Can we save us?

"Leave, Lindsey."

"Absolutely not."

"I said go!"

She knelt in the bathroom, blood dripping from her nose. She grabbed a damp wash cloth from the sink and dabbed at her nose and lip, willing herself to keep it together. She hadn't done much cocaine lately, but she had been warned that it wouldn't take much to kill her. The nosebleeds had become pretty frequent.

"Jesus, Stevie, come here." He took a step toward her, not really sure what he would actually do if she listened. He had no idea what she'd taken, but he knew that whatever it was it had been mixed with the empty bottle of wine on the counter. There were crimson stains on her white dress, and her skin was impossibly pale.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" She screamed and pulled herself to her feet using the bathroom counter. She kicked off her shoes and turned her back to him. "I mean it, Lindsey."

He set a change of clothes on the toilet and reluctantly stepped out of the bathroom. Leaving, however, was not an option. He sat on the floor outside the door and listened intently. He heard her turn the shower on, then waited for any sign she needed to help. All he could hear were muffled sobs and running water, and his heart ached. Losing her wasn't something he ever wanted to imagine, but lately it seemed entirely too possible.

Finally, the water stopped. Crashes echoed in the large bathroom as she readied herself. The door eventually opened, and she emerged in a pair of sweatpants and oversized Tom Petty shirt. He stood, and she walked by him, pulling a brush through her wet hair.

"I told you to leave, Lindsey."

"Not happening."

"I'm not a child."

"No, you're 38 years old and I just watched you collapse and bleed on a bathroom floor. You're scaring the shit out of me, Stevie."

"I'm fine, Lindsey."

"You aren't fine."

"I'm... I'm fine," she repeated, letting herself fall into the chair, immediately closing her eyes. "I want to go to sleep."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"A couple days ago, probably," she admitted. Her eyes opened and locked on his. "Lindsey, I know you're worried. I know where I stand right now, okay? I'm going to quit. Just let me do this."

He knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees. "I will not lose you."

"Why are you being so nice to me? You're never this nice to me anymore," she said, her hand tangling in his hair. "I like it," she said, her voice playful and giggly. The moment of clarity was over. Her words had started to slur and her eyes closed, then her body went limp as she finally crashed. Her breath became heavy and even, and he watched her for a minute to make sure she was okay.

He stood and lifted her into his arms, laying her gently on the bed. She didn't even flinch. He crawled in beside her and watched her sleep for a while, running his fingers up and down her arm. In sleep, she almost looked like his Stevie. He laid beside her for what must have been hours before he managed to fall asleep.

Finally, sometime well into the next day, she stirred. He woke up instantly, forgetting for a second where he was. She looked at him and frowned, wincing a little as she put her hand on her head.

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

"What can I get you?"

"Water." He got up and poured a glass from the pitcher on the coffee table, handing it to her slowly. She took it and held it to her mouth with both hands, then handed it back to him when she finished.

He sat next to her and rested a hand on her knee, waiting for her to say something. Nothing came out. She fell backward onto the pillow and covered her face with her hands.

"Why are you still here?" She asked, not bothering to look at him.

"Because I'm worried about you."

"I told you I'm fine and I can handle it."

"I know you can. But you don't have to."

She finally looked at him and narrowed her eyes, searching his face. Deciding that he was being genuine, she sat up again, folding her legs up under her. "You're the only one who hasn't left me."

"And I won't."

"I don't know why you still love me."

"It doesn't matter why," he said, touching her cheek and studying her face. She was too pale, and dark circles hung below her eyes. Her eyes were empty and glassy.

"I wish you wouldn't stare at me like that," she said, pulling his hand from her face and looking down at her lap.

"I wish you weren't such a pain in the ass," he joked, tackling her playfully. He pinned her down, straddling her thighs.

"Lindsey! Stop it! Get off me!" She wiggled beneath him, laughing while she half-heartedly fought him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, neck and shoulder, and she calmed down immediately. He touched her face again, brushing her bangs back. "I love you, Lindsey. More than anything. I'm sorry I fuck everything up."

"I've done my part to fuck this up, too," he said, laying beside her. "You're still the only one I want."

"Can we fix us?"

"I want to try... if you do."

"You don't want me right now."

"I have never not wanted you."

"I mean it. I'm a mess right now."

"Let me do this with you. Please."

"I can't give you enough right now."

"I don't care. Stevie, you're all I want. We're almost 40. Let's do this."

"Do what?"

"Marry me. Now. We can get you through this together. Then we'll buy a house, take some time off..." he trailed off as she shook her head, staring down at the blankets. "Why not?"

"I can't."

"You can't be my wife?"

"Not now. I can't be enough for you. We both know that it won't solve anything, Lindsey."

"If you love me half as much as I love you, then you know we'll be enough for each other."

"I wish it were that easy."

"Why isn't it?"

"God, Lindsey, look at me! I can't have babies and play house right now. That's what you want. You deserve it. I can't be that for you. No matter how much I want to." He looked like someone had punched him. She threw her arm over his waist and curled up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, still completely silent. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said, mumbling into his chest. "Say something. Please."

"I don't know what to say, Stevie. I think I should go." He sat up, and she sat up, looking at him with a scared expression on her face.

"Please don't," she said, grabbing one of his hands in both of hers.

"I have to. I'll call you later to check on you." He stood and started gathering his things, leaving her on the bed. She watched him, her heart pounding in her throat as she choked back sobs, wondering what she had just done.

"Lindsey..."

"Take care of yourself, Stevie."

She couldn't speak. He walked out of her room, looking wounded, and she hated herself for hurting him. Maybe someday they'd get it together. She listened to him start the car and drive away, wishing more than anything that he hadn't left.

She laid down again, trying to convince herself that she'd done the right thing. Somehow, though, she couldn't make herself believe it.