Fisher's Light(110)

The random, gurgling whoosh of my breathing apparatus forcing air into my lungs every few seconds is the only sound filling my ears at the bottom of the ocean. It’s calm and peaceful and, other than Lucy, it has always been the one thing that helps clear my head when I’m distracted or feeling uneasy. I love being down here, sharing space with nothing but fish and coral. I lost track of time as soon as I submerged myself, but going by the faint beep of the alarm on my tank signaling I only have about thirty minutes left of air, I’ve been down here for quite a while. Even though I’ve already gone through almost four tanks, I’m still not ready to surface. I don’t want to come up and deal with the reality that I’m still waiting for the woman I love to decide if I’m worth the risk. I want to be worth it to her, dammit.

Everything was going so perfectly. We got past so many hurdles that I never imagined anything else could possibly f*ck it up. I’d been sneaking away from her every chance I got to work on our cottage, fixing the bedroom door I kicked open the day I lost my shit and Bobby helped me paint and move the furniture he’d put into storage for me after I went to rehab back into the house. I wanted to surprise Lucy, to drive her out to our home, get down on my knees and beg her to be my wife again. I wanted to give her the wedding rings I still carry everywhere and ask her to spend her life with me and to love me forever. I’d finally gotten everything finished the day she went to the beach with Ellie and f*cking Melanie decided to spew her bullshit.

I should’ve spent more time talking to Lucy about what didn’t happen that night at Barney’s. I should’ve done everything in my power to reassure her that she has been the only woman for me since the first time I kissed her. No other woman could ever compare, and I wish she could see herself the way I do. I wish she could see how beautiful and perfect she is to me. When Ellie repeated the shit Melanie said to Lucy, it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever wanted to strangle a woman. Melanie, with her fake tits and fake hair and her feelings of entitlement about everything around her make her the ugliest person in the world to me.

The rage I turned on her erased that haughty look from her face for the first time in my memory. Melanie cried like a baby, but I didn’t feel a bit sorry for her. She’s gone through so many husbands that I don’t think she has any idea what true love really is. I f*cked her once in high school and the bitch is so convinced of her own appeal that she truly believed I was pining away for her ass almost fifteen years later. One drunken mistake last year that lasted less than five minutes was enough to convince her that I was ready for seconds. I told her in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t f*ck her again if she were the last woman on earth. I reminded her that it’s ALWAYS been Lucy and it always will be, and I told her if she didn’t stay away from both of us, I would make her life more f*cking miserable than it already is. She tried to apologize, but I told her to f*ck off. She’d already done enough damage, and a few words of contrition weren’t going to fix anything.

Lucy made offhand comments about not being pretty enough or good enough for me when we were younger, but I never imagined she would still carry some of those insecurities to this day. I didn’t realize what happened at Barney’s would still be festering inside of her, just waiting for a chance to boil over and ruin everything we’d worked so hard to build. Why didn’t I spend more time explaining to her what was going through my head that night? We talked about it once and I foolishly thought that was enough. I should have known her better. I DO know her better, dammit, and I should have realized she’d need more from me. A woman who believes her man has cheated on her doesn’t get over something like that easily, no matter how many words of reassurance you throw at her. I should have held her face in my hands and looked into her eyes and told her NO ONE could ever make me forget the vows and promises I made to her. Even when I was half out of my mind with flashbacks and whiskey, the very thought of being inside another woman was enough to make me physically ill.

I also can’t let go of the betrayal I felt over Lucy going behind my back and talking to that f*ck face ex of hers to make a deal to save the inn. Naturally, my father was the one to share that little tidbit with me when he found out through whatever investment grapevine he keeps his ear glued to. I don’t understand why she refuses to trust me or accept my assistance, but more than willing to put her faith in him and allow him to help her. All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect her and make sure she’s happy, why can’t she see that?

It’s being here, under the water, where everything is calm and beautiful, that helps me realize it’s all trivial bullshit in the grand scheme of things. I almost lost her forever. Do I really want to engage in a pissing contest with her ex? Does it even matter where the money comes from, as long as she gets what she wants? And what right do I have to bitch about her lack of trust, considering I served her with divorce papers and left her twisting in the wind for an entire year after I broke her f*cking heart?