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Tim can’t really remember how he got here. Somehow, he drove home. It must have been on autopilot, and he tells himself he was paying attention at the time, but he has no recollection of running into lights, or traffic, or any pedestrians trying to cross the street. He wouldn’t drive if he wasn’t fit to. He wouldn’t put anyone at risk. A couple of days ago, he could have said that with confidence, but not anymore. He can’t be sure of anything anymore, because at the top of his list of things he would never, ever do… right at the very, very top… would be walking out on Lucy. And he just did.
Lucy…
His beautiful, sweet, brave, amazing Lucy isn’t his anymore, and it all happened in a blur. Like he was watching himself do it… break the thing that meant the absolute most to him. Break her. And he didn’t want to. He didn’t mean to. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself.
He wishes he had. His inner voice had been yelling at him to stop. To shut his mouth, and stay put and stop walking, and turn around and drop to his knees and beg… Beg her to forget what he’d said. What he’s done. But then there was this other voice saying he deserved all the pain he was feeling. He didn’t deserve to look at her for even a second longer, to touch her, or draw strength from her, or see that pretty, pretty face shine all that love on him.
He wants to fight it. He wants nothing more than to turn on his heels and walk right back out the door, jump in his truck and drive to her. Find her. Beg her. But he’s stuck somewhere between his front door and living room and for the life of him, he can’t make himself move.
He’s only vaguely aware of Kojo distantly whining from where he hid under the dining room table. Sensing something was severely wrong, the poor dog crawled underneath there to get away from Tim. At first Kojo had tried to get him to move. To nudge him forward. Spinning around him, bringing him a toy and dropping it at his feet, whimpering pitifully and crouching low in submission when nothing he did had any affect. Tim thinks Kojo might actually be scared of him now, and he can’t really blame him. Right now, Tim is terrified of himself as well.
So, it’s not like he doesn’t want to greet and reassure Kojo. He just literally can’t. Because… his entire place still smells like Lucy. It’s something that gradually happened over the course of their relationship. At first it was just his bedroom. He remembers exactly the first time he noticed, walking in there after the first weekend she’d spent here with him. How her subtle, feminine scent had taken over the kind of neutral scent of his laundry detergent. Then it slowly spread. And it hit him like a ton of bricks when he just walked in. That his place isn’t just his anymore.
It's not just the scent of her shampoo that lingers in the bathroom after she showers, or the perfume she uses before going out. Or that other fragrance that’s only for work (it’s how his shop smelled for all of her rookie year). It’s not just the smell of her clothes in his closet, or the scented candles she has scattered all across his living room. Nor the incense she likes to burn on Sunday mornings off while doing yoga in that one spot near his dining table where the sun casts a triangle of light on the floor. Or the smell of her cooking, when she shows him new recipes he’s never tried before. Her teas when he opens up the top left kitchen cabinet. It’s all that, but it all culminates into something more. Something typically and uniquely Lucy that tells him she’s part of his life now, in ways he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams. And not just that. She’s his home.
Her favorite denim jacket is still hanging in his hallway. She has more pairs of shoes here than he does. A pair of well-worn sneakers near the front door. Her high heeled boots next to his closet. A couple of solid flat ones. The shoes she wore at Nolan’s wedding, silly fluffy slippers with bunny ears that she loves to wear when she’s in her pajamas. There are books she’s reading. The pink charger of her phone. A pair of sun glasses. There’s a mug that he refers to as her mug in his mind now, and he knows it’s still on her bedside table (because that side of the bed is hers now) when she took it with her to have her tea there the last time she stayed over. He hasn’t been able to move it since.
And now he’s frozen. In this spot in his home that can never feel like just his again. And he’s looking at the coral lipstick Lucy left on his kitchen island. He knows that’s what it’s called. Not pink or orange. Even though he can barely tell the difference, which drives Lucy crazy. He’s not entirely sure she’s not just pretending there’s an actual difference to mess with him. But if she is, it’s fine because his heart warms and aches with the memory of bickering with her as he watched her put it on. And then some more, while driving to the restaurant they were going, bringing it up time and time again during dinner. Both thoroughly amused throughout the whole thing.
