Her hand trembled as she held the phone to her ear, the simple action proving difficult as the room seemed to spin around her. Black edges seemed to rush in towards her eyes as if she was trapped in a tunnel that didn't exist. The ringing of the phone was barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding.
Billy closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. These were the nights that haunted him-the nights where he faced the ugliest of truths. He was alone. His children were with their mother. The woman he loved was in her home-the one she shared with her husband, his brother. And where was he? He was alone with his dreams that could never happen and his wishes that could never come true.
His cell phone rang. He didn't want to talk. He was wallowing and he was all in now, but as his eyes glanced down at the caller ID, he stilled.
"Phyllis?"
She could hear the question in his voice, but she couldn't explain. She exhaled, the sounds escaping in sputters as she struggled to stop the trembling.
"B-B-Billy," she managed, before drawing in another shaky breath. The darkness seemed to want to swallow her whole and she gripped the phone tighter as she tried to speak again.
"Ple...Please..."
The wave broke then and suddenly there was nothing-only black.
"Phyllis!" Billy called her name louder now, already on his feet and grabbing for his keys. "Phyllis-Are you there? Can you hear me?"
Silence. He slammed the door behind him as he ran towards his car at full speed. Something was very wrong.
Billy jerked the wheel, turning fast into the driveway. He humped from the car and barrel led to the front door, using his fist to beat on the heavy wooden piece.
"Phyllis!" he called. "Phyllis, it's me. It's Billy. Let me in."
"Dammit," he muttered, jumbling through his keys and finding his copy. He pushed open the front door, his eyes immediately scanning the room for her presence.
"Phyl..." He stopped as he saw her, his body immediately rushing forward.
Billy grabbed the phone and placed it back on the couch. He carefully placed his hand behind her head, glancing upwards gratefully when he saw no blood and felt no wound. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her face felt cold and clammy.
He felt his own hands tremble slightly as he called for an ambulance. He didn't know what happened. He didn't know how long she'd been unconscious. He didn't know about any other symptoms. He didn't know anything.
The idea of it made him feel sick. She was the woman he loved-someone he'd protect at all costs and yet he couldn't even answer the most basic of questions. He looked down at her, as he cradled her head in his hands. Shifting slightly, he sat on the floor, now allowing her head to rest in his lap.
"You hang in there," he whispered.
"Stitch...Stitch..Come on, Please...You know me. I just want to know she's ok. I'm not asking for any kind of private medical information here."
"Billy." Stitch sighed, "We've been through this. I can't tell you anything. I can't even confirm that we have anyone by that name as a patient."
Billy huffed, slamming his hand down on the counter. "I know she's a damn patient. I'm the one that called the ambulance. It only makes sense that I should be told about her condition."
"I'm sorry, but if you want answers about her treatment, you're gonna need to get them from her," Stitch replied, gesturing towards the room door.
"Wait, so she's awake?" Billy felt his heart begin to race. He'd made a deal with himself that he wouldn't even allow himself to consider that she wouldn't make it or that anything horrible was going on. Somehow, however, that hadn't stopped the small slivers of doubt from seeping into his brain and terrifying him.
"She's not 100%," Stitch admitted, but she'll know you're here and maybe she can help you get some questions answered.
Billy nodded. Phyllis was awake. That was one wish answered.
He slowly entered the room, his body relaxing as he saw her face. Her color was better and her eyes, though heavy, were slightly open.
"It's good to see those eyes," he said quietly, brushing his lips against her fingertips as he gently gripped her hand in his.
"Sorry that I scared you. I just...I didn't know who else to call."
"No..I'm glad you called me. You can always call me. I want you to." The words came out in a rush...so fast...to fast. He let go of her hand and rubbed his own over his face. Desperation was not an attractive quality.
"I just mean-I always want you to know I'm here and if you need me you can call. I'll be here."
She smiled. "I know you will."
"What did the doctor say?" he asked, hoping the question sounded more nonchalant than it felt.
"He said my blood sugar bottomed out and my blood pressure was way too low. It's probably just stress and dealing with everything around here. He's running a few more tests just to be safe, but he's pretty sure it's just stress-related."
He winced. Stress. He was the stress. They were the stress, their love, their relationship, their existence could have caused all of this.