Faith POV:
I sit on the couch, feeling so emotionally drained that my head is pounding. The house is a mess, on account of the three little girls running about with nothing to do. Normally when it's my week with them, I have activities planned for every day. However, I was supposed to be on a beach in the Caribbean this week, so I didn't exactly have time to plan.
Michael cooks in the kitchen, while Jason stands behind the couch, leaning on his hands, and watching the gossip show's awful coverage about Tim and I.
"The divorced couple were spotted outside of McGraw's manager's house in a heated argument, during which Hill reportedly threatened to revoke custody of their three shared children. The encounter took place the morning after Hill married Michael Rhett, Corporate Lawyer and possible candidate for the Tennessee Senate seat in the 2006 election. Hill and McGraw have been divorced for three years, citing "Irreconcilable Differences". Up to this point, the pair had been working together to raise their daughters in a rare show of partnership, but it looks there's a bit of trouble in paradise for--" The tv chimes out, before Jason turns it off. Jason puts his head in his hands, before taking a deep breath.
"I really should be paid more for the shit you put me through." Jason releases, looking down at his phone. "So this was, what, yesterday?" Jason tries to figure out.
"Day before." I answer, hugging myself. "After the relapse... I lost my cool." I explain, already tired of talking about it.
"My assistant told me that when she called Tim that night, he said just to let them in." Jason lets out, laughing and shaking his head. "I fired her... Too gullible to deal with Tim." He announces, making me let out a small laugh.
"Baby?" Michael calls out from the kitchen. I turn around to see his smile. "It's going to be okay. Maybe just go rest up, and take some time for yourself." He says, making me feel butterflies almost. As a woman who's been a single mother for the last few years, also babysitting their ex-husband on the side, hearing someone say 'Take some time for yourself' is the best thing you can hear. Tim wouldn't have ever said something like that.
I walk upstairs and throw myself down in bed, curling up under the down comforter. The room is so cold that I'm shivering under the comforter, wishing I had about four more to throw over me. I shut my eyes, trying to get a least a cat nap in before dinner.
I open my eyes to see our ranch about a decade earlier. I know this is a dream, but it looks so real... The walls even have that god-awful wood paneling I forced him to tear down, although he grew to like it. He stands in front of the large windows opening up to the backyard. I walk up beside him, trying to visualize what he sees. I don't understand what he saw in this place... It was run-down, outdated, and far too expensive for what it's worth.
"I could see a swing set going up right by that willow over there." He says quietly, while the realtor talks on and on behind us. I smile at him, feeling butterflies at the idea of raising up babies with him.
"The house has five bedrooms, and two offices, one of which is on the second floor, and could be turned into a bedroom if needed. There are four bathrooms, one half on the first floor." She rambles, while Tim walks away from the window. I follow him like a dog on a leash, eager to hear his plans for the place. He walks down into the basement, causing the realtor to rush down behind him to continue her spiel. "Down here you'll find a full bathroom and a den. One unique feature that this house has is--" She continues, while Tim continues to walk away. He walks into the very back, before cracking a large smile. He turns back to me.
"Baby, come look at this." He says, waving me over. I follow him, before smiling brightly. He opens up the door, having to give it a good shove to move the soundproof door. "Oh my god, we could spend hours in here." He says, looking at the soundproof paneling and speakers.
"The studio was put in by the previous owner, who was a producer. He recorded rather frequently down here, and the equipment is the best of the best." The realtor informs us, while Tim looks at the soundboard.
"The equipment stays?" Tim asks, before she nods.
"Yes, sir. He's downsizing to an apartment, so an at-home recording studio really wouldn't fit well." She says, laughing as if it were the funniest thing she's ever said. Tim looks at me with a bright smile, before raising his eyebrows, speaking to me without words. I smile back and nod, watching his smile only grow larger.
"We'll take it." He announces, leaving the realtor stunned.
"... we haven't gone upstairs to see--" The realtor starts, surprised by our quick commitment.
"I think we could make this work." Tim says, silencing her pretty quickly.
"Alright. Well, I'll have a contract faxed over tomorrow morning." She says, reaching out to shake our hands. She lets us have a moment in our new house.
"Can you see it?" I ask him, knowing he can, even though I'm having a little difficulty visualizing it. He nods, wrapping his arm around me and walking upstairs.
"I definitely can." He says, before returning to the window he was looking out of earlier. "I can see all five bedrooms full, coffee brewing, and us spending countless nights in the studio." He releases, wrapping both of his arms around my waist, before kissing me. I nod slowly, looking around the family room.
