Brave
Chapter 6 – Callback

It was the strangest thing. Eddie didn't know what had caused the videos to start springing up in his recommended section on YouTube in the first place. Moreover, he didn't even know what had possessed him to click on one in the first place. He had never much been one for comedy routines, and he couldn't remember ever watching something similar on YouTube before. He usually ended up watching much more informative things, such as the best ways to disinfect various surfaces in one's home, or what all those symptoms he had really meant.

But here he was, nearly a year later, actively searching to see if any new content from a certain comedian had been uploaded recently. At first, Eddie had just been watching the comedy routines themselves, but now, he had found himself viewing various interviews with the man as well.

It was absolutely absurd. He was a grown forty-year-old man, and he was acting like some silly teenager – looking up videos and feeling his pulse speed up when thumbnails of Richie Tozier's ridiculous face filled up his screen.

Just as Eddie scrolled to a video he hadn't watched before – one of the newer routines apparently – Myra stirred beside him in bed. Eddie rolled his eyes, thinking the woman had a sixth sense about this sort of thing. He had even taken the time to put his earbuds in so that the noise wouldn't awaken her.

"Are you watching that crass comedian again?" Myra demanded in a sleep-heavy voice.

"Yes, dear," Eddie replied automatically, reaching up to pull one earbud out. "You know I do most every night." He stared at her, giving her a fake smile. "And look, there's a new routine that's been uploaded that I'd really like to watch before bed. You know it helps calm my anxiety," he bit out between gritted teeth.

More and more, Eddie found that watching Richie's videos before bed helped him relax enough to fall asleep. Many times, he'd barely even make it through the entire video before he'd end up dozing off. Myra would find him in the morning, with his laptop still somewhat balanced on his legs and Eddie slumped over in various uncomfortable positions against the headboard.

She'd have a fit, of course, because Eddie was going to ruin his back by the time he was fifty if he kept doing that, but he could never bring himself to care. Oftentimes, Eddie's anxiety would be so bad, he'd toss and turn for hours before he fell asleep. And then out of nowhere, there were these stupid videos from a stupid comedian he'd never known about that somehow seemed to calm him like nothing else ever could. Not even on the rare occasions when Myra was in one of her generous moods and tried to massage away the stiffness in Eddie's shoulders before he laid down.

Myra, on the other hand, never had a problem falling asleep, so she was never aware of just how many hours Eddie laid awake at night. He'd stare at the ceiling, worrying about stupid shit like if he had scrubbed the kitchen counter well enough after they'd had raw meat on it. Or if Myra would wake up during the course of the night and find something to yell at him for, which would inevitably erupt into a full-blown argument.

This was stupid, Eddie decided. He had found something that actually helped calm his anxiety – something that wasn't in a bottle and something that wasn't hurting anyone else. Eddie couldn't understand why Myra couldn't just let him watch the damn videos and be happy that he had found something that helped him. Marriage should be about compromise and helping one another; not about walking on eggshells in case the other one woke up and found you watching videos she didn't like.

Perish the thought.

"Then go calm your anxiety in the living room," Myra muttered, making a show of fluffing her mound of pillows and smoothing the blankets out around her. "You know I don't like that inappropriate sort of thing in my sleep space. The screen is too bright anyway. That messes with your circadian rhythm. No wonder you can't sleep at night."

"It's when I don't watch the videos that I can't sleep," Eddie muttered, gathering up his laptop in one arm and throwing the blankets aside with the other. "I turned the damn brightness down as low as I could without making the whole thing black. I try, okay? But it's never enough for you, is it?" Eddie asked, glancing back at her before he stood up.

"You shouldn't be using your laptop in bed anyway!" she cried after him. "It's horrible for your posture, staring down at that screen! You'd be much better off if you used it at a desk so you could sit up straighter!"

"So I'll go use it on the couch instead," Eddie replied, wrenching the door open. "That'll be much better for my posture."

