Cowboy Casanova

Chapter 50

FAITH POV: I hear Tim... I hear him praying beside me. Unusual, to say the least. The last time I heard him pray was when his father was sick... 

His father... Tug... How do I even remember that? I think for a moment. Did they fix my memory? Is that what this is all about? Was Tim worried I'd be mad at him? Things begin to make sense in my head. 

I open my eyes slowly, and can't help but have a smile painted on my face. I touch Tim's arm, which is holding his head upon the bed. He seems to be drifting off... He looks up at me, and puts on a smile. 

"I remember..." I say, my voice sounding like a raspy and weak whisper. He nods. "Tug... and the day we met... everything. I remember." I smile with pride. He redraws his sad smile to show his proudness. 

"That's great, baby." He says softly to me, still sounding reserved. 

"What's wrong?" I ask again. He shakes his head. 

"Nothin' baby." He says, exhaling and accidentally letting a tear fall. He's quick to correct his mistake, wiping it away quickly. 

"Where are the kids?" I ask. He takes a deep breath. 

"They went home to get showers and clothes. They'll be back soon." He says. I nod and helplessly smile. My babies... 

"Is Mom still here?" I ask. He nods. 

"She's down getting coffee." He says, smiling at me. His hand wraps around mine, and gives it a squeeze. My head aches, but I won't tell him, because the doctors will give me painkillers to dim the pain. I don't want to be drugged now... 

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" I say, smiling at his pride. He fails to smile this time. "I won't be mad at you. I knew what you had to do and I'm happy you did it." I say, patting his forearm. 

"What?" He asks quietly. 

"I had surgery for my memory, right?" I ask. He shakes his head, letting another tear out. "Then what was the surgery for?" I say, now thinking over other possibilities. He shakes his head another time. 

"I can't..." He answers again. I begin to feel angry. 

"I deserve to know, Tim. This is my body..." I say, he nods, shrugging his shoulders. "I can't believe you'd have the nerve to-" I begin to curse him out. 

"Faith, you're sick." He says. I'm taken aback. 

"What?" 

"You're very sick. We don't know what's going on..." He says, sounding weak once again. 

"What do you mean you don't know..." 

"You had cancer. Very severe, advanced cancer. And through surgery and treatment, we managed to fix it. Now, it's... I don't even know how to describe it... The medicine was overactive. It's now hurting your brain. I mean, the cancer is gone now, but some of the medicine is still in your tissue and blood and it's trying to kill your brain." He says, stuttering many times. He seems frantic and helpless. My chest feels tight as his hopelessness shocks me. 

"Why didn't I know I had cancer?" 

"It developed so quickly, it put you in a comatose state. What we first thought was an aneurysm was actually cancer beginning to take over your brain. Once he took out the tumor, your memory was no longer suppressed, so you can remember things now. We had to use a clinical trial drug, because nothing else was working... and now it's biting us in the ass." He says, sounding tense. I squeeze his hand, and am met with a brief smile, before he begins to crumble. He puts his head down on our hands and begins to sob. 

"Its okay, baby." I say, running my fingers through his hair. He props his head upon his fist and looks at me. 

"That's supposed to be my line." He laughs. I wipe his tears and smile. 

"Well, I think it's about time we've had a change in roles." I say. Part of me is relieved. Now I know... But another part of me is horrified along with Tim. "Has Kendricks come up with any ideas?" I ask. Tim nods. 

"An anti-drug. It essentially makes this medicine not work anymore." He says. 

"That sounds like it should work." I say. Tim shakes his head. 

"You'd be almost guaranteed Altzimers at a young age. There's also a million other risks." He says. 

"Like what?" 

"You could end up vegetative, or bedridden." He says. I begin to think about my choices. "We're just seeing what else we can do." He adds. I nod. 

"If being alive meant having to live like a vegetable... I'd do it, Tim." I say honestly. He nods. 

"I know you would." He says. "I just don't want to find out shortly after that we could've fixed this without the consequences." He sighs. A frown takes over his face. He crawls into bed next to me, and lays his head on my chest. I put my arms around him and rub his back. "I would too." He utters in the brief silence. 

"You would what?" I ask. 

"Stay. If it meant being paralyzed and mute... so be it. As long as I can see the girls smile. Just to see the girls or hear them or feel them... I would stay." He says. I nod and run my fingers through his hair. 

"Me too." I admit. He looks up at me. 

"I can't lose you..." He says. I smile a little bit before reassuring him. 

"You can't lose me."