"I see it too." I confess, feeling a little giddy. "I also see the wood paneling disappearing." I say, making him laugh.
"That can be arranged." He agrees, before leading me out. We walk out to our cars, looking back at the house once more and taking it in. "So, this is real now... Now you have to stay with me." He teases, kissing me again. He unlocks his Chevy truck, turning around to see me as he opens the door. "Race you home, Cowgirl." He lets out, making me laugh.
"Love you, Cowboy." I reply, getting in my Corolla. I turn the ignition, but the damn thing won't start. It never starts... I got this car the summer I moved to Nashville. It's only four years old, and has been my favorite car, to the point where I won't replace it, even with its inability to start. Tim's truck, however... it's the newest, nicest truck on the market. He has the jacked-up stereo and everything. He took his check from 'Not A Moment Too Soon' and went right to the dealership to buy it, which still cracks me up. He isn't fantastic with planning ahead. Luckily, he's churning out hits nonstop, so the checks keep coming.
"Pop the hood." He shouts, getting back out of his truck. I continue to try turning it on, not wanting to admit that this car is not long for this world. Right as his hand touches the hood, it starts, making me laugh. He puts his hands up. "She lives another day..." He remarks, making me laugh. He gets back in his truck, before pulling out of the long gravel driveway. I follow him, feeling myself have to fight a smile as I think about what we just did.
We just bought a house... The public doesn't even know we are seeing each other, and we just bought a house... I don't think we're jumping the gun either... I could really see us raising a family together in that house.
I continue to think about it as we hit a yellow light. He continues through it, leaving me back sitting at the light. I turn on the radio, smiling as 'She Never Lets It Go To Her Heart' begins to play. I hum along, before the light turns green, letting me continue down the road. I watch the snow fall down a little faster the closer I get to our apartment.
The sunset is bright, making it a little blinding. I put down my visor, before slamming on the brake, not noticing the long line of cars at a dead stop in the middle of the freeway. I take a deep breath, surprised I didn't slip on the new sheet of snow. I look back at the sunset, breaking a small smile at how beautiful it mixes with the snow. In Mississippi, we never had snow. Nashville gets it on occasion, but not quite like this.
My mind is taken away from the snow the moment I feel someone bump me from behind. I look into the rearview, just in time to see a woman mouth the word 'Shit'. I look in front of me to see the cars aren't even inching up, so I open my door. She opens her door too, getting out of her beat-up VoltsWagon.
"I am so sorry... I didn't realize it was a dead stop, and the snow didn't really help." She begins to apologize, digging out her insurance card.
"It's fine." I begin to reassure her, feeling sympathy. I look down at my bumper to see it only left a small dent where her license plate hit. "Look, it's not that bad, so we don't even have to exchange information." I tell her, watching her take a deep breath. She digs a card out of her purse and hands it to me.
"In case something is wrong, you can reach me here. I'm really really sorry." She says, although her car looks as if it's taken the brunt of it. I look down at her card as I walk back to my car. 'Kim Shelton, A&R representative for CartWheel Records'. I laugh a bit to myself at the fact that there is not a damn person in this town not tied to music.
After a couple of minutes of no movement, I grow antsy. I haven't heard any ambulances pass, nor have I seen lights to suggest police ahead. It just seems like we're stopped for nothing. I watch some people begin to open their doors, peeking around to try and see what the backup is. My curiosity gets the best of me, causing me to do the same. I peek my head up above the car in front of me, but I can't see over the SUV two cars ahead. I walk across my hood, before noticing smoke. I peek around the SUV, before noticing a car wreck.
It looks bad... There's a minivan whose hood is completely gone, flames launching out while it faces the wrong way. A sedan sits nearby, their hood crushed down a bit, and their window smashed, but otherwise, it's fine. I walk down toward the accident, wanting to make sure everyone's okay, given the lack of an ambulance or cop car. As I get closer, I notice debris leading down into the grass median. I pay it no mind as I approach a woman standing beside the sedan.
"Is everyone alright?" I ask, the woman appearing to be in a complete state of shock.
"The car was just launched over mine..." She utters, a small cut on her forehead making me think she hit her head. A cop appears out of nowhere, their cruiser apparently parked on the other side of the freeway. He talks into his radio while taking a peek at her head.
"Three-car accident on 65. One 1992 Toyota Previa, one 1993 Buick Century, and... God... I think it's a 1994 Chevy Silverado..." He describes, making my stomach drop. I look around for another car, but I can't see one.
"Where's the--" I start to ask him, but he hurries away, leaving me with the woman again. "Where's the truck?" I ask her, watching her look toward the median. I follow her eyes, before walking to the edge of the road, unable to see it until I follow the trail of debris.