"Don't stay out on the couch all night though, Eddie-kins!" Myra yelled before he closed the door. "That's even worse for your back!"

Eddie pulled the door shut, sufficiently muffling any last words she was screaming at him. By the time he made his way out to the couch, he was fucking shaking again, because count on that woman to get him all worked up before bed.

He set his laptop down on the coffee table, then set his earbuds on top of that, feeling his breath coming in wheezing gasps in his chest. "Christ," Eddie muttered, reaching across the table for one of the many inhalers he kept around the house. After using it several times, he took a moment to breathe deeply in through his nose and then out through his mouth. In, out, in, out. Wash, rinse, repeat, until Eddie felt the quivering in his extremities subsiding.

"Don't worry, Myra, I'm fine!" Eddie snapped back towards the direction of their bedroom.

Eddie grabbed up the quilt that they kept on the armchair, unfolding it and laying it across the couch. When Eddie was stretched out underneath it, he reached for his laptop, laying it across his legs and putting his earbuds in again.

Eddie clicked on the thumbnail for Richie's new video that was still displayed on his screen. After the ads played through and the applause and cheers gave way to Richie's stupid voice, Eddie felt himself relaxing almost immediately. His breath almost coming easier than even after he had just used his inhaler.

Whenever Eddie watched Richie's videos, however, there was always something strange nagging at the back of his mind. It was a weird sense of déjà vu a lot, even though Eddie had never seen this video before, and it happened every time he watched one. Eddie supposed that was part of what he liked about them; they were familiar in a way that almost made him feel at home.

And then there was something else – something always slightly off in Richie's eyes or in his voice. It wasn't always there, but when it was, Eddie noticed it like one would notice an ambulance blazing down the road. It was obvious and unmistakable, although Eddie had a hard time putting his finger on exactly what it was. It almost seemed insincere at times maybe? Disingenuous? Just for a split second, and then it would be gone, replaced by Richie's casual and relaxed expression.

It was almost like Richie didn't quite believe what he was saying, like it was completely foreign on his lips. Eddie wondered more than once if Richie wrote his own material, which was stupid. He knew absolutely nothing about this man, so who was Eddie to think he knew anything at all about this man's life?

And then sometimes, there was a distinct note of sadness in Richie's voice, a faint shimmer in his eyes. Usually, it came when Richie was talking about one of his many girlfriends, when the audience would be laughing their asses off at something. But just like the others, it would be gone almost immediately, leaving Eddie to wonder if anyone else noticed these things, or if it was just him. Just Eddie and his stupid brain that was probably making something out of nothing; pretending that he knew more about Richie than he really did. Just the effect of what Eddie was pretty sure was turning into a ridiculous crush on a goddamn semi-celebrity.

But it made Eddie happy, so fuck it. Fuck Myra too if she didn't like it. Eddie wiggled around, making himself more comfortable on the couch cushions, already feeling his eyelids grow heavy, Richie's annoying voice calming to him for the most incomprehensible reason. Myra had told him not to spend the entire night on the couch, but that was exactly what he intended to do.

Eddie had been watching this stupid comedian for nearly a year and the very next day, Eddie's entire would be turned on its head when he realized that what he knew about Richie Tozier went far beyond the videos he was restricted to on YouTube.


"You watched me for an entire year?" Richie asked, grinning like the stupid ass that he was.

"Give or take," Eddie replied nonchalantly. "Actually, I think it was just after my birthday last year when that first stupid video of yours showed up on my recommended page, and what possessed me to click it, I have no idea."

Richie had taken up residence on the chair next to Eddie's bed, rather than continue to balance on the edge of the mattress. Apparently, Richie found that sitting on the edge of the chair and leaning his arms onto the bed was much more comfortable. Who knew?

"I'm bummed that I missed your fortieth birthday this year," Richie said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie's hand. "It's a big one."

"You would know," Eddie replied, "since you reached that glorious milestone a full six months before me. Old fucking geezer."

