Keep Breathing
a niley one-shot
"You know, you could tell me the fucking truth once and awhile! Would it kill you, Nicholas? Would it?!" Miley yelled at him as she trudged up the stairs in their two-floor condo.
"Shit, Miley! I'm not lying, why can't you just accept that?" Nick shouted back at her, trailing behind her as she turned to the right and briskly walked over to her dresser in the corner of their room.
"There you go again! Lies, Nick, lies. I know you were with her, stop pretending you weren't! God, your flat-out denying it to my face is actually hurting me more than the fact you were with her at all," she sighed, blinking back the tears and swallowing the burn in her throat. She pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed a handful of shirts before throwing them on their king-sized bed.
"Miley, I-" he began from the doorway of the master bedroom.
"Nick," she said, turning to him as she made her way to the walk-in closet, "I don't want to hear it. I'm tired of doing this."
"I am, too, Mi. God," he told her running his hands through his hair, "just believe that I'm being honest." She appeared from the closet, a suitcase by her side. She just shook her head as she put it on the bed, stuffing the shirts inside and other items. Miley zipped it shut, making sure she didn't give in to the tears that were threatening to fall down her face.
She took the strap of the suit case and put it on her shoulder. She turned to face him. "I'm done, Nick. I'm done," she whispered, silently choking back the lump in her throat. She brushed past him and slowly made her way down the stairs.
She was done; done with all the lies and all the empty promises. She loved him but she was sick of breaking; sick of feeling like she was failing their relationship; like it was her fault. She had to suck it up and realize it was him who was doing all that to her. At last, she admitted it to herself. She was going to leave and she knew she didn't want to but she had to. As much as it hurt to walk past him and not look at him in the eyes, she knew she'd eventually feel better; her heart would eventually heal.
"You can't just walk away, Mi!" he yelled after her.
"Of course I can, Nick," she said while turning to face him as she stood at the bottom of the stairs pulling her jacket on. "I'm walking away because I'm tired of this. Just let me walk away. It's what you truly want anyway, right?"
She looked at him; his face showed he was hurting, but definitely not like she was. He knew what he was doing when he did it and he chose to anyway. He didn't get to hurt like she did, it was his fault their worlds were crumbling to pieces around them. She picked up the suitcase at her feet and opened the front door before leaving their condo, leaving behind everything she had loved for the past two and a half years.
- - -
"Miley? I didn't know you were coming over," Demi said when she opened her front door, revealing Miley with a weak smile on her face.
"I didn't either, but I figured I come say hi to my best friend," she told Demi, shutting the door behind her as she followed her into the kitchen.
"I was just making pasta. Want some?" Demi offered as she rummaged around a cabinet looking for the strainer.
"Mm, yes, please!" Miley smiled. Pasta was her favorite thing to eat. She didn't care that it was all carbs; she'd decided that she could probably live off of pasta if she had to.
"It's with a pesto sauce, you're favorite," Demi smiled as she mixed the sauce into the pasta in a big bowl.
"I just want to take this moment to thank God that my best friend is an amazing cook," Miley laughed. She opened another cabinet and pulled two bowls out for her and Demi.
"Last night I made an amazing triple chocolate fudge cake. It was to-die-for."
"Why didn't you call me! I would've helped you eat it," Miley sighed dramatically.
"I would've but I ended up eating the whole thing soo...," Demi smiled.
"You're such a pig."
"Me? How about you? You're like a vacuum; you'll inhale anything that's edible. Except for banana's, of course," Demi teased.
"Ew, don't say the 'b' word. And yeah, I admit it. I love food. But so do you, so, we're even!"
Demi laughed but then turned serious. "So, how's it going with Nick?"
"Oh. Yeah, I left him today," Miley told her quietly, scooping some pasta into her bowl.
"Oh," Demi said, avoiding Miley's eyes.
"Don't act surprised, Dem," Miley chuckled lightly. "You've been waiting for me to do it for the past 6 months."
"Yeah, I know... But I am sorry, Mi. I know you love him."
"That's what makes it hard, you know? Like you love someone so much but you know you can't stay with them."
"I think this is one of those I-love-you-but-I'm-letting-you-go kind of situations," Demi replied. She twirled her fork in the pesto-covered linguini and stuffed it in her mouth. "Mm, this is really good, if I don't say myself," she laughed.
