Unexpected Love

“Mark, what the fuck!” It wasn’t a question so much as it was a demand for an explanation. Bree’s boyfriend knew she would be coming home with groceries, yet he hadn’t come out to help her when she’d pulled into the driveway and blown the horn. Now she stumbled into the condo, barely able to hang on to the handful of bags as she struggled to remove her key from the lock. When she finally managed, she kicked the door shut behind her, and all but threw the groceries onto the counter. What is his problem? Again, it wasn’t a question, but a statement. Bree and Mark’s relationship had been on shaky ground for a while now, and recently it seemed to be getting worse. “Mark!” she called again, seeking him out. He wasn’t in the living room, which was where Bree had expected to find him. She headed down the hallway, peeking into the bathroom as she passed, but it was unoccupied. Each second that passed without Mark greeting her and acknowledging her return made her more and more angry, and when Bree paused outside of their bedroom, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for a fight. Then she dramatically through open the bedroom door but found that Mark was not there either. His keys and wallet sat on the dresser, so he had to be there, but where? The only place she hadn’t checked was the spare bedroom, but they rarely went back there, only using the room for storage. Though Bree anticipated the room being empty, she decided to check anyhow, and when she opened the door and ducked her head in, she wasn’t prepared for what she found. There was Mark, slumped over a box of old clothes, a needle sticking out of his arm. She ran to him, sat him upright, and shook him frantically. When that didn’t work, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Still, there was nothing. Realizing she had to call 911, she hurried to retrieve her phone from her purse, which was still in the kitchen. Her hands shook as she tried to punch in the numbers, so much that she made a mistake dialing, and had to hang up and try again. When Bree finally succeeded in getting help on the line, she described for the dispatcher the scene she’d come home to. Lindsey, that was the dispatcher’s name, asked what felt to Bree like an un-ending list of questions. Bree answered them as best she could, but both her thoughts and her eyes were locked on Mark. Was he turning blue? Lindsey talked her through CPR, which Bree performed with such intensity that she could swear she heard one of Mark’s ribs crack, and in the end, she was left exhausted and out of breath. The paramedics administered Narcan, which reversed the effects of the heroin Mark had done and restored his ability to breathe normally, but he still wasn’t coherent as they transferred him onto the stretcher and, because he was flailing his arms wildly, they had to strap him down. Though she couldn’t hear them, the paramedic wearing glasses said something that caused the tall one to snicker, and the vibe Bree picked up on was somewhere between pity and disgust. She could follow in her car, they told her, but as Mark was loaded into the ambulance, Bree froze, and time and reason seemed to fall away. While she watched, mesmerized, as the emergency lights lit up the courtyard, it occurred to Bree all of the sudden that she still needed to put the groceries away. Once Bree had spoken to the nurse at the hospital and been reassured that Mark was going to be fine, familiar thoughts began to return. They came slowly at first, then steadily increased until they became like a flash grenade that she couldn’t ignore. It was unclear as to when Bree and Mark’s relationship had started to change. Bree hadn’t just woken up one day to find that things were different, and if asked to pinpoint one specific moment that had altered the trajectory of her relationship, she couldn’t. Somewhere along the way, the mystery and excitement of a new relationship had worn off, and comfort and complacency began setting in. Combined with his drug use and her drinking, and their conflicting values, it was no wonder they had been having problems. Something once as beautiful as a snowflake had turned into a blizzard, making it difficult for Bree to see what was right in front of her. It wasn’t until hours later that Bree phoned the hospital for an update and learned that Mark had been discharged. The sheriff’s deputy had been waiting, the desk nurse told her, and Mark was in their custody. Despite the uncertainty of her relationship, this information made Bree anxious. Mark had a record of misdemeanors and low-class felonies, and a bad attitude about the cops. Whatever was going on, Mark would not be happy, and