"Well, I'm going to go all out next year," Richie said firmly, nodding. "You'll be out of the hospital and well on your way to putting Myra behind you. We'll actually get to be together and this'll give me almost an entire year to think of a present."

"Just don't do anything embarrassing," Eddie said, bringing his free hand up to cover his eyes.

"I'm Richie Tozier. I'm embarrassing by nature."

"Great. I have a full fucking year to blow it all out of proportion in my mind. Thanks."

"But I still can't believe you were fucking watching me," Richie said, staring down at their hands. "And that you fucking knew I didn't believe a goddamn word I was saying."

"It wasn't that obvious," Eddie reiterated. "Most of the time, I didn't even notice it. Just when it did happen, I caught it almost immediately." Eddie could feel his face growing warm as he admitted, "It probably came with watching some of those videos dozens of times. It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't," Richie told him, bringing Eddie's hand up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Eddie's palm before he pressed it up against his cheek. "I think it's kind of romantic. Like you still remembered me after all this time."

Eddie could feel Richie's stubble digging into his skin, a sensation Eddie was coming to love. He ran his thumb over Richie's cheekbone, reveling in the way Richie leaned into his touch and closed his eyes in contentment. It almost made Eddie's breath catch in his throat, almost made Eddie's heart skip a beat that he was finally able to do all the things he dreamed about as a child.

"And fuck Myra if she didn't get why you needed it," Richie suddenly said, his happiness giving way to slight anger.

"Didn't get why I was developing a crush on a somewhat famous comedian," Eddie said around a snort. "Right."

"No, but regardless of whether it was me or not," Richie argued, "it was helping to calm your anxiety and help you sleep at night. I think it's fantastic that you were able to finding something like that, and like you said, it wasn't hurting anyone else. I don't get why Myra had to give you shit for it all the time."

"Because you're the Trashmouth, and it's what she does," Eddie said around a sigh. "It's why I keep putting off calling her at all. Or turning my phone back on."

Eddie picked up his phone from where it had been sitting on the mattress. There was unidentifiable crud stuck around the edges of the screen, no doubt the product of either being puked on by a fucking leper or traipsing around in the sewer. Why he hadn't just left his phone back at the inn while they went on their little excursion was anyone's guess. Eddie had already tried scrubbing at those spots on the screens with sanitary wipes for all the good it did; it looked like they had actually seeped underneath the screen itself, teeming with bacteria.

He would definitely need a new phone as soon as he was back on his feet, but it would have to do for now. Eddie would just have to use the speaker phone to keep it away from his face and wash his hands a dozen times after touching it.

"I can't keep putting this shit off," Eddie said, taking a deep and calming breath, although it did nothing of the sort. "Attila the Hun has waited long enough."

Eddie's hands shook as he powered his phone back on after the Losers had turned it off a week ago. His heart was pounding and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Eddie flinched away when he typed his password in.

Almost immediately, missed calls and missed texts flooded the screen, and if Eddie was standing up, he thought he probably would have fallen over. Eddie turned the screen away, hoping it would ease the anxiety that was currently ripping through him, and held it out for Richie to see instead.

Richie's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Holy shit," Richie mumbled. "Two hundred and six missed calls? Seventy-six missed texts? It's only been a week, and I'll have you know there are only one hundred and sixty-eight hours in said week. Attila the Hun is a savage."

"I can't believe you know that," Eddie said, "and it's been a week and a half now, but yeah." Eddie turned the filthy screen back towards him and said, "And my voicemail is fucking full. I can't wait to see how many crazy screaming messages she left me."

"Don't listen to them, man," Richie said, reaching out and laying his other hand on top of Eddie's, the one with the phone in it. Richie pulled it down and said, "It's only going to work you up before you call her and it'll just make things worse."

Eddie could feel the bile rising up in his throat at the thought of message after message of Myra's screaming. Eddie tried to swallow the feeling away, but it stayed there, burning in his esophagus. "I can't do this, man," Eddie said, his breath starting to get labored again.

