"You still haven't answered my question," Billy whispered, his eyes still fixed on hers.
"That's because I wasn't talking to you," Phyllis snapped before turning around quickly on the stool. The numerous glasses of scotch were quickly catching up with her and she teetered precariously on the small seat, whispering a hushed thank you to her new friend beside her.
Billy stepped up close behind her. "Why don't you let me take you home?"
"No, thank you. I'm perfectly happy here. I was actually having a very nice conversation with my new friend here…." She looked over at him, realizing she hadn't thought to ask his name.
"Gary," he said quietly. "My name's Gary." He scooted in closer, lowering his voice. "Which one is this—the nowhere guy or…"
Phyllis glared at him. "Gary," she began, raising her voice more than necessary, "And I were actually just talking about the finer points of relationships….weren't we Gar?"
"Is that so?" Billy turned his attention to the man that sat next to her. He'd clearly been drinking himself, but not in a way that made him terribly obnoxious. "Well Gary, is it? You got any advice for me?"
"Pffpt," he chortled, "You realize you're asking someone that's sitting in a bar drinking alone, right?" He gestured to the beer Billy held in his hand. "How many of those have you had?"
"You must be doing something right. You've managed to snag a seat next to the most beautiful woman in the room. That takes some kind of skill, so I'm asking…what's your secret?"
Billy waited for a moment, only then allowing his eyes to drift over towards Phyllis', happy to see a small smile on her face. It made him happy to know he could still get to her—even if she claimed he couldn't. His joy was all too short as he watched another man approach the bar, stopping short as he approached her seat.
"Want to dance?"
Billy watched in abject horror as he sized her up.
"Oh," Phyllis smiled, "I…"
"She can't," Billy interrupted, standing quickly and moving to stand between them.
"She can't?"
"No she uh…she promised me the next dance." He turned back, his eyes pleading with her. "Isn't that right?"
For a moment she considered having a little fun, but somehow torturing him didn't seem as appealing as it once had. She was being tortured enough for them both.
"Yeah, that's true, Sorry," she whispered, watching as the guy nodded and walked away.
"You know, I think we're gonna have to have that dance," he said with a small smile, "I'm not sure I want that guy to take me for a liar. He seems like the type to carry around a crowbar for nefarious purposes."
"Maybe," she giggled, "But I'm not even sure I can stand, much less dance and this isn't exactly music to dance to…at least not in public." She blinked and he was standing in front of her with his hand outstretched.
"It'll be fine," he whispered, standing far too close to her now, "I'll hold you up."
"I don't really think this qualifies as dancing," she muttered, her words slightly slurred now. She felt his chest rumble with laughter as she leaned against him. "It's not funny," she giggled, "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not laughing at you." The breath left his body in a deep sigh as he pulled her tighter against him. In truth, they weren't really dancing. It was more of a sway, but it was perfect. She was in his arms and that was enough. Her head rested against his chest and the closeness of her body allowed the smell of her perfume to overpower the stench of stale smoke that permeated the building.
He could stay like this forever, just holding her, knowing that, at least as long as she was here, she was safe and she was his, but that wouldn't be right. It wasn't what was best for her and it certainly wasn't what she needed. God only knows how much she'd had to drink tonight and she certainly didn't seem to have been eating anything. Already she was past the point of driving herself anywhere and he couldn't leave her alone here.
Gently, he brought his head close to her face, his lips brushing her forehead for only a second. She turned her head, her green eyes staring up at him, instantly taking his breath. "Why don't you let me take you home?" It took everything in him to force the words from his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was take her home. He wanted to keep her there with him. He wanted to somehow go back in time and change everything that had happened in the last year, to fix it, to fix them, but he knew all of that was impossible.
She stepped back a bit, pulling away from their embrace. Immediately she stumbled and reached for him, her eyes showing her gratitude when he was there to steady her—just as he always was. "I don't want to go home," she breathed. "I can't go back there…I don't want to go home." She shook her head. "Aly is spending the night with a friend." Her eyes fell on his again. "You can't take me home."
Billy opened his mouth to ask her where she wanted to go, but before he could, he felt her legs give out beneath her, her eyes fluttering closed as he body crumpled. He sighed, gathering her in his arms as he stepped back over the bar.
"Hey Gary," he said quietly, "Could you uh hand me her purse and jacket?"
Gary nodded, and passed over her belongings.
"Thanks," Billy muttered.
"Hey," Gary yelled, standing up and walking over to the door to hold it open for him. "Just so you know…I'm pretty sure she was talking about you."
"What?" The discussion from earlier seemed so long ago now, as if the dance had lasted forever, or at least it had in his mind. "Talking about me when?"
"Earlier, when you walked up on us…she was saying that there was someone she could forget—someone that she couldn't let go of. I'm pretty sure she was talking about you."
"Phyllis…" He gently jostled her as he opened the car door, hoping the fresh air would rouse her a bit so that he could at least get her inside a little easier. "Phyllis, come on sweetie…can you wake up for me?"
He sighed as he watched her mutter something incomprehensible before falling back into her stupor. "How much did you have exactly?" Inhaling deeply, he gathered her up again, trudging to the front door and struggling to get the door opened. He stopped only for a moment to toss her purse and jacket on the couch before powering up the steps.
He stilled as he reached their bedroom door.
"Uh—Don't get me wrong, Billy—this is all kinds of romantic, but I'm pretty sure carrying me through the front door of the house took care of the whole threshold thing." She grinned at him as she lay swept up in his arms.
"I'm just making sure," he whispered, leaning in to capture a quick kiss before continuing, "I want to make sure we've got every single one of our bases covered because I don't want anything to possibly cause any bad luck to come our way. After everything we've been through, we deserve every ounce of happiness." He walked her over to the bed, sitting her down on top of it and smiling broadly at her. "How am I doing so far? You happy?"