"It's super good comfort food, too," a quiet Miley grumbled.
"Mi, don't think about him right now," Demi demanded. "It's not good for you to focus on him. Too much negativity surrounded your relationship with Nick."
"But I still love him."
"I know you do."
"It hurts thinking about him with all of those girls."
"Would you hate me if I called him a fucking asshole?"
"No, I'd like that, actually."
"Okay. Nick's a fucking asshole and you don't deserve scum like him."
Miley smiled at Demi and continued to drown her sorrows in the irresistible bowl of pasta.
- - -
Nick tossed and turned over and over again, failing in finding a position that made him feel comfortable. The empty spot next to him was untouched and cold. It screamed at him, "Why did you do that to her? You were supposed to love her unconditionally, be faithful and be everything she deserved!"
When Miley was lying next to him, the sheets and comforter would always be in a jumble and her presence would always make him feel warm and content. But no one was lying next to him now and he was wide awake at three in the morning; his mind crowded with thoughts about his mistakes he had made in the past year.
He blamed temptation. He blamed desire. He blamed Miley, too. But only a little bit. Most of all, he blamed himself. He had the power to stop it; to put an end to the late-night flings he had while Miley slept alone in their home. She didn't know what was going on in the beginning, but he was never a good liar. She eventually realized what was going on. It happened again and she caught him in another lie. Hence the reason why she left him.
Nick sat up in the king-sized bed and flicked the light on above his head. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and pressed one of his speed-dials.
"Hey, Miles. Uh, I know you don't want to have anything to do with me right now but can we at least talk about this? I don't want things to be... the way they are. I'm sorry. Call me back, please?" Nick ran a hand through his curly locks and sighed. He had fucked up.
Big time.
- - -
At Demi's house, Miley lay awake in the guest room. She tried to fall asleep, even succeeded once or twice, but always ended up wide awake, staring at the stars through the skylight in the ceiling. "Where did it all go wrong?" she silently wondered. "What did I do to make him to do this to me? What made him do it? Was I pushing him away?"
As far as she was concerned, they had a pretty kick-ass sex life. So, she doubted he went after other women because he wasn't "satisfied" with her. To any woman who's husband/boyfriend/fiance cheated on her, she'd probably think she wasn't good enough in bed. Not to sound self-absorbed but Miley knew she was good in bed so why else would he cheat on her?
She didn't know and she was tired of trying to figure it out. She was sick of trying to figure him out and his moods and why he distanced himself from her. He was sounding more and more like a teenage girl.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand and before it could fall to the floor, she caught it. She read the small lit-up screen: 1 New Voicemail. She hit send and she was connected to her voicemail and a few seconds later, Nick's voice was all she could hear. She sat up, a bit surprised he actually called her. The message ended and she let the phone drop from her hand onto the mattress.
He called her... He wanted to talk. What would she say to him that she didn't already say when she flipped out on him earlier that day? She laid back down and buried her voice in her pillow, let out a scream and somehow, finally fell asleep.
- - -
"Miley?" a half-awake Demi asked as she squinted her eyes. Demi had woken up to noise coming from downstairs and when she came down, she found Miley running on the treadmill. "Mi, it's 6 a.m. What the hell?"
"I'm working out," she replied breathlessly. "I've been on here for an hour already. I feel so great, Dem, you should use this thing more often. It's like drugs but healthier."
"Once again, it's freaking six in the morning!" she shouted back in frustration.
"Demi, I'm not letting the day go to waste. I'm taking charge; I'm making plans. I'm actually taking charge of my life!" Miley explained to Demi who was rubbing her tired eyes.
"Ugh, fine. Take charge but take charge a little quieter, 'kay? Lift weights or do yoga, or something. Just, please, no treadmill. It's too loud," Demi mumbled as she dragged her feet across the floor and back up the stairs.
Miley rolled her eyes and laughed a little before stepping off the treadmill.
- - -
Nick found himself awake at eight in the morning, particularly unusual for him. He was used to sleeping in until at least nine. But today was different. And not just for obvious reasons. He could feel it and he didn't necessarily like it. He searched for his phone and stared at it; debating whether to call Miley again or try Demi to see if he could talk to Miley through her.