"Remember what I told you in the sewer," Richie said. He took a moment to pull Eddie's hand towards him again, folding Eddie's fingers neatly over his own. He cupped it tightly with his other hand and said, "You're braver than you think."

Eddie grasped Richie's hand firmly, pretty sure of the fact that he'd never tire of touching Richie. It was one of the things he'd wanted most in his life, something he thought was always going to be out of reach, but now here it was. It was his. For some reason unbeknownst to Eddie, Richie loved him, and Eddie wasn't entirely sure what he had ever done to deserve the man of his dreams. To actually have the love of his life.

And now when Richie touched him, it was like a lifeline. It was like a part of the anxiety that coursed through Eddie was being channeled through to Richie, siphoned from Eddie. It had always been like that since they had been children, but now, the feeling was even more pronounced. Now that Eddie knew that Richie was touching him out of nothing but love (and not under the guise of roughhousing), the feeling was exhilarating. It calmed him in ways that Eddie didn't even think possible. Made him feel grounded.

"Would it be better if I left?" Richie asked. "Give you some privacy?"

As much as Eddie didn't want to relinquish his hold on Richie, he couldn't help but think it might make him even more uncomfortable if Richie could hear the way Myra treated him. Not that Eddie had any issues with Richie hearing it at all; they were going to be together, and they needed to open and honest with each other. Rather, Eddie was embarrassed that he had put up with Myra's treatment for so very long.

Coming home to Derry had made Eddie realize so many things, and not just the friends and childhood he had forgotten. It was like this stupid fucking town opened his eyes to the fact Eddie deserved to be treated with love and respect. Or no, it really wasn't the town at all, was it? Eddie knew it was being back with the rest of the Losers that had taught him that. It was being back with Richie, who had never said a single nasty thing to Eddie in his life (unless he was teasing, which was a big difference). Yeah, Richie was constantly ribbing him, but it was part of their relationship, and Eddie knew none of it was ever malicious. When it came right down to it, when they were in serious circumstances like these, Richie was never anything but anything but loving and supportive. So very unlike Eddie's mother and Myra, and Eddie supposed that was what made Eddie fall for him at all.

"Yeah, maybe," Eddie said, still trying to swallow away the burning in his throat. "And now I'm rethinking even telling her I'm in the hospital. If I can't even talk to her on the phone, there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to handle having her here. I mean, can you imagine? This place would be in chaos, and like you said, I don't need that right now. I think you guys were right."

"So don't tell her."

"You're incorrigible."

"I'm just looking out for you," Richie said firmly. "The last thing I want is for you to have to deal with her while you're trying to heal. You don't need that kind of negativity right now."

Eddie smiled, now pulling Richie's hand towards his chest and holding it close to his heart, careful to avoid the still very tender scar just beneath it. Eddie couldn't quite find his voice, so he stared at Richie for a long time, every regret over the last twenty-seven years seeming to flood into his chest all at once.

Regret that he let so many years pass without telling Richie how he felt. That he had actually forgotten Richie in those intervening years, so much so that he had been convinced that no one else in this world could love him as much as Myra did. That he had given into marrying her, because he didn't think he deserved any better than to be controlled and manipulated. That he had ended up marrying a woman who was exactly like his mother, just like Beverly had married someone like her father.

Most of all though, Eddie regretted all of the time he had lost with Richie. Decades that they could have been together and been happy, now lost like the grains of sand falling through an hourglass. Gone, never to be gotten back, and Eddie would be damned if he was going to let that happen again.

Richie had been given back to him, and he wasn't going to let him go ever again. Eddie had said he wanted nothing more than to be with Richie and that was true. Eddie had had the courage to make his feelings known, so now he had to make his dreams come true. The very first step to making that happen was to start coming clean to Myra. Eddie already did the scariest thing he ever thought possible – telling Richie he loved him – so Eddie could do this too. He could.

