"I'm on the way," she said softly, trying not to sound annoyed. "It's pretty bad out here. I can barely see a foot ahead of me." Phyllis pulled the phone away from her face, and sighed. It would be different if she believed the calls came from a place of genuine concern, but she couldn't help but feel a bit smothered, as if each call was yet another reminder of how little Jack trusted her.
It hadn't been easy—the process of forgiveness, and some days, she wondered if it was even a reality at all. She'd told Jack everything, the truth about the affair, about her feelings for Billy, about how alone she'd felt for so long. She was certain it was over, especially after he stormed out the way he did, and then somehow he'd come back. He loved her and that simple fact was enough to make him try…on one condition.
"Can you promise me that?" Jack stared at her. He loved her. He was certain of that. Even in the midst of all the pain, all the betrayal, all the anger—he'd never doubted how much he loved her. But was it enough? Could loving her be enough to make him forgive what she'd done—or perhaps more importantly, allow him to forget it—even if just for a moment.
"Jack, I.." What he was asking, how could she promise a thing like that? "He works in the same building. We're going to run into each other. It's bound to happen."
Jack shook his head. "I'm already taking care of that."
"If this is about punishing me by trying to push me about of Jabot, Jack…"
He held up his hand to stop her tirade. "I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about him."
"Billy?" She saw the look of disgust flash across his face at the simple mention of his name. Billy was his brother and she hated knowing he felt so much hostility towards a member of his own family.
Jack looked away from her for a moment. He hated the sound of his name, especially hearing it from her lips. Every time she uttered the word, his mind now immediately envisioned all the other times she'd probably called out his name. It made him sick inside.
"The whole lot of them," he hissed, pure venom seeming to drip from his voice. "Brash and Sassy should have never been in our building. It didn't make sense from the start. They'll be out by the end of the month." He paused, studying her eyes for a response, wondering if he'd be able to see if she was truly over her feelings as she claimed. He didn't trust himself anymore. His instincts had failed him. This affair had gone on for months, right under his nose and he'd had no idea. Hell, he'd practically encouraged their relationship. How stupid was he?
"Jack." She hesitated. Sticking up for Billy was, by all accounts, ill advised, but she didn't want Jack taking out his anger on everyone else. It wasn't fair. This wasn't who he was. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
"You know what..maybe this is a mistake?" The anger that bubbled just under the surface now peered out from under the calm exterior. "If you're so damn concerned about Billy and his company, maybe you should.."
"Damn it, Jack! That's not what this is! This isn't about Billy. This isn't about me and Billy! That's what I'm trying to tell you!"
He took a breath, steadying himself, the calm, cool exterior returning. "I'm not arguing with you about this," he said simply. He forced himself to breathe again—in and out—slow and steady. He'd been angry and sad and embarrassed and now he was in an entirely different place. To walk away from this with even a shred of his dignity intact, he had to find some way to regain control and this was it. This was how he took his life back.
"If this even has a chance to work, you can't see him—not at work, not anywhere." His eyes fell heavy on hers. "You said this is what you wanted. You said our marriage was the most important thing to you. You said you'd do anything to fix this. If that's true, this is what I want."
"Alright." She forced a smile as she looked at him. "If that's what you want. If that's what it takes to make this work, I'll do it. I won't see Billy..ever..I promise."
She did want to fix things with Jack. That hadn't been a lie. She loved him, but it was different now. Jack was a part of her life that she'd always treasure, but her feelings for him were more nostalgic fondness and less passionate desire. Try as she might, she couldn't recapture that spark—the one that had once burned so brightly between them.
Every night as she lay down beside him, she'd tried to leave behind her expectations. She wanted so much to be comforted by the knowledge that he loved her. She knew it. She believed it, but it just wasn't enough. She needed more. Lately, she'd found herself doing the one thing she'd promised herself she'd never do. Each time he reached out to touch her, to hold her, her mind had drifted back to the moments she'd spent with Billy. Guilt nearly consumed her. Sometimes she thought she felt worse now than she ever had when they were lying and sneaking around. Now she was doing the same thing—only now she was also lying to herself.
