In the days following the battle, Ashley spent a lot of time walking. She'd made it clear she wasn't mad at me, but she still needed time to process what had happened. So we all gave her the space she needed. Gertrude was already planning what to do in the event of Harry's passing - although early reports suggested he was going to make it through - and as for myself, I knew he and I would have to talk. I was unsure if it would be appropriate to start a romance with him, even though he was my second-chance mate, but Gertrude had told me it would not hurt her friendship with me. Ashley had also told me that she'd given him up for me, but even so, I still wasn't sure if it would be the right thing to do.
"Why wouldn't it be?" GiGi asked, when I brought the subject up one afternoon.
"Ashley lost his cub," I reminded her. "And she almost lost him. She loves him more than she's willing to let on, and I know she's having second thoughts about giving him up. I can't just go ahead and take him as my mate."
GiGi squeezed my hand. "What are you going to do?"
"I have no idea," I admitted.
Rather than waste time worrying about it, though, I decided to swim instead. Right now, it was the one thing that could soothe me. Every time I was in the house, I felt the constant worries of the future wearing me down, and the uncertainty of the future that lay ahead of me. I did love Harry, but at the same time, I simply couldn't see a future with him, not when Ashley was hurting so badly. Those worries constantly circled through my brain, tormenting me so badly at times it felt like I was drowning.
But when I was underwater, those worries had no power over me.
I spent a lot of time under the surface. It had always been a refuge, the one place where I felt free. In fact, in the days after the battle, I think I spent more time underwater than I did in the house. No one questioned me; they knew I was hurting over the loss of my cub, and being underwater was the one way I could grieve.
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I often dived to the bottom, swimming for as long as I could until my lungs were on fire. Other times I let myself float near the bottom, suspended, watching the weak winter sun on the water's surface. Sometimes I would purposely let out almost all the air in my lungs, keeping myself underwater until the spasms were almost bending me in two, my body convulsing, trying to force me to breathe, the pain and pressure in my lungs growing more unbearable until it became a race against time to see if I could make it to the surface before I ran out of air.
Sometimes I did run out of air, but those were the moments where, ironically, I felt the most alive. I had no intentions of drowning myself, of course. But it was still an unbelievable feeling, to push myself so far, to go so long without air, to skirt the edge of peril as I stayed under, often well past the limits I had.
But even when I was struggling to get back to the surface, my lungs aching, my body convulsing as it fought for the air I was denying it, it always was worth it when my head finally broke the surface, taking in that first sweet breath and giving my body a chance to recover.
But it was never too long before I went under again.
And as the days passed, I found myself getting better at staying underwater for longer. And as the last days of the year approached, I finally came to a decision about what I was going to do. I had no pack, and was therefore beholden to no one. And truth be told, I needed to get away.
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January was upon us by the time we got the good news that Harry had woken up. With my mind made up and peace in my heart, I broached my idea. "I'm going away," I said that night as we sat in the parlor.
"What?" GiGi said, stunned.
"Why?" Ashley demanded.
I smiled at her and took her hand. "He needs you, and you need him," I said. "Trust me. This is the right thing to do."
"Are you sure?" Gertrude asked. "You do know what you're giving up."
I took a deep breath. "I do," I said. "But I know it would be wrong to start an affair with Harry. I do love him, but he and Ashley are meant to be together. They might not be each other's second-chance mates, but they still belong together. I'm not getting in the way of that."
Ashley shook her head. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "I'm sure," I said firmly. "This is definitely the right thing to do. I need to go away and clear my head. I'm beholden to no pack, and I feel better being a solitary. I may find someone, but right now, I just need to find myself."
"As long as you're sure," Ashley said slowly.
"I'm sure," I said firmly.
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Even so, as I lay in bed that night, I didn't feel quite so sure as I had earlier in the evening. But I refused to give in. This was the right thing for me to do.
And yet, deep down, I knew that I was likely making a big mistake.
With a sigh I sat up and threw the covers aside, grabbing a dressing down. I knew I was doing the right thing for me, but why on earth did it feel like I was going against a path which felt more right than the one I was planning to take?
I had no idea.
But ten minutes later, as I rested on the bottom of the pool, looking up at the full moon dancing in shining patterns on the surface, I felt better. To be sure, I was all but out of air, my lungs burning, but I refused the siren's call. I needed to be sure I was doing the right thing.
Still, as the spasms became stronger and my need to breathe became more urgent by the momemt, I felt more and more certain that going my own way possibly wasn't the right thing to do.
More spasms wracked me, and with a start, I realised I'd stayed under for far too long. My urge to breathe was now almost impossible to ignore, my diaphragm contracting painfully, my lungs burning. I kicked for the surface, the pain almost bending me over. I felt true fear as I raced my body's need to breathe, but I pushed on, a hand over my nose and mouth to try and stop any last air from escaping. My lungs were on fire, the pain and pressure causing me to see stars, but just as I took that first fatal breath, I broke the surface moments later, gasping as I held onto the side, my head spinning as I spat out the water I'd inhaled in that last desperate push to reach the surface.
Once I'd got my breath back, I pulled myself out and walked on shaking legs to the banana lounge, grabbing the towel and drying myself, still trembling as I recalled that very near brush with drowning. And yet, now that the peril was over, I realised that my chosen path was not the right one to take. My near-drowming had left me with not only a greater appreciation of life, but it had also made me realise it was okay to do something for myself.
My mind made up, I wrapped my dressing gown around myself and left the pool house. Overhead, the full moon shone brightly, and I breathed in deeply. My heart now truly felt at peace, and as I made my way back to the house, I knew I was going to sleep better now that I'd properly made up my mind about the path I was going to take.
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