The Last Exhale Read Online Free Page B

“Great job, Kennedy.”
    I fix the kids’ plates and set them on the table. Eric fixes mine and his while I pour us all a glass of lemonade. We grab hands as the head of this household blesses our food.
    The dinner table is very quiet. It’s so quiet I can hear Eric Sr. smacking on his food. I’ve never been able to understand why he feels the need to chew with his mouth open. While we were dating, I’d always try to find something to converse about, because his smacking would drive me crazy. He ate like he had no teeth. I told him about it once or twice and he’d stop, only to go back to it a few weeks later. Nothing seemed to work. Now, he has our son thinking it’s a normal way to eat.
    EJ fiddles around with his food.
    I look across the table at him. “Cookie.”
    That one word straightens him right up. He smacks on the rice and chicken, does his best to work my nerves just like his father. The cabbage sits on his plate as he toys at it with his fork.
    Kennedy pushes her empty plate in front of her. “Mom, can we go to the mall tomorrow? I want a pair of pink leggings.”
    My husband glances up at me, smiles, and shoves another biteof food in his mouth. He eats until his belly is full, without a single compliment to how the food tastes. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s too much for him to let me know that the food is good. He could tell me it’s bad and it wouldn’t bother me as much as not saying anything at all. He’s always been that way. He’ll eat whatever I cook, as if an empty plate should say enough.
    And this is how it goes every evening.
    So routine.
    There has to be more to life than this.

6
BRANDON
    D ays have gone by since my failed attempt at celebrating nine years of marriage with my wife. Things are still the same. No talking. No lovemaking. Barely a touch in passing. Strangers sleeping on the same stale sheets.
    Driving home from work, I decide to stop by the gym between the two places I spend most of my time. It caught my eye months ago, but I had no reason to go in and get in shape. Maybe this is what my marriage needs to get back to the way it used to be.
    â€œWelcome to Pick Your Fit,” a woman in jeans and a T-shirt bearing the gym’s logo greets. “What brings you in today?”
    â€œIt’s been awhile since I’ve seen the inside of a gym. Just wanted to see what you have to offer.”
    â€œWell, you’ve taken the first step. We have a lot to offer here. First of all, we’re open twenty-four hours, seven days a week.”
    As she goes into the spiel that she goes over with every new person who walks through the doors, I can’t help but feel like she sees my insecurity. Maybe it’s part of her job description to read people, see who’s serious about making a healthier life change and who’s not. Then again, maybe it’s just me being insecure, thinking everybody can see the same misery I see when I look in the mirror.
    I ask, “Where do I sign?”
    We step into her office, where she goes over the contract with me. I pull out my Visa, charge the full-year membership upfront. Get a full access passkey, T-shirt, water bottle, and an extra month out of the deal.
    â€œSee, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
    â€œNot at all,” I tell her.
    â€œIf you have any questions or concerns about your experience here, my door is always open. This gym is all of ours.” She reaches out, gives me a firm handshake.
    â€œGlad to know that.”
    Since I had been eyeing the fitness center for a little while now, I knew today was the day to make the change. I packed a bag before I left for work this morning. I go back out to my ride, grab my bag and prepare to start a new life.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    Time slipped away from me in the gym. I failed to notice day had turned to night. The manager’s office light is out. I’m in here alone. I look up at the