Phyllis sighed as she put gentle pressure on the brake, the car nearly slowing to a stop on the familiar stretch of road. The rain poured down in sheets, the wind blowing so hard that the car seemed to move back and forth of its own accord. She could see the light in the living room, the billow of smoke wafting from the chimney as it almost instantly turned to steam as it met the cool air. There was something strangely comforting about knowing he was there. In her mind, she could picture him padding around inside with the music softly playing, his hand wrapped around a glass of scotch. What she wouldn't give to be beside him.
Headlights blinked ahead and she rushed to grip the wheel. It was foolish to stall in weather like this, no matter how good the dream might be. She heard the tires spin as she accelerated, the headlights getting brighter as they approached. The car moved faster now as she struggled to stay in her lane, the power of the wind making it a nearly impossible task.
Sounds seemed to assault her from all directions. She heard the wailing of the horn, the squeal of the tires, the howling of the wind, the sound of the rain pelting against the windshield, and then—the swift, powerful impact of the car as it plowed into the tree.
Billy stood up quickly, sitting his glass on the table in front of him as he stepped quickly to the window. The power had been flickering on and off for the past hour, an ominous reminder of the storm raging outside.
He peered into the darkness, half expecting to see the hundred year old oak blocking his drive. Instead, it still stood there only he could see a light and, what appeared to be, a bit of smoke. Cupping his hand to block the glare, he tried to look more carefully, but the blinding rain made it impossible to be certain of anything. His eyes fell on the door, his logical, rational side demanding him to stay in his warm, dry house, but somehow feeling strangely compelled to go out.
Logic had never been his thing.
The rain stung at his face as he struggled to see far enough in front of him to walk. The closer he got to the road, the more certain he was that someone or something was in fact there.
"Hello?" He called out, all the while knowing his voice was lost in the howling wind and rain. Finally he was close enough to see the car, his heart beating faster as he began to worry about the person that could be inside.
"Hey. Hey." He knocked on the driver's side window, the street lights providing little help. The front end of the car had slammed into the old oak, jamming the dashboard back, and making it impossible to get the door to open.
A sharp bolt of lightning flashed, providing just enough momentary light for him to see movement inside. His breath caught in his throat as her head turned towards him.
"Phyllis." The name fell from his lips in little more than a whisper as his fists began to immediately pummel the window.
"Phyllis! Phyllis! Look at me!" The storm no longer mattered. He no longer heard the wind or felt the rain beating down on him. The only thing that mattered was her. Quickly, he ran around the back of the car, scrambling towards the passenger side.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he saw the rear passenger door was undamaged. Within seconds, he was in the backseat, his hands scrambling to determine how best to free her.
"Phyllis," he repeated, now getting more frantic. Why wasn't she responding? From what he could see she was ok. Granted it was dark, but he couldn't see any obvious head injuries. He saw no blood. His hand touched her face gently, his eyes closing in silent prayer.
The soft cry of pain was like music to his ears. Even though he hated knowing she was suffering on any level, he was so grateful to know she was still with him—she was ok. "It's ok," he whispered softly, his words an attempt to comfort himself as much as her. "I'm gonna get you out of here."
Phyllis' eyes fluttered open and her lips curved into a weak smile as the blurry face in front of her became more clear. "Billy," she whispered, "You're here."
He smiled back at her despite the situation. It had been far too long since he'd seen that smile. "Of course I'm here. I'm right here and I'm gonna help you." He looked down at her, her beauty still taking his breath away. "Are you able to hurt? Can you open your door?"
"I'm ok. I think." She shifted slowly, trying to determine the best way to extract herself from the jumbled mess of metal. She drew her legs up, hissing sharply as pain ripped through her body.
"What?" His hands were on her again almost instantly. "What is it? What's the matter?"