Lucy all riled up, asking him if he could tell the difference between the color of his broccoli and her salad? Because then surely distinguishing coral from pink shouldn’t be that hard. Him trying to keep a straight face when he insisted the broccoli and salad looked the same too, but even if there was a slight difference, it’s still just two shades of green, not a completely new color. Then she counted on her fingers a whole list of colors that were “just a different shade” of something else, but still had their own name: plum a shade of purple, ruby a shade of red, fuchsia a shade of pink, ochre a shade of yellow, turquoise a shade of green. Then he said she just proved his point that coral would be nothing more than a shade of pink then. And turquoise is a shade of blue, not green. She leaned in, grabbing his wrist while she gave him that fiery “don’t make me hurt you” look, which was basically the whole point of him aggravating her like that. They laughed all evening. He kissed her in between courses because he just couldn’t wait until the end of their date night. He held her hand on top of the table, played with her fingers as they sat there, talking for hours.
Now her lipstick is right there. On a little tray with her eye-pencil and mascara. And Tim is blinking tears away just looking at it. He’s hit by the mental image of her right in this spot, putting on her make-up because she thinks the lighting is better here than in his bathroom.
He thought he couldn’t feel any worse. But right then his whole world comes crashing down when the reality of what he did sinks in. He will never get to see her do that again. Or watch her walk around barefoot. Take her morning coffee with her to the patio to watch Kojo chase butterflies as she slowly wakes up. Hear her sing in the shower. He always knew she has a beautiful voice from the times he heard her softly singing along in the shop. But that’s nothing compared to how she sings when she forgets anyone is around to hear her. Sometimes he just stands outside the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, listening to it for a while before he gets in there with her. Because how is he supposed to resist?
Her soft, little “Hi…” as he steps under the spray with her. The way her eyes always greedily drop down and then back up again, giving him a thorough once-over.
All he can think of now, is her face before he walked away. The sound of her voice, breaking. Telling him: no. And asking him why. It’s not even been an hour and already he misses her with a ferocity he never experienced before. Not even when Isabel left because by then he hadn’t been able to connect with her for months on end and that loneliness had already become his new normal.
He hadn’t been able to connect… He had tried to reach out time and time again, but even when she was there, it felt like she might as well have been on a different planet.
Now he has been doing the same to Lucy. The one thing that had hurt the most when Isabel did it to him. He could have handled everything else. An affair, her addiction, all the UC cases she was dealing with. None of it had felt as bad as her keeping him in the dark. The not knowing had slowly destroyed him. The lies. Her refusal to let him in on what was happening to her when all he wanted to do was be there for her. Help her.
And now…
He can’t believe he didn’t see it while he was doing it. He didn’t think at all, too busy high-speed crashing through all the safety barriers in his life. The only rational thought he had during it all was getting the one person he loved out before he took her with him while he was plummeting to his demise. So, that’s what he’s been doing. Pushing Lucy out, and he did it for her. To protect her. Because he knew she would never get herself out and leave him.
It's for the best, he told himself when he walked away. It’s what’s best for her. So, that’s it.
It’s all over now. He lost her. His stomach turns and he almost heaves. He ended it. And now… all they had… all they were going to have… Oh god… What did he do?
He told her “Unless it is”. And they pictured their life together. He could see it all in that one moment of hesitation before he asked her to have dinner with him sometime. Her face when he’d look up at her from down on one knee one day. Lucy in a white dress, with flowers in her hair, walking up to him. His hand on her belly, feeling their baby move inside of her, as they’d lie in bed, arguing about baby names… Two little girls. A baby boy. He could already picture their faces. How they’d look just like her… and… It’s all gone now. He just… he let it all go. Ruined his entire future. He needs to… Has to… He…
He needs to get to her. And beg.
But he can’t move. He can’t even catch a decent breath. He’s choking on sobs, and his vision blurs, and he thinks he’s blacking out. Or maybe he’ll throw up. Is this what going into shock feels like? He’s been shot before. He should know, but this feels worse than that. So much worse.
Then he hears the door. The sound of footsteps that he knows are Lucy’s, but that can’t be, because he just left her out in the cold on a parking lot of all places. He just left her there in tears, to fend for herself. He did that to her.
Right before his dad died, Tim had told him off. Basically told him he deserved to die alone and in pain for the man he was, and prided himself for being better. But he’s not. He’s worse, because unlike his father he knows the difference between right and wrong, but still he only brings pain to those around him, and now… now he hurt Lucy – the kindest and most beautiful person in the world – in ways he never thought he’d be capable of. He’s not better than his dad. He is his dad.
The footsteps stop just short of him, and as Tim turns, he thinks his mind conjured her up. Lucy, standing there, right in front of him. He must be hallucinating, but when he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, wiping away the tears that are clouding his vision, she looks like something he would never picture in a thousand years. She looks hurt. Desperation and sadness in her tearful eyes, her throat tight as she clenches her fist around her keys. ‘What the hell just happened?’