Bree felt herself starting to panic. Everyone always told her she worried too much about Mark, when Mark should be taking care of himself. She did the only thing she could think of to do, and called his twin brother. She was getting ready to leave a message when, after four rings, he picked up. “Hey, Bree. What’s up?” He sounded annoyed and out of breath. “Chase, we have a problem,” she told him, recounting everything that had happened. When she finished, there was only silence, and Bree thought they had been disconnected. She was about to hang up when he spoke. “That’s not a we problem, Bree. That’s a Mark problem.” He sounded matter-of-fact, and his response caught Bree off guard, though maybe it shouldn’t have given their complicated history. They had met years ago when she had started dating Mark, and the first impression had given her had been that of a first-class douchebag. Bree’s mother had raised her to always smile and be kind to others no matter what, and most of the time, Bree didn’t have to pretend. Being polite to Chase’s face, though, while silently hiding her dislike for him just felt two-faced. She didn’t like hypocrisy, and she didn’t do “fake” very well. But for Mark she had tried and, without realizing it, her feelings toward Chase had softened. At some point, amidst a whirlwind of alcohol and pain pills partaken by all, Chase had somehow become their third. When Bree drunkenly invited Mark to move in with her after only a week, he had done so immediately, and Chase just seemed to follow. Surprising herself, Bree had realized that she really hadn’t minded his near constant presence. The three of them together had just seemed natural. They were always together, even joking that they always split everything “threesies.” Their friendship was different than any she had ever had before, and she couldn’t figure out how or why. With the Burgan brothers, there had just been an ease about everything. When Chase had started dating a girl from work, though, the group dynamic began to change. Chase had come around less and less. Now that he had a new girlfriend, or because he was no longer hanging out with Mark and Bree, Chase had quit drinking altogether. Propelled toward a healthier lifestyle, he swapped out partying for hours at the gym. Mark and Bree, however, had hit the party scene even harder, developing an addiction to Oxycontin. While Bree was eventually able to fight her way out of it and stick only to alcohol from then on, Mark had graduated to using heroin, and their relationship had continued to spiral out of control. Meanwhile, Chase had carried on creating a better life for himself. There was no bad blood between them. Bree and Chase had just somehow gotten to be worlds apart. Bree, brought back to the present, suddenly broke down. Through sniffles and sobs, she wailed at Chase about the stress of her relationship with Mark, and how it had her at her wits end, something Chase couldn’t possibly understand because he was never around anymore. The last part struck a nerve. “Calm down, Bree. Do you want me to come stay with you tonight, so you’re not alone? She took him up on his offer. “There’s nothing you can do until he calls,” Chase told Bree, straightening the cushions on the couch where he’d slept the night before. Bree had spent most of the night pacing, becoming an even bigger bundle of nerves come morning. “I’m going to the gym for a while. Wanna come blow off some steam?” She didn’t, and twenty minutes later, just as he was walking out the door, the phone rang. “Hello,” said an automated voice. “This is a collect call from – Mark – an inmate at…” The voice pre-recorded to say Mark’s name was his own. Once she accepted the charges, there was a brief pause followed by a clicking sounded, and then Mark was on the line. He spoke before she could say hello, or ask how he was. “Dude, this is such bullshit! The stupid cops got me from the hospital because there was a warrant I didn’t know about, and they were being dicks and threatened to give me a possession charge, too, so I told them they were pigs. Pigs, dude! Then I saw the judge this morning, and he gave me six months. Six months!” Mark always babbled when he got upset, and had a tendency to repeat himself. Bree could hardly understand him, and the static of a bad connection made it even more difficult. He was being rushed off the phone, but he told her to get a hold of Chase and let him know that Mark was in jail, and to put money on his books. Bree couldn’t bring herself to tell him that Chase was standing right there. When she got off the phone, she relayed to Chase what Mark had said. “He didn’t even apologize, or ask how I’m doing,” she