"My leg or my knee.." The pain was so intense she wasn't sure of its origin. All she knew was it was unlike anything she'd ever felt. "It's wedged under the dash," she managed, still breathless. "I can't..I can't move it."
Billy leaned forward, his eyes focused on her right leg. He couldn't see much, but he could tell the dashboard was pushed down tight against it. It was too dark to see if there was blood, but judging by the pain in her voice, he could only imagine the worst.
"Billy," she breathed, her voice now shaking as she spoke. "I can't get out of here. You need to call someone. We need help. My phone..." She moved her head towards the passenger seat. "I think it fell somewhere over there. Do you see it anywhere?"
His eyes searched the dark space, unable to detect anything. "It's too dark," he sighed in frustration. "I can't see anything."
He heard her shaky sigh in response and it shocked him back to reality. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's all going to be okay." It had to be. She had to be ok. "The seat…Can you lean back the seat?"
"I don't know," she breathed. "I'll try."
Billy watched as the seat slowly reclined, her gasp of pain causing him to wince as well.
She fought back tears as the pain in her leg seemed to sear through her entire body. The feel of his warm hands on her face provided some comfort as she lay there.
He drew in a breath as he stared down at her, hating the idea of what he was about to do. His eyes locked with hers as he spoke. "Alright, I'm going to have to try to pull you back," he said, trying to sound less terrified than he actually felt. "I think there's enough space to move your leg now."
Her body trembled with a shaky breath and he leaned in closer to her, his arm wrapping tight around her shoulders. "It's gonna hurt," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I don't know any other way to get you out of here and we've got to get you inside."
Lightning flashed more frequently outside, the quick blasts providing glimpses of her wide, green eyes staring up at him. She took a deep breath as she felt his hands wrap tight around her waist.
"Hang on. We're almost there." With a quick kick, the door slammed shut behind them and he moved to the couch where he gently laid her down. Finally able to see her in the light, his heart broke. Her neck and chest were bruised and scratched—no doubt a result of broken glass and the airbag. Her hands were cut and swollen and her leg—
His sharp intake of breath as he looked at the wound caused her to struggle to sit up. "No..No..No," he whispered, gently pushing her back down against the pillows. "Don't look at it."
"What?" She struggled against him, her body far too weak to resist even his most feeble effort. "What's wrong with my leg."
"You've just got a little cut, that's all.." Billy gingerly touched the thin piece of fabric, jumping as she hissed in pain. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to see what I need to do here." It was deep…too deep. There was far too much blood.
The lights flickered once more, this time followed by a large pop as the house went dark. The soft glow from the fire cast shadows across the room as he looked down at her. "We need to call for some help," he sighed. He stood, walking over to the table and grabbing his cell.
"I know. I know it hurts." He paused for a moment, waiting for her to look back at him. "You ready?"
Phyllis nodded, hissing as she gripped the edge of the couch. "Damn that hurts!"
"That's it." She watched as he sat the bottle of alcohol on the table behind him. "I've just got to wrap it now." His eyes were wary as he stared at her. "It's got to be tight though, so it's going to hurt."
"Right because everything else has been like being tickled with feathers," she hissed, closing her eyes and she felt him pull the bandages tight and wrap them around her leg.
"There." Billy stood up, surveying his work with a strange sense of pride. "It's not too bad if I do say so myself. I think maybe I've missed my calling."
"I'm so glad I could help you find your dream," she muttered. She relaxed against the pillows as she watched him pack up the supplies and move them over to the shelf. "Hey," she said softly, as he walked back towards the couch. "You did great," she smiled. "Seriously. Thank you." Her hand touched his arm for only a moment as she watched the smile on his face grow. It would be so easy…
She shook her head. "Did you try Jack again?"
Billy nodded. "Straight to voicemail. I don't know if he'll ever answer my number. Hopefully, once the storm breaks, I can go get your phone and you can call him."
"He's not gonna like this," she sighed.
"Like what?"