Obviously, Miley didn't want to talk to him. And Demi wasn't exactly his number one fan, either. He sighed, found Demi in his contacts list, and hit send.
Demi answered on the third ring. "Hello?" she sighed. 'This should go well,' Nick thought wordlessly to himself.
"Hi, Demi. It's Nick," he replied.
"Um, yeah, caller ID kinda let me know. What do you want?" she snapped, clearly not enjoying the conversation they were having.
"I need to talk to Miley."
"She doesn't want to talk you. And to be honest, neither do I so, goodbye!"
"Demi! Wait."
"Ugh, what?"
"Please. I need to talk to her. I'm sorry for all that I did, I really am. I just want to work things out with her," Nick tried.
"What part do you not understand, buddy? She left you. Now, go fuck one of your bimbos. That is what you do best, isn't it?" she said smoothly before hanging up and whispering to herself, "asshole."
- - -
Miley stepped out of the steaming shower, droplets of water covering her, head to toe. She grabbed a soft, aqua-blue towel and began to dry herself off, squeezing the excess water out of her hair in the process.
She wrapped the towel around her toned and lightly tanned body. She twisted her wet, wavy hair into a low bun and opened the bathroom door. Walking over to her suitcase in the guest room of Demi's house, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
She couldn't help but notice the dark circles that were so evident on her otherwise fairly flawless face. Had he done that to her? Had all the pain he caused her made her eyes look old, droopy and tired? Throughout the time she had found about him and his lies and his, well, "friends", she had convinced herself that she was too strong to crumble beneath him. She believed although her heart was beaten and battered because of the truth, it couldn't physically and emotionally and mentally make her feel like she was lost; like the world was spinning around her and she was stuck in the middle of it all, just standing there.
But as she looked at the dark and faded purple skin under eyes, she realized that everything that had happened to her, did cause her stress; it caused the pain that she was feeling on the inside to be visible on the outside, to whoever wished to see. She didn't like it, though. She was supposed to feel strong, remember? But the circles were still there and the pain was still there, inside and out, and there wasn't much she could do about it.
Except for one thing.
Erase Nick from her mind and from her life, completely. Leave no trace of him. Not one thing that could remind her of him or trigger memories from their time together, happy or sad.
Miley dragged her suitcase into the bathroom to change, feeling more self-empowered than she'd felt in way too long.
- - -
"I'll be back later, Dem!" Miley called to Demi, where ever she was, from the doorway. She toussled her wavy hair with her hand as she pulled the door closed.
The wind rolled softly through the open window of Miley's car. The radio was blasting, one of Miley's favorite things to do. What better feeling than going for a drive with the windows rolled down and music blasting out of the speakers on a sunny day? Hitting her right blinker, Miley turned down the road of her old condo. She made a left and pulled into the driveway, sighing as she looked at Nick's car next to her.
She didn't bother ringing the doorbell; after all, she did own half the place. She walked in and as she was shutting the door, a voice rang from the end of foyer.
"Miley? I-I didn't think you'd come back," he said quietly.
She sighed quietly, silently cursing to herself because she had hoped maybe he'd be asleep and she could slip right in and out without him even knowing. She turned to face him.
"Technically I'm coming back. But only to get my things," she told him before turning to take the steps two at a time.
"Wait, I didn't think you were serious," Nick responded and quickly followed her up the stairs.
"You're kidding, right? What kind of idiot would come back to this? Am I really that dumb to you, Nick?" Miley shook her head at him as she grabbed a few more suitcases from the closet.
Nick touched her arm, hoping he could convince her to stay. But deep inside, he knew their wasn't much hope. And Miley knew there was no chance she'd ever come back. "Mi, please. Can we talk?"
Miley looked at him, her blue eyes were big and shining. Nick had to admit that she looked exceptionally beautiful; her hair fell in it's natural, "beachy" waves, she had on a floral sundress that was short enough to show off her long legs and her new gladiator sandals pulled everything together. She looked gorgeous enough that he could not help but stare at her for a few seconds.
