Labored Breathing

Ariana.

Head-wounds always bleed like crazy. 

Demi cradled Adam in her arms, comforting him as silent tears rolled down his gentle face. She dabbed a damp cloth to the cut across his forehead, humming a lullaby to calm his crying.

"You're okay," she cooed, wiping his tears. "Mama's here. I'm not going anywhere. Do you see me, Adam? I'm here."

As the grin spread across Demi face, I felt the corners of my lips curl upward. As if we were telepathically connected, she turned and looked at me.

"Ari's here too," she told him, never breaking my gaze. "So you know we're safe, right?"

Adam hiccuped, slowly settling.

"Y-yeah," he breathed.

"It's just a bump," I added. "But you're a tough boy, Adam. Just like your dad."

Adam wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist.

"Really?" He gasped between sobs. I made my way over to Demi side, gently taking Adam's hand into mine.

"Absolutely," I confirmed. "Adam, five years ago, I actually met your dad. We were friends."

"Great friends," Demi interjected. She smiled at me then, her voice becoming soft. "Ari and your dad were . . . just alike."

"And, Adam! Your dad was the toughest, bravest, most loving, caring, gentle man in the whole world." I squeezed his hand tightly. "That's how I know that you will be too. You're just like him."

Finally, Adam's smile spread across his cheeks. He sat up from his mother's lap and crossed his arms, suddenly resistant to affection.

"Stop Mommy," he said, taking the cloth from her hands. "I can do it."

Demi smiled.

"Are you sure, Adam?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm tough like Daddy. I'm all better now."

In a flash, Adam took off running, dashing back into his bedroom. Demi and I shared a laugh, relieved that the worst was over.

"At least the bleeding stopped," she sighed. "It wasn't as bad as it looked."

"Head-wounds," I remarked. "It's never as serious as it seems."

I stood to return to the kitchen, but the touch of Demi's hand to my wrist ceased me.

"Ari," she muttered, standing to meet my eye level. Her lips, gentle and kind, curved slightly. "You're so great with him. I can't tell you how much it means to me."

My face grew overwhelmed with heat; my heart was suddenly aflutter. The touch of her hand gave me pause, surged through me like volts of electricity. The gentle balance of the colors in her eyes, the tenderness of her skin, the velvet of her voice, the mist of her freckles, the sharp angles of her collar bones - everything that she was - stole my breath.

I'd been in love with Demi for two years.

But Joseph was my friend. Five years ago, his tragic death changed everything in all of our lives. She was still in love with him; she would always be in love with him. 

Because Joseph was perfect.

I'd never compare. I could never be with Demi.

I could never do that to Joseph.