated by someone’s love. At first I bewildered her delirious idea of writing a love story without knowing what it was like to have one, but her determination and flair for writing gave me hope. She had the talent, just lacked in knowledge. So I decided I’d share whatever knowledge I had with her. Even if the love I experienced had been incomplete.

Cramps had been persistent, so had the dizziness. Amidst the sudden jolts of breathlessness, I had managed to eat an apple and some saltine crackers Damon had given me yesterday, but the guilt for betraying him again had eaten most of my appetite. I had so much to say but not too many words. I wanted to apologize for hiding something this significant from him. I hadn’t foreseen the turn of events, never thought it would upset him to this extent.

Somehow, upsetting him still made me upset.

I wanted to argue with him. Lash out at him for changing my work schedule without my consent. For turning my life upside down without my consent. For pulling strings of my heart I barely knew I had without my consent. Here I was, maintaining my boundaries, refusing to even silence his alarm considering I had no right. He shouldn’t have any right either. He shouldn’t have the right to care about me so much that it physically hurt. 

Oh how utterly wrong was it that he was right all the time.

But most importantly, I wanted to talk to him. I was desperate to hear his voice, feeling suffocated by the emptiness of these four walls around me. I wanted to share everything I had felt for the past three years, how hard I had tried to move on. And I did, at least I thought I did. Until I realized feelings with Matt couldn’t compare to the feelings Damon stirred within me with just one look. It had to be an attraction, it couldn’t possibly be love anymore. Not when I had spent three years getting over him.

Just when I thought I couldn’t work any longer without helplessly having my attention diverted to a certain blue-eyed man, I heard the door swing open, welcoming a disheveled looking Damon Salvatore. His shirt loosened from one end, his jacket hanging over his shoulder as he ruffled through his hair.

“Bad day?”

“Worse than ever.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“There wasn’t much you could do anyways.” He brushed off the topic with a fling of his jacket.

“Damon…” I began when he corrected himself, “Of course. Polite talk. So how was your day, ‘Lena?”

I grimaced at the sarcasm in his tone, at how long it had been since he said my name lovingly.

I decided to ignore his jab, just like always. “Not too bad. I got my first manuscript to edit as an assistant Content Editor.”

His eyes sparkled in glee for a moment, and for a second I let my heart ignite with hope. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a love story about--”

“Ugh. Love stories.” He snorted in disgust before walking down the corridor to our bedroom.

I followed suit, calling out to him, “Why do you say it like that?” My face contorted at the tremble in my tone. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have shared this with him, maybe I should have greeted him with a standard ‘hello’ like we had accustomed ourselves to.

“Because love stories are overrated. Far from reality.” He slid out of his shirt, dumping it in the laundry bag before walking towards the bathroom.

“That’s not true.” I tersely denied, ignoring the irony of my statement.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, a troubled expression on his face, “Thought you’d deny it.” He then muttered under his breath, “Always running away from the truth.”

“I heard that.” I spat back, internally offended at my rudeness.

“I never said I didn’t want you to.” He bit back frostily as I looked away.

This was a mistake. Talking to him seemed like a grave mistake.

“Why do you think love stories are overrated?” I couldn’t help myself from asking.

“Because they’re fictional. They’re stereotypical. All about a boy and girl who fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“You don’t think love is enough.” I sighed in resolution.

“You think it is?! Look at what it did to us!” He vented as I shook my head in denial or disappointment, I couldn’t decide. Maybe it was both.

“Why do you have to be this way, Damon?” I shuddered at how disastrously we were falling apart.

“Because I’m tired! I’m tired of being in a relationship that seems more of a burden!” He hollered, drawing my breath to a stop. This couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be what he felt about us. Surely, this was a spur-of-the-moment reckless comment.

“Stop saying things that you don’t mean, Damon.”

“Maybe anything I say to you doesn’t mean much anymore, Elena!” Another reckless accusation.

But that didn’t stop me from lashing back, “Maybe it would if you tried working on us rather than complaining. Can’t you ever stop with this snarky attitude?”