complained. “I know I don’t want to be with him anymore, but how can I even care about someone so selfish?” Chase looked up from the coffee mug he’d been washing. “What’s going on with you guys anyway?” She’d been unhappy for a while, Bree told him, and recently it had gotten worse. When she’d started a new job a few months ago, she’d seen it as a fresh start, and was hoping Mark would see it that way as well. When she’d tried to talk to him about their life together, though, Mark either ignored her or changed the subject. He seemed neither to share nor care about her concerns. “You can feel the negativity in the air,” Bree explained to Chase. “We’re always walking on eggshells when we’re together, and I don’t want to do it anymore.” “And right now, you don’t have to,” he said, trying to be helpful. “You have six months to figure it out.” “And do what, Chase? Spend the next six months in limbo, waiting, and thinking about it, and having no control?” He didn’t have an answer for her, instead asking again if she wanted to go to the gym. When she declined, he said he’d skip his workout then, and convinced her to go with him to the grocery store. “You have no food here,” he pointed out. “Come one, I’ll make you homemade chili and grilled cheese, just like I used to.” He liked to cook, she remembered, and had always told her he could run any restaurant’s kitchen by himself. With nothing else to do and in need of a distraction, Bree agreed. Once they returned to the condo, Chase spread out all of the vegetables and spices on the counter, and prepared for an afternoon in the kitchen. Bree was going to take a shower and kill some time until dinner was ready, but when Chase caught her making a drink to take with her into the bathroom, he called her out. “You’re not really making a drink for the shower, are you?” She gave him a guilty smile and told him she did it all the time. “You know, if you don’t keep it in the house, you might not drink so much. Why don’t you try to quit for a while, challenge yourself?” She told him she’d think about it. That night, as Bree and Chase were finishing dinner, his phone rang. It was his ex-girlfriend, asking him to come over. She thought she’d heard someone trying to get in, and wanted him to come and check. “You’re just rescuing all of the girls today,” Bree teased, not wanting him to go. “It’s not like that. I broke it off weeks ago, and she’s having a little trouble letting go. She keeps coming up with bogus reasons to see me. It’s annoying.” “So say no,” Bree told him. “Don’t go.” Chase shook his head. “If I don’t go, she’ll be blowing up my phone all night. Leave the side door unlocked if you go to sleep. I’ll come back.” Once he left, Bree experienced an unsettling feeling, like an unanswered question left hanging in the air. Throughout the day, it had almost seemed like the closeness and bond they used to have was returning. Before his phone rang, she had thought they were sharing a moment, but wasn’t sure if he’d felt it, too. One thing was certain, though. When he left, she could feel his absence. Disappointed and restless, she wasn’t sure what to do now. She considered making a drink, but Chase’s earlier words came into her mind, and she decided against it. Instead, she finished cleaning up, turned off the lights, and went to bed. Sometime later, there was a gentle knock on her bedroom door. Chase stuck his head in and, in a whisper, asked if she was awake. She hadn’t been asleep, so she sat up in bed and beckoned him in. He sat down opposite her, and had a strange look on his face. “Bree, have you ever thought about what it would be like if we were together?” The question blindsided her, and before she could even answer him, he kissed her. The kiss was electrifying, making her body buzz and her heart race. A surreal feeling took over, making her lightheaded. She brought her fingertips to her mouth to make sure her lips were still there, because she suddenly sensed that they belonged to him now. “Did that really happen?” Chase asked, almost in disbelief. “You kissed me!” And then he kissed her again. He spent the night in her bed, and as they lay there together in the morning, she asked, “So, are we, like, together now?” But she already knew the answer. She realized that despite the last ten years, there was still so much about him that she didn’t know, but wanted to. On the other hand, he had already seen her at her worst, but wanted to be with her anyway. Bree wasn’t sure what the future would hold, though there were obvious obstacles they already faced. She knew it would be a long road, but was confident that it would be worth it because, for the first time in a long time, she was happy.