He can’t tell if she’s more angry or devastated. Both equally? Her eyes look puffy, her skin blotchy. She cried… He made her cry…
‘You do not walk out on me like that, Tim! I deserve more? How about an actual conversation? One minute you’re coming over to pick me up for dinner and you bring me a gift you had specifically made for me. We’re kissing and smiling and next thing I know you disappear on me for days, you refuse to let me in on whatever it was you were going through, and now I finally know! And just as I feel like I can breathe again, you just dump me? Who the hell are you?’
He's still processing she’s really here. And he thinks: of course she is. Only a fool would think he can just leave Lucy Chen behind on a parking lot. Like she’d ever let go just like that.
‘I don’t know…’ he says, the words hardly recognizable.
‘How about Tim Bradford finishes what he starts? Huh? What was that? Just some catchy phrase you came up with?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m–’
‘Oh, you’re sorry… You know, that doesn’t cut it. If that’s all I get, Tim… all you can come up with after all we’ve been through… then maybe you should shut up and let me do the talking for a minute.’
‘Lucy…’
‘No! Listen!’ she yells. ‘I know you! You don’t walk out on people. You’ve never given up on anyone that matters to you. But it only takes you a split-second to turn your back on me, is that it?’
‘No, that’s not it at all. I’m not giving up on you, I’m–’
‘Looking out for me. That’s right.’ She makes a sound of utter disdain. ‘You tell yourself that, Tim. You know what? If you’re done with us, that’s fine. If I’m just a liability to you… Someone too weak to confide in, if you still can’t see me as an equal, then I don’t know what we’re doing here and this whole thing was a huge waste of our time, and we should definitely end it now. But don’t pretend you’re doing this for me. If you leave me, that will be your decision, your call, that you’re making for no one else but yourself!’
‘I’m trying to do what’s best for you!’
‘You’re insulting me! That’s for me to decide, not you! Look at me! Tim! Look at me!’
He does, even though he can barely see straight and it hurts. It hurts to look at her and see her sad. It hurts to look at her, knowing he fucked up. Failed her spectacularly.
‘Who am I to you?’ she asks. Her voice has gone soft in a way that tells him she’s expecting a real answer, but he can’t even begin to explain. No words would ever do her justice. As he struggles to find an answer, his mind comes up with one by itself.
‘Lucy…’ he says. Because her name encompasses all she means to him. Everything. Lucy is everything.
‘I am not your boot,’ she continues, her lip trembling as she speaks. ‘I’m not someone you are responsible for any more than I am for you. If you can’t trust me to know my own limits. To decide for myself what I can or can’t handle. If you can’t see me as the strong, capable person that I know I am, then clearly what I thought we had was more one-sided than I ever imagined and that hurts me more than I can even express right now. It infuriates me, Tim. It makes me want to hate you and walk out of here and never have to look at you again…’
He swallows hard. Then he nods. Because she’s right. And she has every right to feel that way. But there’s no way he can let her think that’s how he feels about her. ‘There’s no one in the world I trust more than you.’
‘You have a nice way of showing it. Damn, Tim! Thank you for proving there are worse ways to get dumped than by text!’
He doesn’t know why that somehow stings so hard, but it does. He made her feel like she was easily discarded, and he can’t grasp it. How he came up with the idea of ending it with her, let alone doing it in such an ugly way. He must have been out of his mind. ‘Do you really believe this is what I want, Lucy? You think I planned it that way? You make me happier than I have ever been in my life, and if I thought there was any other way–’
‘Stop it, Tim, just…’ she shakes her head like she can’t stand to stick around and listen to him for even a second longer. ‘You know what? You had your chance to speak. Now it’s my turn. I’m not done yet.’ She turns away from him, putting her keys on the counter and then she takes another few seconds, like she’s reluctant to face him again. He notices her fidgeting with her hands, taking a breath before she finally turns. When she does, her hand comes up to place her ring on the kitchen island too.
Tim stares at it. She took it off. It’s next to the little monkey that serves as her keychain. She took off her moonstone ring, and it’s making his heart turn cold, like he’s freezing from within. ‘Why are you doing that?’ he asks, beyond upset. Panicking even. He can’t rationally explain what it’s doing to him to see her put that ring there like she’s leaving it behind. It terrifies him, even though it’s not even a ring he gave her.
But he did.
