Wicked

Chapter 26

Tim POV: 

I drill another nail into the wall, trying to get this damn floating shelf to stay in place. It remains hung as I remove my hand from it. I take a step back, before allowing myself to breathe. Grant and Maggie rush in the house, the door slamming behind them. The moment the door slams, the shelf falls down onto the hardwood. 

"Fuck!" I scream, causing Maggie to gasp. 

"Daddy!" She criticizes, before rushing upstairs to change out of her gymnastics uniform. Grant grabs a handful of grapes out of the bowl on the counter, tossing one in his mouth as he watches me grab the shelf off the ground. 

"Try using a stud." He suggests, as I lean my head back. 

"Grant, I tried to use a goddamn stud. The shelf is too long." I say, my frustration boiling over. He puts up his hands in innocence, before sighing. I screw in a molly bolt before screwing the shelf into it. 

"So, Faith's daughter is in Maggie's tumbling class now." He says aloud, before the shelf drops once more. 

"For fucks sake!" I shout, kicking the shelf across the floor. Grant widens his eyes, as I pant. I place my hands on my hips, before my mind starts to process what he said. "What the hell did you just say?" I question, as he pops another grape in his mouth. 

"Faith's daughter, Grace, is in Maggie's gymnastics class." He repeats, as I stare at him. "I actually talked to her." He says, as I feel my hands go numb. "She had a different account of things, to say the least." He remarks, before I grab for my glass of water. I take a sip, slowly setting down my cup. 

"What do you mean, she had a different account?" I ask as he rubs his forehead, a motion mirroring what I find myself often doing. 

"She said that she called. She said that she called more than a few times, but you ended up blocking her number. She also said that she sent you that polaroid with the note on the back but you never answered." He relays as I narrow my eyes at him. 

"Grant, I didn't block her." I let out, as he shrugs. 

"Hey baby, what was the banging about?" Kris says, walking down as Grant continues to speak. She looks down at the shelf and the holes in the wall, sighing. 

"That's just what she told me." He says, as my chest aches. "She did send you the picture though, because I mean, you had it." He adds while I shake my head. Kris looks over at him, trying to understand the conversation she's walked into. 

"No, she must've sent it to Tug." I try to explain, before he raises his eyebrows, doubting my response. "I haven't seen that picture since '96. The only time I've seen it since was when you pulled it out." I assert as he puts his hands up in surrender. I rub the back of my neck, breathing deeply as I try to make sense of it. 

"Grant, can I speak to your father in private for a minute?" Kristine pipes out, causing Grant to reluctantly stand. He heads upstairs, as Kris looks down at her feet. "Tim, I need you to take a breath before I say anything." She starts, as I sigh. 

"I'll fix the damn shelf, Kris." I reassure her as she shakes her head. 

"It's not about the shelf." she says, as I narrow my eyes at her. She rubs her palms on her sides, before looking up at me. "After you told me about the affair, I had the phone company block her number from your phone." She confesses slowly, as I feel my blood run cold. "I thought that it would make it easier on you –" She tries to justify as my jaw hangs open. 

"You blocked her number." I let out as she nods. I lean my head back, trying to breathe. "What about the picture? Was that you too?" I start, before she looks like a deer in headlights. "Goddamnit, Kris!" I shout, before covering my mouth with my hand. 

"You were going to leave! I didn't have a choice..." She starts to argue as I laugh, unable to hold it in. 

"So you went and hid this from me?" I scream. She winces, my tone catching her off guard. 

"You were going to leave, Tim!" She screams back, as I throw up my hands. 

"That wasn't your decision to make for me, Kris!" I shout, rattling the walls. I march toward my keys, grabbing them and slipping on shoes. 

"Where are you going?" She asks, as I shut my eyes. 

"I'm leaving. I can't... I can't be in this house right now." I let out, before walking out and slamming the door. 

I sit in a Walmart parking lot, my pounding head leaned back on my headrest. My phone buzzes on my lap, as I glance down to see it's not Kris, but rather Verizon. 

"Your request to remove AUDREY F. HENDRICKS from your blacklist has been approved. This may take 24 hours to go into effect." I lean my head back again, still in a state of disbelief. How did I not notice? How could I think Faith would just give up? My phone buzzes once more, causing me to wince. I know it's Kris. I lift it, before feeling my heart stop. 

19 Missed Calls, 4 Voicemails from AUDREY F. HENDRICKS. 

I stare at the prompt, before hesitantly opening my phone. I go into my voicemails, hitting the earliest one. 

"Hey, it's me. I know the last time we spoke wasn't great, but... we need to talk. Give me a call back when you can." Her voice lets out, as I shut my eyes. Hearing her voice like this makes my heart race, as if she were standing right in front of me. 

"Hey Tim... listen, I'm sorry. I should've explained myself instead of just running off at the awards, but Kris knows. I don't know how, but she does. Please give me a call." She releases, anxiety clear in her voice. 

"Tim, I need you to come pick me up..." She cries on the next message, taking my breath away. Her voice shakes, as she sniffles. "Scott... he's... he hit me and took my keys." She says, as I cover my mouth, feeling nauseated by the fact I'm just now getting this call. "Please come get me." She weeps, before a loud crash sounds on the other end of the line. She suddenly hangs up, hitting me like a bullet. 

The next message starts with her sniffling, breathing deeply into the phone. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." She releases, as I squeeze my eyes shut. "Please pick up the phone." She cries, begging before breaking down. The message ends there. I stare in disbelief, before forcing myself to breathe. I quickly dial her number, hearing it ring once. 

"Hello – the number you are calling is no longer in service or has been disconnected." An automated voice says, before I punch the steering wheel. I throw the phone on my passenger seat, feeling nauseous. I rest my head on the wheel, taking a deep breath as I try to calm my crowded mind. I feel myself shake, before I grab my phone once more. 

"Hello?" Byron lets out after two rings. 

"Hey, I need Faith's number." I say, hearing silence on the other end. "You there?" I ask, before he sighs over the phone. 

"Are you and Kris having issues?" He questions, before I lean back in my seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

"Byron, I need her number." I assert. 

"Fine, I'll text it over to you. But if you and Kris are having prob–" He starts before I hang up. My phone vibrates a few seconds later. 

Here's her number. Don't break her heart again. – Byron