"Me being here with you. He's not going to like that I was here alone with you. I'm not supposed to see you, so I'm sure being at your house is off limits." Sitting here with him now, she almost understood Jack's reasoning behind the complete lack of contact. As long as she hadn't seen him—as long as she hadn't had to look at his face, look into his eyes, hear his voice, she could almost begin to forget the way it had felt to have him in her life. But now, even after just being with him for this brief period of time, it was like they had fallen right back into their routine. No matter how bad things were, no matter the circumstances, he was always there for her. She could always count on him. Things were simple, easy, comfortable. When she wasn't with him, it wasn't so damn hard not to miss him.
"It's not like we had much of a choice," he sighed. "I mean what was I going to do, leave you out there?" He shrugged. "I called for help. They said it would be hours. There are pile ups all over the city. If it's not life or death, it's not a priority tonight. I tried to call him. He didn't answer. This is on him, not on me…and certainly not on you." He looked at her, sensing the concern in her eyes. "If he tries to blame you for this…"
"Billy, No. Please don't get in the middle of this. I'll explain it to him and hopefully he'll understand."
"And if he doesn't?"
There was almost a touch of hope in his voice when he asked the question and she understood. By all rights, she could have been upset, she could have even been angry that he was hopeful her marriage would crumble, but she wasn't, because in truth—she was thinking the same thing.
She turned towards him as he entered the room again, his arms filled with boxes and packages.
"Good Lord," she giggled. "What is all that?"
Billy let the contents fall onto the floor before turning to her. "You okay?" he asked, gesturing to her leg.
She nodded. "I'm fine."
"And you're warm enough?"
"Billy," she groaned. "I'm fine, except for the fact that I'm starving and you've just walked in with what appears to be enough food to feed a small army. What is all that stuff?"
His face grew slightly serious as he leaned in closer to her. "You have to swear to me—you will never ever reveal this to anyone."
Phyllis narrowed her eyes as her head titled slightly. For a moment she contemplated if he was being serious—if he might actually be about to reveal something important. "Okaaaay," she grinned.
Billy took a breath. "I uh…I've been battling this in secret for a long time now." He fought to keep the smile at bay. There were so many things he missed about their relationships, some more obvious than others. He missed being with her—in every way, but more than sex, he missed just being with her. It was moments like this, when they could simply be together and laugh and joke and be at ease—these were the moments he'd wanted to last forever. These were the moments he'd dreamed about, the moments he'd wanted to have when they were old and gray and living out their lives together. It was this—this simple, comfortable rhythm.
He stood back, allowing her eyes to survey the large stack of junk that now lay spread across the living room floor. "I'm addicted to junk food," he said in mock seriousness. "It started off innocently enough..Johnny wanted this cereal that his Mom wouldn't buy and I was just trying to win the cool Dad points, you know?"
"Uh huh." She giggled softly as she watched him drop his head dramatically. "So, when did it move from cereal to the uh.." She gestured to the package of double stuffed Oreos, "to the hard stuff?"
"I think the Twinkies were the gateway," he whispered as he leaned closer to her. "It's something in the cream filling." He held out a cellophane wrapped snack cake towards her.
"What's this? You trying to drag me down with you?" She moved to scoot towards him, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't exactly in shape to be sliding around on the floor. A wave of sharp pain shot through her leg and she instantly stilled. Her eyes slammed shut as she tried to manage the pain, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily.
His breathing instantly quickened and the once light, airy tone was replaced by deep concern. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice nearly cracking with desperation. Seeing her in so much pain was nearly impossible for him. Worse still was the fact that there was very little he could do to help her. "Maybe I should get you back up on the couch. You might be more comfortable…"
He pulled himself up to his knees, moving to wrap his arms around her as he felt her hand grip his arm. Her grasp was surprisingly strong given the events of the evening. She looked up at him, her wide, green eyes sparkling at him as they had so many times before. "No," she said quickly, before softening her tone and adding, "Please. I'm okay, really. This is nice. Can't we just stay here?" Her hand slid down his arm, finally stopping to rest atop his, the simple gesture making his heart race.