"Sure. Talk. But I'll be packing. And I can't assure you that I'll be listening," she told him, not bothering to hide the small smirk that formed on her light pink lips. She walked over to her dresser and began emptying it's contents onto the bed. Then, she placed everything into a suitcase.
"Miley, I'm so sorry. I want you to know that. I-I don't know what made me do it-"
Miley turned to him swiftly, shaking her head. "Okay, now, you've really got to be kidding me. Wanna know what made you do it? Because your a total asshole, Nick! God, I was stupid enough to believe I could change you. I know you were a... a womanizer before we met but I honestly thought you changed. We were good together, you know? We fit each other. Almost perfectly. But you... You were still you. The cheater. The pig. The one who... Who didn't think before he acted."
Nick didn't say anything. He just stood there and watched her as she said what he knew he needed to hear. Had he really blamed her for his cheating? The beautiful, self-less girl that he let go? He didn't want to believe that he was that idiotic. He didn't know what to say to her because he knew he couldn't say or do a thing to heal the wounds he made and repeatedly reopened.
Miley pinched the bridge of her nose and turned away from Nick. She didn't want to cry. She couldn't let him see how much the end of their relationship affected her.
"Just let me pack, Nick. Let me get my things and then I'll be gone. Then we can both move on," she whispered while zipping one of the suitcases shut. She moved onto the closet, shoving everything into the suitcases. Next was the bathroom. She gathered all of her stuff and placed them into a tote bag. She looked at him as he stood helplessly at the edge of the bed, watching her move from one thing to the next. She slipped both straps of the suitcases onto both her shoulders and held the tote bag in her hand as she made her way down the stairs.
- - -
"I'm going to have a mover come and get the rest of the big things. Like the couch," she said to Nick as they stood outside on the porch.
"I like that couch," he protested.
"I like it more and I bought it. It was in my apartment before we moved in together, remember?"
"Oh. Right," he replied.
"And then some of the kitchen stuff. Like the blender and coffee machine. And maybe even the dining room set." She thought for a moment. "Nah, you can have that. It's too formal for wherever I'll be living anyway."
They stood outside, the breeze blowing wisps of hair into Miley's face. Miley sighed and sat down on the steps, burying her face in her hands.
Nick sat down next to her, unsure if he should have or not. "Are you okay, Mi?"
She sighed. "No. Do I look okay?" she asked him rhetorically.
"You look beautiful today."
She looked at him. Her blue eyes looked even brighter in the bright sunshine. "Nick, just stop. Whatever you're doing... Just stop."
They sat for a few moments in silence, enjoying the breeze but not necessarily each other's company.
"What are you going to do? You know, now that we're, uh, done?" Nick asked her cautiously.
She looked up at the sky and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know. Get a little house on the ocean maybe. Focus on work. Forget about you," she said and looked at him, not caring that she detected a bit of hurt on his face.
"But most of all, I'm going to keep breathing. 'Cause everything that's happened, Nick, has made me feel like there's a weight on my chest and I can't breathe." She blinked back a few tears before continuing. "And I hate that. I feel weak because I let you do this to me. I was fooled by you and your love and-"
"I really did love you, Miley. Don't ever think I didn't."
She nodded slightly. "Yeah, okay." She let out a deep breath. "I should get going."
Miley stood up and smoothed out of her dress. She walked down the first step before turning back to him. "Oh, and I have this for you." She lifted her hand and pulled off the engagement ring. "Here."
Nick looked at the beautiful ring in the beautiful hands of beautiful Miley. He'd never forgive himself for what he did, he knew that. But he really hated himself as he watched her walk down the path, getting closer to her car with each second that passed.
"Miley," he called out.
Miley turned back in his direction. "What, Nick?"
"Keep breathing, okay?"
She closed her eyes. There was no denying it anymore, she decided. She was okay with being sad for a little while. It was the end of a beautiful thing. A beautiful and poisonous relationship that had to come to an end somehow. "Okay," she whispered and gave him a small smile before making her way to her car, taking it all in. She was never coming back. She was never going to see him again. She wasn't going to be put through anything more by him. And she was perfectly content with it.
a/n: Did you like it? I like it. It's kind of bittersweet, I guess. Please review, it would mean the world to me! And I'm sorry I haven't updated Take My Hand in forever!! I'm really sorry. Love forever; Hayden.