Speak To a Girl

Chapter 11

Faith POV: 

I watch the situation change, so now Tim and I are standing in a hospital room, watching he and I. I'm clinging to his hand while he lays in the hospital bed, the doctor walking over to unplug life support. He's motionless, except for the slow, artificial rise and fall of his chest. I watch the heart monitor, praying that he'll wake up by some miracle. The doctor places his hand on the switch, making me tense. 

As if by some magical force, Tim eyes flutter open. I look over at My-Tim and watch his stare. He seems distraught, as if he's already watched this a million times. I watch myself begin crying from relief, letting out these awful cries that I never knew I could make. Betty holds me as I cling to my chest, one hand still resting over his. 

But within a few moments, things begin to go wrong. His heart rate spikes, as he grows tense. He looks at me with a panicked expression. Before long, Betty and I are ushered out of the room... 

I look over at Tim, watch him walk away and down the hall. The hall slowly shifts from a hospital hallway, to one that is carpeted and homey. I follow him, until we a door at the end of the hall. He pushes it open, revealing he and I sitting in bed, me sitting up writing, while he lies on his side, facing away. We don't speak, or even touch. 

That's when a little girl comes burst in, causing Tim to sit up in bed. He lifts her up into bed with them, giving her kisses as she giggles. She can't be older that four. I put down the pad of paper on the nightstand, curling up with her, while Tim starts to tickle her. 

The light begins to change in the room, now appearing to be day. I'm tossing clothes in a duffle bag, while Tim sits on the edge of the bed, appearing to be upset and infuriated. I slam the dresser drawer full of my tank tops shut, adding some attitude so he knows I'm frustrated. He tosses his head back, making me pipe out. 

"What?" I release, sounding pissed. He throws up his hands while looking at me. 

"What the fuck do you want me to do?" He breaks out. I roll my eyes and sigh, shaking my head at him. "No, don't sit there and patronize me. Tell me what the hell you want me to do. Because I'm sitting here with my goddamn hands tied and all you're doing is huffing and puffing and pulling up arguments from all over the place." He rambles, as I shake my head, storming off to the closet. He stands and follows me. 

"Just... stop." I let out, clearly having had enough. I'm not teary eyed, but rather breaking out in hives I'm so angry with him. 

"No, tell me. Let it out on me, babe. We both know this isn't about the little things your picking out... we both know." He says, as I grab a pair of jeans and charge out past him. I forcefully shove the jeans in the mostly empty bag. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" I question, sounding hypercritical. 

"You say you're done with me drinking, I said I'd quit drinking. You want me to start taking Sam to school, I said I'll take Sam to school. You want me to stop working so much, I said I'd take some time off.... But that's not the problem, is it?" He rambles, making me tense. I cross my arms in front of me, as he seems to be reaching out to a brick wall. 

"I don't understand what you're getting at." I spit out, very closed off. 

"Stop." He says, firmly. I shrug, as if I didn't understand what he was referring to. "Stop this bullshit. Talk to me." He demands. I simply stare back at him, a frown pressed on my face. I stay silent. "For fucks sake, Audrey!" He shouts, making me unleash. 

"I don't know what the hell you want me to say!" I shout back. 

"Tell me that you don't love me anymore." He releases, silencing me immediately. I stare at him, trying to think of something to say in response, but nothing comes to mind. "You don't look at me the way you used to... We're arguing over every little thing. You... You've been coming home later, and heading to LA all the time..." He rambles, his voice breaking a bit. "I just... I don't want to play this game... where we play pretend and lie to each other and ourselves. If there's someone in LA, or..." He stops himself, and looks away to try and catch his breath.