Swallowing hard, he stared down at her. She could have asked him anything when she looked at him like that. Not seeing her for the past few months had been difficult, but somehow seeing her now and not being able to say everything he wanted to say was harder still. No matter what where she went, who she chose, what she said, his heart was still in the palm of her hand. How could she not know that?
"Of course," he whispered. "Of course we can. Whatever you want."
Her eyes fell, the sparkling emerald pools now shrouded in darkness and sorrow. Billy lowered himself gently back down beside her, extending his hand to touch her face before abruptly pulling it back. "What? What's the matter?"
What's the matter? On the surface it sounded like such a simple question, but the answer was anything but—or maybe it was. Maybe she was the matter. All her life she'd made these mistakes. She'd ended up with the wrong people for all the wrong reasons. She'd hurt people. She'd hurt herself, her children, her friends, people she claimed to value and love. It was a sort of given she'd come to expect. If her life seemed to be going well, even if only for a moment, it was surely temporary—the other shoe simply hung in the air..just waiting to drop.
This time though—this time was supposed to be different. She was making the right choice, even if it wasn't easy, even if it hurt like hell. She was fighting for her marriage because that what's you were supposed to do. She'd loved Jack once—deeply, passionately. She could love him like that again…unless…What if she didn't want to?
"Phyllis?" Billy's soft voice was now a bit louder as he leaned closer to her. "You okay?"
She shook her head, realizing quickly that she'd been lost in her own thoughts for far too long. "Yeah," she whispered, "Yes, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe you could try Jack again." She couldn't miss the flash of pain in his eyes as she said his name, and though he said nothing, she knew it hurt him every time she chose Jack.
"Sure." Billy stood up, walking quickly to grab the phone. This would be the sixth call. By now he would certainly be wondering why Billy was being so persistent.
Jack pushed the button on the remote control, watching as image after image flicked past on the television screen. If only he could control his thoughts like he controlled the images on the television screen in front of him. Nights like this were the hardest. He knew there were perfectly logical reasons that could explain why Phyllis wasn't yet home, but he also knew there were other, far less wholesome explanations.
His mind flashed back to all the conversations he had with her over the past months. How many times had she lied to him when he didn't have a clue? How many times had she come home to him straight from his brother's arms? The rage welled up inside of him as his mind raced through memory after memory.
The harsh light from his phone jolted him from his personal purgatory and he leaned forward, sighing heavily as his eyes fell on the screen. "What the hell?" he muttered, finally grabbing the phone tight in his hands. It was bad enough that he couldn't get Billy out of his head, he sure as hell wasn't going to spend his night talking to him.
"I have nothing to say to you," he breathed with contempt, not even pausing to allow for a greeting.
Billy glanced back at Phyllis, his quick change in expression immediately alerting her that there had been an answer. "Jack," he said quickly. "Jack wait a minute, please. Just give me a second."
"And you've got nothing to say that I want to hear," he continued, his finger poised over the end call button, "Now, if you have any decency at all, which I have my doubts about, don't call me again." Jack pulled the phone away from his ear, then stopped, as he heard Billy's voice bellowing through the receiver.
"It's about Phyllis."
It was as if a smoldering ember had suddenly caught fire, the rage that he'd barely been able to contain now seemed to pour from his entire body. His hand trembled as he brought the phone back to his ear. "How dare you even say her name," he spat.
"She's here," he said simply. "At my house. She's hurt." He looked back over at Phyllis, the sight of her bringing him simultaneous joy and pain. "She needs you."
He opened the door, stepping back as Jack forced himself inside. "Where is she? Where the hell is she?" Jack pushed further inside, his eyes finally falling on the fireplace.
"Red."
It wasn't that he wanted to watch, but he needed to see it. Maybe if he saw it, he could understand or, at the very least, begin to accept that fact that he could never be what she needed. The air seemed thick as he forced it in and out of his lungs, his eyes still transfixed on the image of his brother now kneeling beside her, his hand stroking her face.