You're braver than you think.

"Yeah," Eddie finally agreed. "Maybe I should just start off by telling her it's over. I think letting her come here at all without telling her I don't love her beforehand would just be leading her on. And I don't want to have to tell her that here." Eddie made a face as he realized what his words implied. "Or maybe that's just cowardly, doing this all over the phone. I don't know."

"Eddie," Richie said, shaking his head. "I told you, you're not cowardly. You're braver than I am by far. Do what feels comfortable to you right now. If you're uneasy with having her come here, then you shouldn't feel obligated to."

Richie got to his feet a moment later and leaned over Eddie's bed. He cupped Eddie's cheek and pressed a soft kiss to Eddie's forehead.

"I'll be right outside," Richie whispered before releasing his hold on Eddie and turning to leave the room.

Just before he got to the door, Eddie called, "Richie?" When the other man stopped and turned back to him, Eddie said, "Thank you."

Richie smiled at him, those tears forming in his eyes again. Jesus, Eddie thought. This was all still very new to him, and Eddie had a hard time believing that he was the reason that Richie was suddenly so emotional.

"I love you," Richie told him.

Eddie's chest suddenly felt tight again, but for an entirely good reason. For an entirely different reason than the way his anxiety often grabbed ahold of his chest and squeezed. Breathing hard, Eddie replied, "I love you."

"Knock her dead, Eds."

When Richie was gone, Eddie quickly picked up his phone from his lap, found Myra's number, and dialed it before he could lose his nerve. She answered after one ring, a fact that didn't surprise Eddie in the least.

"EDWARD KASPBRAK, WHERE ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

Eddie had already been holding his phone away from his face, but he pulled it away even farther. Myra screamed so loud, it made Eddie's ears ring. In fact, Eddie would have been surprised if the entire hospital didn't hear her end of the conversation.

"Myra," Eddie began, trying to keep his voice as calm and as even as possible. "Myra, calm down."

"I will not calm down!" Myra continued to yell, although her tone had dropped slightly. "My husband goes missing for weeks on end without a word to me?! Just who do you think you are?!"

"It was eleven days, and I wasn't missing," Eddie replied, keeping his eyes closed against the onslaught that Myra was launching at him. He tried to keep his breathing slow and even, imagining that Richie still might be holding his hand. Keeping him grounded. "You've known exactly where I was this entire time, and if I remember correctly, you told me not to come home ever again. Does that not still stand?"

A moment of silence punctuated the room before Myra said, "I was worried about you! How dare you ignore all of my calls and messages! I thought something happened to you! I was ready to call the police!"

"And there's nothing they could have done," Eddie replied tiredly. "I'm an adult man who was honest with the fact that he was leaving town. No foul play involved at all."

"I thought your plane crashed!" Myra screamed next. "I haven't heard you from this entire time so what was I supposed to think?! I've been watching the news, looking for reports about crashed planes! I've been calling the airline, trying to find out if something happened. How dare you do that to me!"

It was the first time during this phone call that Eddie felt his resolve beginning to crumble. Underneath all of her shouting, Myra truly did sound genuinely worried about him, and Eddie supposed it was shitty of him to leave her hanging all this time. He could have at least called her when he first arrived in Derry to let her know that he had arrived safely.

"I'm sorry, Myra," Eddie said around a sigh. That burning feeling was rising in his throat again, and he tried to ignore it. "I've been with my friends and…I honestly didn't know if we were through or not. And you haven't answered my question."

More silence on Myra's end of the line. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter still. "I was angry, Eddie-kins. You know I worry when you go on trips and I like to be hold when you arrive safely."

It was amazing the way Myra's demeanor changed completely when she thought she was pushing Eddie too far. The way she called him by that abhorrent nickname when she was trying to reel him back in.

Jesus, why hadn't Eddie been able to see all of this before? The way she so easily manipulated him?

