Chapter 24

                                    

                                          
Tim POV: 
Faith stands with her back against the door, the bus rocking as it plows down the road, the girls giggling on the front of the bus. She thinks for a while, glancing up at me after looking at the floor for what feels like a lifetime. She nods slowly, her eyes watering as she bites her lip. 
"What do you mean from day one?" She croaks, tears hanging on her eyelids, begging to fall. I sigh, trying to remember the moment exactly. 
"I took advantage of the fact that..." I start, unsure exactly how to word it. "You were hurt... you held a lot of pain inside of you, and I took advantage of that. I didn't treat you as well as I could've, and I didn't support you in the ways you needed." I sugarcoat, watching her tears slip, before she looks down at her feet. 
"You mean when you stopped by and..." She says, shutting her eyes tightly. I nod, my heart sinking at just the thought. 
"I was too scared to do anything... So I let that happen... I let him hurt you, and I didn't do a damn thing to stop it." I confess, as she opens her eyes again, tears flowing freely now. She takes a deep, shaky breath. 
"That wasn't your fault or a result of one of your faults. Tim, my father was malicious... and abusive. What he did to me was his fault, and only his. The fact that you saw that..." She starts, before crumbling, after trying to muster enough strength to speak.  "You saw him do terrible things to me... and you didn't run away... You didn't look at me like some crippled little girl. You didn't treat me with disgust. You loved me anyway... That was never a fault of yours." She asserts, pulling the emotion from me. 
"I could've stopped it..." I let out, watching her shake her head. 
I remember that moment as clear as I remember our wedding... I remember her telling me to stop by after school, and she'd give me a tour around town. So I went to her house, and knocked on the backdoor, just as she had told me to do, but nobody answered. I waited for a while, before giving up, and walking back around the house. That's when I passed a cracked window, and I heard her. She was sniffling and crying, which made me worry. I followed the sound, seeing through sheer curtains his hand up her plaid skirt, while she sat painfully still on the couch in her living room. I froze, unsure whether I should march inside and intervene, or if I should pretend like I saw nothing. I then thought about what would happen if someone intervened during one of my step-father's episodes... So I walked away... 
"And so could I... It's hindsight 20/20, but at the time, you did all you had to." She reassures me, before looking down at my hands. I follow her eyes, noticing that they're shaking. "Tim... I..." She starts, before looking up at the ceiling. "I wanted to die... I was miserable... and you took the time to know me while I was at my lowest point. If you hadn't come around, I'd be dead. I would've killed myself, no doubt... So when you hit your lowest, I felt like I had to do the same... You deserved it... but..." She rambles, leaving me speechless for a moment. "I couldn't risk losing our children to save you... and that was the hardest, most painful thing for me to do. There isn't a day, where I wake up and don't look at the empty side of the bed and wonder what I could've done to keep you." She releases, before covering her mouth with her hand, as if she had said too much. She shakes her head, clearing her throat while silence takes a toll on the conversation. 
"Remember that time we talked about what we'd do if we had to choose between each other or the kids? I think you were pregnant with Gracie at that point." I bring up, watching her nod slowly, wiping her tears away. "I told you to choose the kids if there was ever a situation that forced you to make a choice. You laughed, like it was an outrageous request... But in the end, you did exactly what I told you to do. I can't be mad at you for that."  I let out, her eyes shifting down toward the ground. 
"What brought you to whiskey?" She asks, sniffling a bit. I watch her for a moment, trying to remember at the dawn of it. 
"I didn't know how to handle my own anxiety, fear, pain, and anger... Whiskey and drugs did a pretty good job at doing it for me." I say, her eyes sparing a curious gaze at me, as she tries to pick apart my words in her head. "I was anxious, because I felt like I was constantly walking a tightrope... in life, in love, and in my career. I was terrified to say the wrong thing, or make the wrong choices that would push you away, and drinking helped take some of the pressure off of me. Then the pain really came from the accident... The anger... that had a lot to do with my childhood, and the things that took place between my step-father and I. I guess I was probably most angry with myself, so drinking would help tune out that voice in my head that constantly tried to tear me down." I explain, watching her nod quickly, although I'm not completely certain that's the only reason. She takes a couple deep breaths, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. 
"When did you stop?" She questions. 
"When I started seeing Sara." I admit, feeling almost guilty for bringing her up. Faith cringes, before trying to play it off. "You tried harder than anybody has with me... but you and I both knew the only person who could save me was myself... and it took hurting my own child for me to see that. I fell apart for a bit after that, but then I picked myself up and brushed myself off." I reassure her, her eyes landing down on me once more. 
"I'm happy for you." She croaks out, tears streaming down. The sight is unbearable. She turns toward the door, opening it, before walking out into the main section of the bus. 
"Faith..." I call out, but she doesn't turn around. The girls stare at her, while she sits, sniffling on the couch across from them. I walk out of the bedroom, sitting down beside the girls, as a stifling silence sets in. "Why don't you go back and take a minute... maybe have some time to yourself." I let out, watching her nod, as she stands up and walks into the bedroom, shutting the door lightly behind her. I try to ignore the pit in my stomach, but it's difficult.