"I'm okay, Jack." She leaned back, her eyes glancing over towards the doorway. It hurt to see him standing there, watching them. "Really," she said, leaning away a little more. "I'm fine."
Jack nodded, reaching around her arm. "Let's get you out of here."
Before she even had time to protest, she saw him move towards her. "Easy," Billy commanded. She looked at him, her eyes locking with his. He saw her quiet plea and took a breath, willing his voice to soften. "Her leg," he began, gesturing down to the bandage that still remained tight around the wound. "It was wedged under the dashboard of the car. It's cut pretty bad. I tried to call an ambulance, but they've got so many calls tonight. They told me some basic first aid stuff to do. I got it cleaned up and bandaged the best I could, but she's gonna need to go get it looked out…probably some stitches."
"You did great," she said softly, touching his arm gently. The weight of Jack's stare on her was palpable and she turned back to glance over her shoulder, "I don't know what I would have done without him," she whispered.
"Right..well, I should get you to a hospital it sounds like.."
"Jack…" She looked up at him, her eyes searching his.
"What?" He looked down at her, his once warm blue eyes now an icy cold empty space.
She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea hit. It wasn't the physical pain this time. It was the knowledge of what had changed. It was being able to see the difference between what once existed and what now masqueraded in its place. "Nothing," she said sadly.
Jack nodded. She didn't have to say anything. He knew what she wanted. It was the same thing she always wanted. No matter how many times she claimed not to care, he knew she always would. Even now she wanted to ensure Billy got his due. She wanted him to thank his cheating, lying, backstabbing brother for being all too willing to step and take care of his wife. He could only imagine all the things he'd like to help her with. Billy didn't deserve his gratitude..not now..not ever.
"Her jacket," Jack said flatly as he stood at the doorway.
Billy nodded, stepping back into the room and picking it up off the back of the back of the chair where he'd thrown it. He walked over, holding it out towards before stepping back. "Wait."
"Damn it, Billy."
"Just let me say this. She was really worried about this…about being here. She said you'd be upset that she was here." The memory of the moment still incited a different sort of rage in him. The fact that she would be worried about something so trivial in the midst of this made him sick. "I told her that you'd just be glad she was okay and that you would want someone to help her…no matter who that someone was. I told her that everything would be fine and that you wouldn't take this out on her." His voice shook with emotion as he stood at the man he used to admire. "I hope to God I'm not wrong about that."
Jack said nothing, standing still, his hand still outstretched. Billy sighed. "Take the damn jacket, Jack."
The sudden sound broke the silence. Billy sat up, his eyes now wide and searching the room for the source of the buzzing. His hand grappled for the phone, his heart racing as he saw his brother's name. "Please God," he whispered. She was okay when she left. He would have known if it was anything serious, wouldn't he?
"Hello?"
"Billy?"
His heart fell. Jack would never call him unless…. "Jack?" His voice nearly broke and he drew in a painful breath as he lowered himself back to the couch. "Is she…Is everything okay?"
"Can you come over here please?"
"You want me to come over?" He repeated the words as he heard them, certain there had been some blip in the translation. Unless this was alternate universe, Jack didn't want him anywhere near his home, much less near Phyllis. He ran his hand down his face, the feel of his skin against the early morning stubble confirming that this was reality and not a dream.
"Yes—as soon as you can, please."
He wasn't sure how many traffic laws he broke in his rush to get to the house. He'd stopped counting the red lights he'd artfully avoided when he hit four, but he couldn't worry about any of that. Traffic laws seemed unbelievably trivial at the moment.
Over and over his mind replayed the conversation with Jack. He tried to discern meaning from his tone and yet each time he came away more and more confused. He didn't sound upset, which would lead him to believe that Phyllis was fine, but if she was fine, why would he be calling him? If she wasn't…. He shook his head, not allowing his mind to venture into that dark place. If he went there, if he even allowed himself to consider the possibility, he might not make it to the house himself.