"I know," Eddie said, then his next breath came in a gasp. He let out a shuddering sound, reminding himself that he was still on oxygen, so there was no reason for this. None. The doctors told him that if he felt short of breath, to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, so that was what he did. Nice deep breaths in and out, just like Richie had always told him to do.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Eddie asked, his voice now wavering slightly. There was something in Myra's tone that was making him feel sorry for her, and Eddie knew she was only trying to control him again. To get him to do what she wanted. "I've just realized a lot of things since I've been here."

Again, Myra didn't respond right away. After a few moments, she asked, "When are you coming home?"

"I don't know," Eddie replied. "Not…not for a while yet, I don't think."

"You don't think?" Myra asked snidely.

That made Eddie push back again. "No, I don't," he said. "I honestly don't. In fact…I don't know if I'm ever going to come back."

That was at least partially true. Eddie sure as hell wasn't going to spend the rest of his life in Derry, but he certainly had no intention of ever returning to his home in New York again. He thought Myra should at least be aware of that much.

"Edward Kaspbrak," Myra said, her voice now low and gravelly. "Are you having an affair?"

It was the first time Eddie didn't have a response for her. "Myra-" he tried, but she cut him off.

"Are you?" she demanded. When Eddie didn't reply, she asked, "What's her name?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Eddie had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Of course Myra thought it was a woman – probably some young, blond twenty-something that was a fraction of Myra's body weight. If only she knew that it was that crass comedian that Eddie liked to fall asleep to.

It wasn't funny, but it was.

"Who is she?" Myra asked when Eddie still didn't answer.

"There is no she, Myra." For once, Eddie was glad to be able to speak the entire truth to her. She was still his wife, and he didn't want to lie to her, but she didn't give him a whole lot of options. Then again, Eddie supposed he might be acting the same way if the tables were turn.

That was if Myra wasn't such a suffocating presence in his life. In fact, maybe that was why Eddie now saw her for what she was – mean, and manipulative, and overbearing, just like his mother. Maybe it was finally being away from her that had made him realize just how much he lived under her thumb.

It was like when Eddie had gotten his cast off. He had grown so accustomed to it being there, he almost didn't realize how different it would feel once it was gone. It had been a godawful, itchy pain in the ass, yes, but it had become a part of him in a way. When it had finally been cut off, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have air on his bare skin. Not having to drag the weight of it around anymore made him feel like a whole new person. All things he hadn't been expecting until it was gone.

Eddie had never gone more than twenty-four hours without speaking to Myra. Even when he had been out of town on business, she still kept a close watch on him, expecting daily check-ins. Eddie had been ignoring her since his plane landed in Maine, and he couldn't remember ever feeling so damn free in his entire life. It was amazing.

"Bullshit," Myra said, pulling Eddie from his thoughts.

"There isn't, okay?" Eddie asked. "Absolutely no she to speak of. I've just been doing a lot of thinking since I've been here, and…you know this isn't working out."

There. He said it – exactly what both he and Myra had been thinking for at least half of their marriage.

"Eddie-" Myra began, but it was Eddie's turn to cut her off.

"I want a divorce."

More silence from Myra. If not for the length of this phone call still climbing on his screen, Eddie would have assumed she had hung up on him.

Eddie flinched then, again feeling like shit for dumping all of this on her over the phone. But Eddie absolutely didn't want her to come here, and it couldn't wait until he got out of the hospital and went home to retrieve his things to tell her. He would have just been leading her on, and that wasn't fair to her either.

"I'm sorry," Eddie sighed. "This is a really, really awful way to tell you-"

"You are a coward, Edward Kaspbrak," Myra bit out. "Come here and tell me that to my face!"

Eddie could feel his bottom lip quivering against Myra's insult. And he knew that what she was saying was the truth. He pressed his free hand to his eyes, praying that he wouldn't start crying on the phone with her.