‘Do you think I don’t know true darkness, Tim? To the point you’re not sure you’ll ever get back from it?’ She looks at the ring, then back at him, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I was once lost, too… But you found me. And I might be mad at you right now, furious even, but let me make one thing very clear: I will never be mad enough to not come find you when you are lost.’
‘Lucy…’ He’s shaking his head, trying to piece together just what it is she’s saying. She won’t leave him. She still thinks he’s worth fighting for? ‘I can’t– I can’t let you–’
‘No, you’re not hearing me,’ she says. ‘This isn’t up to you. You didn’t leave me in my barrel. I refuse to leave you in yours.’
‘This is different. It’s my fault. All of it is my fault, and I’m not… I’m not the man you thought I was. I don’t deserve you.’
‘So, you’re not perfect. Big surprise. Don’t you think I already knew that? I know all about what a pain in the ass you can be. And maybe you’re right. You might not be as great as I think you are. But you sure as hell aren’t as bad as you think you are.’
‘He showed up at your place… I could have gotten you killed, Lucy!’
‘Because you didn’t clue me in! You always do this, Tim! We get ambushed by a mob of assailants and the one thing on your mind is getting me out and sacrificing yourself. You feel like your entire life is falling apart, and you completely shut me out for days. Now you’re deciding for me that I’m better off without you?’
‘You are!’
‘You’re the one who told me we were worth the risk!’ she says, tears almost drowning out her voice. ‘I was too scared to try, and you eased my mind. You said Unless it is and you made me believe it.’
‘I believed it!’ he says. ‘I wanted that more than anything.’
‘And now you don’t? If that’s true, Tim, then I need the real you to come out and say it. Not this scared, panicked simulation of the man I know, giving me excuses about doing what’s right for me. I need the guy that I was going to have grandkids with to come out of hiding and tell me to my face that’s not what he wants anymore.’
And then he just… sort of breaks down. There’s a sound he makes, a stupid, pitiful wail that he’d feel embarrassed for if he’d still had any dignity left. Which he doesn’t, because he’s stuck between wanting to drop to his knees and beg Lucy to take him back, and getting as far away from her as he possibly can to stop himself from doing just that.
‘I love you…’ he says. The words come out all twisted and rough. He never knew something that’s supposed to be nothing but good and beautiful could sound like this. Ugly. But it’s fitting, because that’s exactly what his love is. ‘And I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you. I shouldn’t have let myself… I’m so sorry…’
‘Tim…’ She steps closer, and he tries to back away, but he’s nauseous and shaking and he thinks maybe he doesn’t really want to avoid her at all. Suddenly she’s there, and she grabs his hand. His legs feel like they’re about to give out. ‘That’s the best thing that ever happened to me.’
‘How can you say that? How can you even stand to look at me?’ he asks her and for the life of him he can’t understand how she even manages to smile as she speaks.
‘Don’t you know? It’s the easiest thing. I have always seen all of you. I know you, Tim. And nothing will ever make me look at you differently. You don’t always have to be strong. You don’t have to hide from me. You need to stop pretending you’re fine when you’re not. You need to let me in. I know you feel like running. And you can run from me, but you can’t keep running from yourself. You need to make a decision.’ She tightens her hold on him, pressing something against the upturned palm of his hand. ‘What’s more important to you? Loving me? Or hating yourself?’
It's the feeling of the rounded shape of Lucy’s ring, the cool moonstone digging in his hand, that makes him realize how tightly he’s holding onto her now. His fingers closing all the way over her wrist.
‘If you need help, we’re getting you help,’ she says. He’s hunched over so far he can feel her words against his face. ‘If you need space, take all you need. But you’re not going through this alone. Hold onto this…’ She tries to close his hand around the ring and pull back her fingers, but he won’t let go of them. He’s swallowing her hand in his and he’s pulling, even when he knows he shouldn’t. He should let go. Right?
‘It’s a reminder,’ she says, putting her other hand on his chest, over his pounding heart, trying to keep herself from being crushed against him. ‘So you’ll know I won’t leave you in your barrel. Even if it’s one of your own making. Even if you are choosing to hide in there. I will always come to look for you, Tim. When you are lost, I will find you. Just like you found me.’
‘Loving you…’ he whispers, knowing he’s probably not making any sense, but he needs to tell her. He needs her to know. ‘Is what’s most important. It’s all that matters to me.’ He grabs her face, her own hand still firmly locked in his, her arm folded between them as he presses his knuckles against her cheek. ‘You are all that matters to me.’