What typically seemed a short and scenic drive seemed unbearably long on this day, and he felt a wave of simultaneous relief and dread sweep over him as the house came into view.
Jack stood in the doorway of their bedroom, his eyes studying her intently. Slowly, he sat the suitcase down and stepped into the room, walking close the bed for a moment. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, her face relaxed into an almost satisfied smile. In a way, he hoped she'd be upset to wake up and find him gone, but in truth, he was almost certain she'd be relieved. This had been over before it really began and perhaps they both knew it.
"Alright, Red?" Jack stood up straight as he pulled the covers up around her, smiling as he watched her sink into the soft pillow. The medication they'd given her at the hospital was beginning to take its toll and she could barely keep her eyes open. "You need anything?" he asked softly.
"Mmph.."
He smiled, touching her hand softly, his fingers lightly tracing the rings on her hand. He could so clearly remember putting those rings on her finger. He also remembered the day she'd taken them off and tried to hand them back to him. He smiled as he watched her nose twitch quickly. If he was honest with himself, there were times—many times in fact—that he wondered if they were making a mistake, if too much had happened, if their marriage was beyond repair. But then there were moments like this, moments that he could look at her and realize that even in the most mundane of circumstances, she could still take his breath away. He loved her. God did he love her.
Her nose twitched again and he saw the small strand of hair that kept blowing across her face. Gingerly, he reached out, tucking it just behind her ear. He watched as her face relaxed and turned towards the warmth of his hand, her soft cheek resting against his palm.
"Billy," she whispered.
"Jack?" Billy stood at the door, a look of desperation resting deep in his eyes. "What's going on, Jack? Is she okay? Is Phyllis okay?"
Jack stepped back, gesturing into the room.
Billy stepped inside quickly, immediately looking around, his heart sinking as he saw no sign of her. He whirled around to face his brother. "Jack—What the hell?" He watched silently as Jack moved towards the stairs, bending at the waist to pick up the brown, leather suitcase.
"She's going to need someone here…someone to help her for a few days. I'm going to be at the Club. You're welcome to stay here…" He moved towards the door, his eyes closing as he felt Billy's hand grip his arm.
"Wait..Wait a minute. What are you talking about? What's going on?"
"I'm leaving. It's simple. You want her. She wants you." There was a strange freedom in saying the words, as if somehow acknowledging it gave him a sense of power he hadn't been able to accomplish before. He'd been fighting something that he'd refused to believe and now, having seen it with his own eyes, having finally admitted it to himself, he could accept the truth. He'd lost her, if she'd ever really been his.
"Jack, if this is about last night, I told you, I was just trying to help her. I would think you would want her to have help. Don't do this to her…not like this."
He shook his head. "It's not about that. I'm not angry with her. I just can't. I can't do it anymore." He took a breath. "Last night, all I could think about was getting her help, making sure she was okay, making sure she got everything she needed. I took her to the hospital, I got her checked out, I brought her home. I did everything I could to make sure she was comfortable. I was sitting there, right beside her, thinking about how damn lucky I was to have her back in my life."
"It's where she wants to be, Jack. She wants to make it work."
"Stop." He closed his eyes, clearing his throat before continuing. "That's not true. This isn't what she wants. If you honestly believe that—if she's got you believing that, then she's been lying to you just as much as she's been lying to me. What's even worse—I'm pretty sure she's been lying to herself. She wanted to want it—I do believe that, but last night—I saw it. I heard it in her voice."
Billy shook his head, his mind racing. "What did she say?"
"Your name. She said your name."
"That could mean anything." Billy ran his hand across his face. Allowing himself to believe, even for a second, that Phyllis wanted him, wanted to be with him again, was dangerous. It gave her the power to crush him again. Honestly, he didn't know if could handle it…not again.
Jack shook his head sadly. "No…She never said my name like that." It had been so long since he'd spoken to his brother this way, since his words didn't come out cloaked in venom and rage. "You know something…you were right."
