Pillow Talk

Chapter 8

The sensation of fingers gliding across his face, caused Nixon to twitch as he stirred from his sleep. He batted his eyes, struggling to adjust to the light in his room after it had been immersed in complete darkness for days.

He squinted at the person sitting on the edge of his bed and immediately sat up in recognition. His eyes were tired and red, his hair was overgrown and unruly and a beard masked his sharp features.

Nixon's throat felt dry, his mind racing to find the right words. "Hey.", was all he could muster, it came out broken.

"Hi.", she whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, those eyes that he'd fallen in love with.

"What are you doing here?", Nixon threw the comforter off and swung his legs onto the floor. She stood up, taking a few steps back.

He'd wanted to see her since he'd gotten back but he just couldn't find the courage to face her.

She ran a hand through her blonde hair and Nixon took in how pale and tired she looked. It twisted his heart knowing that he was somewhat responsible for that.

The woman's eyes drifted to the nightstand beside Nixon's bed, he followed her gaze, taking in the various bottles on it. Some pills laid strewn around them.

Nixon closed his eyes briefly in shame. He never wanted her to see him like this. She didn't need to deal with this, not when she had so much to handle herself.

He stood up and stepped in front of it, as if blocking it would make her forget that she'd ever seen it. He reached out to touch her, hurt seeping in when she all but flinched away from him.

"Don't.", she sounded close to crying.

Moving across the room to give her the space she wanted, Nixon stopped at his old work desk, leaning against it.

"Ava I-"

"I'm leaving.", she interrupted him.

Blue eyes widened in shock at her declaration.

He immediately walked up to stand in front of her, "What?", he sputtered out in disbelief.

Ava avoided eye contact, choosing instead to look at the old posters on the wall, "I'm going back to Connecticut with my mom Nixon."

Nixon felt his heart sink as the words registered in his muddled up mind. She was leaving Chicago, leaving him.

"Wha-what a-about us?", his voice was weak.

Finally looking directly at him, he saw the tears running down her face, "There is no us, not anymore."

Fighting his urge to collapse to the floor, Nixon reached for her, cupping her face between his hands, "Why?", tears gathered in his eyes too.

A sob escaped Ava's mouth, her body shaking uncontrollably, "You were supposed to protect him, protect us both.", she cried, "But you let him die. You let him die Nixon!"

Pulling his hands away like he'd been burnt, Nixon stood in shock, struggling to comprehend what she was saying. She blamed him.

He watched helplessly as the woman he loved shattered his heart into pieces. Her sniffles were loud, her hands clutched at her chest.

"He was all we had Nixon and now his gone."

Nixon was crying by now, "You still have me bambina.", he gestured to himself, "What about all the plans we've made? For the future? Do we just throw all of it away?", his voice was hoarse.