"I'm sorry," Eddie bit out again, and it was absolutely no use trying his voice steady anymore. It was quivering with anger, and fear, and shame – every single one of those things directed at himself. "I know this isn't fair to you, but…I told you, I'm not coming home." He paused and swallowed, his attempts to keep himself calm now a lost cause. "I mean, I will come to get my things and sort everything out, but-"

"They have couple's counseling," Myra interrupted him. She had now realized that yelling didn't work, and being nice didn't work, so she was starting to throw things at the wall to see what stuck. "We could go see someone."

"Myra," Eddie said again, and then he mentally kicked himself when her name came out enveloped in a loud sob. Eddie pressed his hand over his mouth, hoping against hope that it wouldn't happen again. "It isn't something that can be fixed," he said when he removed his hand. "I can't…" Eddie paused again, considering the best possible way to tell her the truth. "I can't force myself to have feelings that aren't there."

The duration of the call still kept climbing, and still Myra said nothing. She was out of words, it seemed.

"I'm sorry-" Eddie said again, but that was when Myra seemed to find her voice.

"Yeah," she snapped, "you are sorry. You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

The timestamp on his phone stopped and then the words 'call ended' told him that Myra had finally had enough of his shit and hung up on him. To start looking for a good lawyer apparently, because she and Eddie both knew she didn't have one.

"Fuck," Eddie muttered, letting his phone fall to the mattress next to him. All his previous concerns about the germs swarming around under the screen were all but forgotten, now replaced with the fact that he just treated his wife like complete and utter shit. Yes, she was abusive. Eddie realized that now, but he never wanted to feel like he was throwing her out with the trash.

He never wanted to get Richie involved in something so messy either. Richie was somewhat famous, and Eddie was suddenly terrified that if his name ever came up, that it would be all over the news. Eddie could see the headlines now.

TRASHMOUTH: HUMORIST OR HOMEWRECKER?

How could Eddie ever expect Richie to get involved in this shit? How could he, in good conscious, assume that Richie would wait while Eddie sorted all of this out? Richie said he didn't have any problem doing so, but what if it ended up affecting Richie's career, and he came to resent Eddie for it?

Why had Eddie ever resigned himself to marrying this woman in the first place? Richie had been right – it had been easy. Easy to fall back into being controlled and dominated by a woman. Easy to fall back into the pattern of being so submissive, he was afraid of his own shadow sometimes.

Eddie had fucked shit up and he knew he had to fix them. He had to dig his feet in and stand up for himself like he had never done before. The only problem was, Eddie needed to have Richie by his side throughout all of this, and he wasn't sure that Richie's resolve would remain when all was said and done.

He wasn't even sure if Richie would still want him. He said he did, but Richie deserved to be happy too; he didn't need to be responsible for an anxiety-laden hypochondriac with too much fucking baggage.

Eddie finally had a chance to truly be happy, and he was certain that it was about to be ripped out of his hands before he even really had it.

Richie's emotions must have been rubbing off on him, because Eddie was suddenly sobbing. This, however, made his entire chest throb, it felt like he was having a heart attack. Eddie placed a hand over his bandages, hoping that the pressure would help, but it only made the pounding pain intensify.

Eddie sobbed again, but this time it was from physical pain entirely. Jesus Christ, was he going into respiratory distress again? Wasn't that what Richie had called it? Was he going into cardiac arrest? Eddie didn't suppose so, because wouldn't one of his many monitors set off some sort of alarm? But Eddie felt like he was suffocating again.

Eddie fumbled for his phone again, quickly scrolling through the names until he found Richie's, and quickly typed out three words before he pressed send.

I need you.

To be continued…

Author's note: Oh, wow. It's really, really hard to write about Myra without making her seem like a complete asshole. I'm really trying hard not to, but it's difficult when we know so little about her and what we do know is filtered through so many other perspectives. I also don't want to have Eddie be a complete asshole to her in return considering that they are married. I really struggled with her in this chapter, and I hope I didn't go too far in either direction!