"I was right?" Billy's eyes narrowed, "What was I right about?"
"You told me once that you weren't in the game and you were right….because there wasn't a game. It was never a fight—at least not a fair one. You were the only one she wanted. I was just a consolation prize." His hand gripped the handle of the suitcase once more, his eyes glistening with tears as he considered the finality of the moment. "She's sleeping," he said quietly. "I didn't tell her anything. You tell her. Just let her know that it's okay—that's it's all okay."
"Jack.." So many times he'd hoped for this, but in his dreams it had never been like this. "I…" He searched his mind for something, anything. This was the ending he'd wanted, wasn't it? "I'm sorry," he said finally, locking eyes with his brother for the first time in a while. "I really am, Jack."
Jack nodded. "I know."
He pushed the door open slowly, his footsteps soft as he crossed the floor. Her chest rose and fell slowly, her eyes just slightly fluttering as the sunlight began to filter into the room. Watching her could kill hours and not a minute would seem wasted. It seemed unbelievable to him that he was here, that this was happening, and yet it seemed like the most natural, fated thing in the world.
Her eyes opened slowly as if she somehow sensed his presence, the confusion settling in on her face almost immediately. "Billy," she breathed, "What are you doing here?"
"Jack called me. He asked me to come."
A puff of air escaped her lips and she stared at him incredulously, "Jack called you?"
"Yeah." He soft skin seemed to beckon to him and he found his fingertips dancing along her collarbone almost as if independent from the rest of his body. "He uh…He left a little while ago."
"I don't understand." Phyllis sat up a bit, her face contorting in pain as her leg provided an all too real remind of last night's events. "What do you mean he left? Where did he go?"
"He left. He said you called out my name last night. He said he knows he's not the one you want."
"I…" Pain settled into her eyes. "I don't remember any of that," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't even remember talking to him last night." She took a shaky breath, tears now welling up inside her eyes.
"I don't think you two talked. I think he just kind of realized it on his own. He wanted me to tell you that it's okay…that he's not angry."
A sob chocked her words as she attempted to speak and she sighed as she felt his warm hand sweep across her cheek to wipe away the tears. "Do you think he's okay?"
"No, but I think he will be."
He stroked her face again, pulling her closer to him as watched her body begin to shake with sobs. "I wouldn't be."
She turned, her eyes earnest as she looked at him. "What?"
"I wouldn't be okay—I couldn't take it…having to walk away from you again. It was hard enough not seeing you all these months, but seeing you again, being this close to you…"
He felt her nod into his chest. "I know," she whispered. "I've missed this. I've missed you." Her head leaned back against his chest, her eyes opening wider as she felt him pull away. "Wait..where?" She smiled as she saw him removing his shoes, his arms finding their familiar place around her as he pulled himself to lie beside her on the bed.
They were quiet for a moment.
"I never asked you," he whispered, relishing the feeling of holding her in his arms. "Last night…what were you doing out there?" He had his suspicions, but he needed to hear her say it. He wanted to know that she was in as deep as he was.
"Jack didn't want me to see you," she said quietly, "but I needed to know…" It didn't make sense when she heard it. "I guess I just needed to know you were still there…that you were still okay….that I could still find you." She stopped then, shaking her head. "It sounds crazy I know."
"Hmmm," he whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead. "That's funny, you know, I seem to remember somebody telling me that love makes people do crazy things."
"Really?" she smiled. "I can't imagine who would say a thing like that."
"I don't know, but you know…I think she might have known what she was talking about."
Phyllis smiled up at him, "I'm pretty sure she does. You know, I've done a lot of crazy things, but the craziest one was trying to convince myself that I could forget this…that I could forget you…because I can't….I could never. No matter where I went, no matter how hard I tried, I always ended up back where you were and I can't believe it took this for me to realize it was because that's where I always should have been."
"Whatever it took, it doesn't matter now," he sighed, closing his eyes as he felt her head rest against his chest. "You're here. I'm here. That's all that matters."
The End