“No I can’t. You know why? Because that’s what you’ve turned me into. That’s what this stupid love has done to me.”

“Stop blaming me for everything, Damon!”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before ruining everything that night!”

Another sharp breath. Another pause. Another moment where I had to shut my eyes for the tears to stop pooling.

“You said we wouldn’t talk about it. You said you had forgiven me. You said time would fix this. Guess that wasn’t true, was it?” My voice cracked as I remembered our last proper conversation a few days ago.

His eyes glimmered as his voice dripped with sarcasm, “Oh I’m sorry I couldn’t forgive you for the betrayal you gave me.”

I gritted my teeth at how effortlessly he had pushed my feelings away, “I said I was sorry! How many times do you want me to apologize?”

He seethed with equal fervor, “One word can’t fix what you did to me, Elena.”

“You know what hurts, Damon?” I walked up to him, my eyes burning with similar rage, “That you don’t even want to try.”

His jaw tightened in admission and I felt my heart break into pieces, “I can’t believe this. I can’t deal with this attitude, Damon.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”

“Because I love you! I’m incapable of letting you go knowing there might be a tiny chance of sharing a future together. I’m too weak to live without you, Damon.”

His eyes softened as tears slipped past mine before he crushed his lips onto mine. He cupped my face fiercely, my arms involuntarily wrapping around his neck, my fingers tangling in his soft hair. He growled under his breath, biting my lower lip. And so I let him take whatever I had in me. I let him mark my soul once again. I didn’t resist when his fingers dove through my hair, freeing my locks from the hairpin that held them in place, letting them fall down till the small of my back, just how he liked it. I didn’t persist when his tongue demanded access with a swipe across my lips, opening my mouth so that our tongues could reunite in pleasure. I didn’t stop the moan from escaping my lips when he nibbled on the sensitive spot just behind my ear, my knees almost wobbling, my eyes shut in ecstasy.

He nipped at my jaw before taking another kiss at my lips, giving me another moment of our rekindled love. Pleasuring me with the lust I thought no longer existed between us. And then he drew back, his fingers playing across my cheeks, his orbs sparkling in blue before saying.

“You care too much.” 

I hadn’t expected to hear these words repeat themselves, drawing a breath the minute I heard them. Did he remember too? Did he think about us and what we could have been too? It was hard to tell, judging the unfathomable look on his face.

After swallowing a lump down my throat, I shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, “I can’t help it sometimes.”

He walked in, throwing his jacket on the sofa just like always and my lips curved into a reminiscing smile. I lowered my gaze, mentally debating on how I should start my apology when he voiced my thoughts, “I’m sorry.”

My brows furrowed in confusion, my lips ajar in shock, “What?”

His lips shook a little before letting out, “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I shouldn’t have interfered in your work...it was wrong of me, I know. I was just--”

“Worried.” I completed, earning him a nod.

I let my feet touch the ground, patting the spot beside me with a pat. He nodded again, sitting beside me with his elbows on his knees, his back slightly hunched.

“I know. I’m sorry too. I should have told you but I didn’t want you to worry.”

He turned his head to my side as he spoke softly, “It’s not a burden on me, Elena. I want this.”

Words of assurance. How desperate had I been that day to hear them when he accused me of destroying us. He wasn’t wrong, I knew. But it just hurt to have him say those words to my face.

I felt my vision blur, no matter how hard I tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Hey, Elena…” He ushered me into his embrace as I hid my face in the crook of his neck.

“Stupid hormones. Always making me cry.” I tried to justify when I heard his chest shake with laughter.

“I’m not complaining.” He chuckled, soothing my arm.

I pulled out, watching my fingers fidget with each other as I formed, “I don’t think I can be a good mother. I don’t think I’m capable enough of giving my baby the love and affection it needs.”

“That’s not true.”

“How do you know? I couldn’t love you enough to make you want me.” I blurted the words before thinking them through.

