Storyteller

Chapter 8

Faith POV:

The doctor keeps asking me all these questions that I honestly don't know the answer to. He thinks I'm trying to be difficult, but I don't know what else he wants me to do. I'm alone in a room full of strangers, and being asked questions that make no logical sense.

Tug kneels down beside the bed, the other people, including the doctor, leaving the room in a flood. I watch them leave curiously, as Tug holds tightly to my hand, and brushes over my knuckles like Tim often does.

He slips a chunky, worn silver ring on my finger. I smile, as the blue stone shines in a familiar way. This is Tim's old class ring. He gave it to me the day after graduation when he proposed. He promised that he'd get a better ring, of which he did. I personally always preferred his worn, 1985 class ring.

"Faith, what's the very last thing you remember?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at me. I shrug, and look around the room.

"Tim was..." I stop as I remember that memory. A slight frown forms on my face. I'm not sure I want to talk to Tug about this... "We were arguing. Tim stormed out, and I guess drove around for a while." I state vaguely, picking at my nails.

"What were you arguing about?" He asks, making me nauseous. I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it. "You have to tell me, honey." He starts to convince me. I stare at him, before letting it out.

"I miscarried. He didn't want to try again, and I did, and he just got angry with me like I've never seen before." I release, watching him cringe. He nods, and bites his lip.

"I remember that." He whispers, looking down at the bed. He continues to squeeze my hand as I try to figure out how much I'm forgetting. I can't be that far behind... Tug looks exactly the same.

"Did Tim tell you?" I ask him. He cringes again, and shakes his head. "Then how'd you figure out?"

"I was there, sweetheart." He says, making me confused. "Faith, that happened about fourteen years ago." He whispers, feeling as if I've been shot in the chest. Tears form in my eyes as I quickly shake my head.

"No, it hasn't... It just happened, I swear." I start to spit out, sounding insane. I know he's right... I know it didn't just happen.

"Tug died three years ago." He says, causing me to freeze. I stare at him, as his moist eyes watch me carefully. He places his hand near my shoulder, before I pull it away from him. I shake my head quickly, and stare.

"Who are you..." I start softly. He looks around the room, before looking back at me. His eyes study my face as panic surmounts in me. "Who are you?" I start to cry out.

"It's me, honey..." He says, making me feel sick.

"No... No it's not." I try to remove my hand from his, but his grip is too strong. "I want to talk to Tim..." I cry, tears starting to blind me.

"I am Tim, baby." I can see this is killing him, but I don't believe him. That's not Tim... That can't be.

"Then what's our song?" I quiz. He shrugs.

"Which one?" He asks, sounding as if he were desperate.

"Our song..." I fail to clarify. I'm not going to hand him the answer. He stays silent for a moment, proving my point.

"Timing Is Everything was our song, but since we wrote that one, our real radio dancing song was I'm Gonna Be." He answers correctly, to my surprise. Tears are in his eyes, as he watches me try to understand all of this. This is killing him. That's when he completely crumbles, and begins to sob beside me. It's actually starting to scare me. "I'm sorry, honey." He apologizes, wiping his eyes.

"What have I missed?" I ask, not prepared to hear it. He bites his lip and frowns.

"Three beautiful baby girls, a record-breaking music career, strong marriage..." He stops, and stares down at my hand. "And now I'm a drunk... I drink a lot, and sometimes it hurts you." He releases, making my chest tight. He looks old, and worn.

"Are you trying to get sober?" I ask, to be met with a firm yes. He nods and looks up into my eyes.

"I've been trying like crazy honey. It's just... It's hard." He looks weak. It's something I've never seen in him before, and it horrifies me.

Someone knocks on the window beside the door, motioning something to Tim, as if to tell him to hurry it up. Tim squeezes my hand tightly, before kissing it, and rubbing over the sight where his lips touched. I watch him smile up at me, as if it were going to be the last time.

"You're going to stay with your manager for a while now, Honey." He says, tears in the corners of his eyes. The idea confuses me. Why would I stay with someone who I have no recollection of, when I could stay with someone who loves me, and has always had my best interest in mind.

"No. I want to stay with you." I pout, sounding like a child. He swallows hard and shakes his head slowly, a tear slipping.

"I'm sorry honey, but that's just how it has to be for right now." He releases, shutting his eyes tightly. He opens them slowly, and forces a smile. "That doesn't mean you can't see me. You just call, and I'll be right there, alright?" He rubs between my eyebrows, making my eyes heavy. He's never done that unless we were curled up together. It feels wrong feeling the sensation when he's not in bed beside me.

"You said we have three girls?" I ask quickly. He takes a deep breath, before nodding. "What are their names?"

"Gracie, Maggie, and Audrey." He answers, helplessly smiling a bit. "They look just like you." He smiles harder. I feel kind of winded at the idea that I have three kids suddenly out of nowhere.

The man knocks on the window, disrupting our moment again. My heart starts to pound as Tim gets on his feet, and lets go of my hand.

"I gotta go now." He says, sounding as if he dropping me off halfway around the world.

"I love you!" I shout as he starts toward the door. He turns, a sort of disappointed look emerging in his eyes. He then walks out without another word.