Her other hand comes up around his neck, and he clings to her, wraps himself around her as he starts crying like a child.
‘I’m so sorry…’
‘It’s okay,’ she says, her lips brushing his ear as he bends further down, collapsing in her embrace, his face tucked into the curve of her neck. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles. ‘You’re okay. You’ll be fine. I promise…’
He keeps saying it. Over and over. Soaking her with his tears. ‘I’m sorry… Lucy… I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Please don’t leave. I need you.’
He feels like she’s keeping him upright by herself entirely. Bearing his entire weight for a few seconds, before she can’t hold it any longer and eases them down. He folds all over her, on top of her, on the kitchen floor, curling into her as tears keep pouring down his face.
‘Tim…’ Her voice breaks.
‘I’m sorry…’ he goes again, like a broken record. Because he has made her cry, and now he’s doing it again. He's dwarfing her with his body, but he can still feel her strength. The grip she has on him is tight and secure and it’s like she will never let go of him, ever again. He never doubted it. Her. But still, he underestimated her. And if she weren’t the person she was, he would have lost her over it. His own insecurities. ‘I’m an idiot.’
‘You are,’ she agrees, her lips pressed against the back of his neck. ‘But I love you anyway.’
‘I don’t know why you do… I don’t know how to fix things, how to make it right.’
‘We’re not broken.’
‘But I hurt you. I walked out…’
‘Don’t do that again,’ she simply says. He sits up and gathers his strength to look at her, the guilt and shame eating away at him when his eyes meet hers. There’s no resentment there. But his heart breaks seeing what he did to her. Her lashes are clumped together, and there are strands of hair sticking to her face. He brushes them away.
‘I won’t. I promise.’ You deserve better. It’s still all he can think, looking at her. She’s everything. He’s a mess.
She smiles. He holds her face between his hands, brushing a fresh stream of tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He bends down, pressing soft kisses all over her cheeks. ‘I will be better,’ he says and he kisses her forehead, erasing that last one, saying what he should have said in the first place. ‘I’ll be better for you.’
He’s not sure yet how. But he will do whatever it takes. He’ll do all the work he needs to do to be worthy of her. He holds out his hands, pulling Lucy to her feet as he stands up. She hugs him, pressing her entire body against his. ‘I don’t need you to be better. I love you completely, just the way you are. I just need you to heal, so you can let me.’
‘I want that,’ he says, breathing her in. God, he missed this. He missed her. ‘Stay?’ His voice is fragile when he asks her. He doesn’t think he has ever heard himself sound like this.
She takes a step back, her arms coming down from around his neck.
‘You don’t have to,’ he says, realizing it might be too much to ask after pushing her away for days. ‘But if you want to, I would really, really–’
‘I want to, Tim. But only if you’ll agree to hold onto this for me for a while.’ She’s still holding the ring and tosses it up for him to catch it. He does, weighing it in the palm of hand. It led him to her. He carried it around for weeks before he returned it, feeling oddly reassured every time he reached for it in his pocket.
‘I can do that,’ he replies, looking from the ring to her. This amazing, wonderful woman who is somehow willing to move heaven and earth for him. ‘Thank you.’ The words are totally inadequate, but it’s all he can think of to say. ‘I don’t even know how to–’
‘Welcome back,’ she says, her voice sweet and quiet. ‘I told you I’d find you…’
He nods, still running his thumb along the smooth surface of the stone as he tucks the ring safely away in his pocket. He’s wrecked, and he’s pretty sure she is too, but he knows they’re both too wired to sleep. ‘So… are you… like… hungry? I can make us something to eat. Or order in.’
She shakes her head. ‘Not that hungry.’
‘No, me neither.’ He pauses again, not really knowing what to do with himself. ‘So… a drink maybe? Some tea and a movie?’
‘Sounds nice,’ she drawls. ‘But no…’
‘Lucy, if you’d rather go home, I understand,’ he says, and he blames the pure exhaustion from these past few dreadful days for not catching on to the playful upturn of her lips right away.
‘I’m with you, I am home,’ she says. ‘I just don’t think we need food, or drinks or movies right now. But there might be something else we both really, really need.’
‘What’s that?’ he asks, finally catching on but careful to assume anything.
She shrugs. ‘A shower?’
And he might be exhausted, but he will never be tired enough to turn down an offer like that. He inches closer, as she moves backwards in the direction of the bathroom. Then he reaches for her, and hauls her up, carrying her the rest of the way. He might not have the words yet to express how sorry he is. But he can start by showing it.