He shifted a little in his seat, gulping awkwardly a few times before dodging it, “You’ll know you will be the best mother you can be the moment you’ll hold your baby in your arms.”

My lips automatically curved into a smile as I wondered, “Really?”

“It’s what Katherine felt.” My smile fell instantly and I felt my heart crumble to pieces. I looked away, trying to control the flood of tears as he unknowingly reminded me of the reality. Of Katherine, his sweet and loving wife.

That I would always be the other woman. That he had given his heart to someone else.

I needed to get away from him, needed a minute to breathe. So that’s what I did as I stood up, “I was thinking of ordering pizza for lunch. You in?”

“Pizza and that too with you? I’d be a fool to say no to that.” He waggled his brows flirtatiously as I forced myself to roll my eyes.

This man could step over my heart and make it soar all at once.

----------

Six slices of pizza and four pieces of garlic bread later, I heard him sigh in contentment, “It had been way too long.”

“How come?”

“Katherine’s a stickler for healthy food. I never realized I had been craving for some junk until now.” He explained.

I chuckled at his look of misery, “You’ve got to give up on something to maintain that charm.”

His lips turned into his signature smirk, “That’s part of my innate personality.”

“Of course.” I ridiculed his cockiness before leaning back against the sofa.

“I didn’t go to work today, by the way.” I confessed as I watched him grin.

“I ate the saltine crackers you gave me too.” I continued, his lingering smile growing each second.

“And I took some rest.” I added as he looked towards me, “Really? What was that manuscript doing in your hand then?”

I scrutinized my eyes at him before frowning, “I said ‘some’. I can’t sleep the entire day unless I’m in a coma.”

His face grew serious for a second before reverting back to his cheery self, “What was the manuscript about?”

I hesitated a little before revealing, “Another love story.”

He stiffened for a moment, and just for a moment I let myself believe that he was remembering the same incident. That he hadn’t forgotten me, that he still allowed his heart to think about us.

Not delving into the topic for too long, he deviated, “I guess I’d refrain from commenting.”

I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “I thought Katherine had changed your perception on love.”

“Some wounds are too deep to heal.”

Was that a scornful remark or a facade to hide his pain? It had to be a jab aimed at me for he had gotten over me no more than five months after our break-up. He had fallen in love with another woman, had a child of his own. Surely he was in love rather than pining over memories made with me.

He changed the topic of discussion before I could ponder upon his thoughts, “By the way, any signs of queasiness today?”

“Just the usual. No vomiting.” The minute I said that I felt my stomach growl in defiance. 

My head spun erratically, my fingers trembling, my body shivering. I felt bile build up in my throat, ready to spurt out any second. My heartbeat increased with each passing second, sweat forming on my forehead as my lips quivered in fear. I rushed to the nearest bathroom, spilling out whatever bits of pizza I had enjoyed only moments before. I grunted through coughs, clutching my belly as a cramp began to pierce through. Somewhere in the background I could hear Damon call out my name incessantly, in concern, in helplessness, in comfort. He reached out for a glass of water but before I could take it, my hand fell limp. I felt myself lose balance and slump on the ground but not feeling any physical pain. Instead, I felt a pair of arms support me, holding me up, carrying me to my bed. I murmured something I barely understood, something I had been meaning to convey but unable to because of the continuous gasps. I slouched against his chest, his beating heart like a favorite lullaby as I drifted to sleep.

----------

I knew the moment I opened my eyes that something wasn’t right. I could tell from the fear in his eyes as he clung onto my hand. I could sense it in the intense beating of my heart.

“Damon…” I whispered, trying to sit upright in my bed.

He stopped me, words debating in his head as I encouraged, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Vomiting is common, Elena. But fainting isn’t. This is the third time in two days. It shouldn’t be happening.”

“How do you know--”

“I checked.” Of course he did. Of course he knew, he was a father himself.

Before I could ask anything else, my babymate decided, his eyes wavering with fear but his tone filled with conviction.

 “We’re going to a doctor.”