Limelight Love Story

11. Screw Basic Biology

Tim tossed and turned all night. He barely slept.

Neither did Lucy as she tried to shuffle and shimmy around on her bed at her own home. She kept looking over at her bedroom door and wishing Tim were on the other side of it, or better yet, beside her in bed. They had spent a few nights sleeping next to each other, and she had to admit she missed it. But then, she remembered how he said she was not his wife. It was TECHNICALLY true, but as she played with her wedding band, she distantly considered returning to the home they shared and telling Tim he was wrong, but Lucy stayed in her bed all night. Awake, but in her own bed.

Without hockey, he had absolutely nothing to do all day. Sure, Tim could have watched old game footage and weight lifted, but all that was occupying his mind was Lucy. Daily, they had been doing his exercises to rehabilitate his ankle sprain at the same time, and she said she would continue to help him despite his mistake, but he doubted that she would actually show up. Everyone abandoned him at one point or another. He had pushed her far enough, understandably so, and she was going to be on the long list of people that left him lonely.

Until, Lucy came through the front door acting completely normally.

"How's your ankle today?" She asked the same way she did every morning since he got injured.

"Fine," he replied and sat up straighter on the couch.

"Great. Let's go work it out." Of course, there was some embarrassment, hurt, anger, and sadness still swirling around inside of her, but she had to focus on Tim's recovery; that superseded everything else.

As she started helping him stretch, he was quiet and totally trying to focus on the task at hand, but her eyes so obviously showed how troubled she was. "I screwed up last night."

"You did," Lucy confirmed. "Focus on holding this stretch for the full twenty seconds."

He could sense that she was trying to ignore the topic, but he wanted to broach it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said you're not my wife. That was...I'm..."

"You're a jerk," she supplied. "Okay, lay back," she directed him to proceed with his exercises.

"A jerk, yes. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have. Thirty reps. Let's start counting."

Lucy was so dedicated to his exercise regiment, but he cared more about her feelings than his ankle's rehabilitation. Tim dropped his legs and sat back up. "Hey, I'm sorry, okay? I'll do whatever it takes to make this up to you, but can you please come back home?"

"I can't."

He took one of her hands delicately. "Why not?"

"Because, it's really easy to forget our arrangement."

"We're more than some arrangement."

"Maybe, but...can we go back to your exercises?" She decided to avoid finishing her sentence.

"No, say it. Whatever you want to say, say it."

"I-," Lucy swallowed. "I thought I could be good at this...marriage. I thought it was on my exes for leaving me. I mean, I was about to marry Emmett, and he flaked, and I've been blaming him, but it's clearly me. I'm not cut out for marriage. I don't know; maybe I'm just broken or I-"

"Woah," he cut her off softly and leaned forward to bring his face closer to her. "I'm the one at fault here. You're great at being a wife. Honest. I was pissed, and I said something I shouldn't have. This is on me. I'm bad at marriage."

"No, you aren't. We're working on your book, remember?"

"Lucy," Tim settled his hand on her knee. "A good husband would've appreciated what you were trying to do for me."