"I've literally never been this happy, Billy. I keep pinching myself because it all just doesn't feel real. To know that this is our life now—we actually get to have everything we dreamed of. It's not some fairy tale anymore. It's true. It's real. I just…I can't believe it." The tears rolled down her cheeks and she raised her hand to brush them away. Her soft laughter echoed through the room. "I don't know why I'm crying," she whispered, "I'm just happy…I'm really really happy."
He cupped her face in his hand, closing his eyes as he felt her lean in against his palm. "That's good. It's my job to make sure you stay that way."
Billy looked down at her. So many things had changed since that moment. The house was different. They were no longer married. He'd failed at his job—he hadn't kept her happy. He'd hurt her…just like everyone else had. They now had a daughter together, a beautiful combination of the two of them and the most perfect expression of their love he could have ever hoped for. They had both moved on—with different people, for different reasons, with different results.
However, one thing remained the same. As he looked at her now, she was still the same beautiful, sexy, amazing woman he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. He still wanted to make her happy. It still felt like his job.
"Okay," he muttered, as he finally stepped into the room. "Let's get you settled here." Billy carefully situated her on the bed, raising her head up with extra pillows and easing the covers up over her. He paused a moment to look at her, to marvel at how, even drunk off her ass, she still looked overwhelmingly beautiful. With a smile, he moved to flip off the lamp and turned to walk from the room.
"Billy."
He stilled, turning slowly, surprised to see her eyes open now.
"Hey." He walked back over the edge of the bed, the surprise in his voice evident. "I didn't expect to hear anything else from you tonight. You've been pretty out of it."
Phyllis blinked, bringing her hand up to her head. "Yeah—I…I've felt better."
"I bet," he smiled. "Can I get you anything?"
"Maybe some water?"
He stepped into the bathroom, filling a cup, and quickly returning to her bedside. "Slow sips," he instructed.
"Thanks," she whispered, managing to sip a little before she felt the threat of the water's return. She swallowed hard. "I think that's gonna be enough."
"You okay?" His hand was on her shoulder as he watched her.
"Yeah, I'm okay." Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment before she started to speak. "I don't really remember getting here…I didn't drive here, did I?"
"No..you didn't. I drove you here from the bar." He looked at her. "Do you remember the bar?"
"Yeah," she said softly. "I was at the bar and then I think I remember you and we were…."
He watched her as she seemed to drift away, her eyes floating as if she was lost in a memory. "Were we dancing?"
He laughed. "Yeah, kind of…if you want to call it that…you were leaning. I was dancing."
"That's not very nice," she snapped, half-heartedly attempting to swat at him, but missing his arm entirely. "My aim isn't what it should be," she breathed. "I think I had a little too much tonight."
Billy widened his eyes at the statement. "I think you had a lot too much tonight. You want to tell me what happened that made you think it was a good idea to drive to a dive bar and sidle up to some guy named Gary?"
He saw the flash of concern in her eyes.
"Don't worry…nothing crazy happened. You and Gary were apparently sharing relationship war stories when I showed up."
She leaned back, her mind spinning at full speed. Bits and pieces of the evening seemed to drift through her consciousness like blips in a kaleidoscope and she couldn't get a clear picture. There was no way to know what she said, what he'd heard… "What did I say?" she asked, fearing the answer.
"I don't know," he admitted, "I only heard part of it."
"What part?"
"The part where you said Mark was a distraction…a distraction from someone you couldn't forget." His eyes were heavy on hers as he brought his hand to her face, brushing a lock of hair away from her eyes. "I thought you might have been talking about me."
It couldn't have been the weighted moment. It could have been nerves. It could have been the cool water finally hitting her empty, scotch-filled stomach but, whatever it was, Phyllis lurched forward, struggling to stand as she heaved.
"Easy," he breathed, as she wretched again.
"You don't have to do this, Billy," she whined in absolute horror. "Seriously this is asking too much." She sighed in relief as she felt the cool rag touch the back of her neck.
"It's okay," he whispered, pulling her hair away from her face. "I don't mind."
"I'll pay for the rug to be cleaned."
He laughed softly. "Don't worry about it. Heather picked it out. I always hated it. It looks like it belongs in an old, dusty library."
Phyllis breathed deeply as she felt his warm hand rub soothing circles on her back. She leaned back, turning to look at him, "I think I might be okay now."
He nodded. "You sure…you want to just sit here for a minute." He stretched out his legs, letting her lean against him, his arm loosely wrapping around her shoulders.
"This certainly takes you back doesn't it?"
Billy smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "I promised you it would be worth it."
"You were right…worth every second."
"Though, in retrospect, I probably should have kept my mouth shut. It's easy for me to say it would be worth it…all I was doing was holding your hair back."
She turned quickly, looking up at him. "Hey, not true—you were a rock star. You always had ginger-ale and water crackers and you even bought that dog bed, so I didn't have to kneel on the cold tile." She smiled as she thought back. "You were always a good father to your kids, but I knew then how amazing you are…what an amazing husband and father you are..how much you love me, how lucky I am to love someone like…" Her voice trailed off as she heard her words, realizing she was speaking of him in the present.
Feeling his body still, she was certain he'd heard it too. They both sat quiet for a moment, neither knowing how to react.
"You want to try to get some sleep now?" Billy finally offered, afraid the continued silence might shut her down completely.
"Yeah…I probably should."
Billy moved, helping her stand and walking with her over to the bed. Wordlessly he repeated the process from earlier with her assistance, carefully helping her under the covers and switching off the lights. As he moved to walk out of the room, he again heard her call his name.
"Billy…Before you go…."
"Yeah." He turned to face her.
"Earlier tonight…I was talking about you." She watched his small smile as he pulled the door to a close, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.