I feel my breath be taken away, as I see his truck lying upside down in the ditch, the cab crushed in on all sides. There's no way someone could be alive in there... The truck went through the guardrail, flipping over onto a small concrete channel that pulls water from the roadway. I cringe, as I see it carry gasoline instead. I glance back at the fire, notice the track of gasoline between the fire and his truck.
I rush toward the truck before I hear a police officer shout.
"Get out of here, Lady!" He screams, pulling me back.
"That's my fiancé's car." I shout, pushing back. I take a deep breath, before kneeling down. The passenger side door has been torn away, one officer laying halfway inside the car. I walk around to the other side, noticing the window is shattered, the frame smashed down so small I doubt I could even squeeze through. I decide to try, kneeling down beside the car. I feel nauseous as I see him hanging upside down, the seatbelt across his neck. His squirms, trying to fix it, but he can't quite figure it out.
"Ma'm!" The same police officer shouts, causing the other officer to notice me. "You cannot enter the vehicle." He asserts.
"Wait! She might be able to squeeze in..." The officer inside says, causing the other man to back off. I somehow shimmy inside, desperately pulling the seatbelt away from his neck. He continues to squirm before his eyes lock with mine.
"Fai..." He utters, before the seatbelt cuts his airflow. I pull it away, allowing him to breathe again.
"It's okay..." I release, my hands shaking.
"Ms..." The officer says, trying to get my attention. "What's your name?" He questions, trying to calm me down.
"Faith." I answer.
"Faith, I need you to take this knife..." He says, holding up a pocket knife. I take it. "I need you to cut his belt off. I can't reach it from here." He directs. I open up the knife, before beginning to cut the belt. Tim looks down at it nervously, blood running down his forehead.
"It's alright, babe... I'm right here." I reassure him, watching him shut his eyes.
"Have you put out the fire yet?" The officer near me shouts to the one up on the road.
"We have it contained for the most part, but it's still smoking. We need the Fire crew immediately." The other replies, making me feel anxious. I slice through the belt, causing him to fall onto my shoulder. I slowly lower him down, before his groaning grows to hysterical screams.
"Fuck!" He screeches, holding himself up off the ground. I look at the officer desperately for help, while he tries to find out what's wrong.
"His leg..." He utters, before reaching over to hold him up. Tim's paled out, struggling to hold his own head up now. I look at his leg to see his jeans lead to a ball of crunched-up metal, his leg stuck somewhere in there. "Tim?" The officer calls out, trying to get Tim's attention. "We are going to have to pull on that right leg to get you out." He releases slowly, making me want to fall apart. This isn't going to be pleasant, by any measure.
The officer loops his arms under Tims, tugging slowly, despite Tim's cries. He sets Tim down momentarily, before leaning over and checking how bad it is. I make the mistake of looking, to see a deep gash running from just above his knee, down, where a chunk of metal is scrapping deep into his flesh. I try to breathe, but I can't...
"Grab me the metal saw." He shouts out, the officer returning with a small electric saw. Tim sees it and grows antsy. "It's okay. We're just going to cut the part that's scratching you, okay?" He tells him, starting the saw slowly. I grasp onto Tim's hand, sparing him a forced smile.
"I'm right here... You're going to be alright." I say, watching him nod quickly.
"Okay... Okay..." He repeats, clearly horrified. Just as the officer begins to cut, a sudden eruption of screams emerges outside.
"Get out!" The other officer howls, causing me to look back to the road.
A trail of fire races toward us...
The officer backs out of the truck, while I tug desperately at Tim's leg, hearing myself cry loudly. Tim tries pulling on it with me, getting down to his ankle free. I continue tugging, before I feel something grab onto my legs. I screech, as I'm dragged out of the truck, just in time for flames to engulf it.
"No!" I howl, fighting to crawl back inside. The officer holds me back, while the other blasts a fire extinguisher toward the car.
"Faith! Faith!" I hear him shriek inside, as I see his silhouette in front of the flames. "Help me!" He screeches at the top of his lungs. I peel myself away from the officer, crawling inside quickly before he can grab me. The interior of the car is scalding hot, flames engulfing the entire right side. I grab tightly onto Tim's arm, and pull, just as the officer grabs on my ankles to pull me out again. I cling tightly to him, his hands wrapped around my arm, as the officer pulls hard enough to free his ankle. He drags me out completely, not expecting Tim to follow behind. Half of his body makes it through the broken window, before sickening screaming ensues.
Tim flails, trying to pull himself the rest of the way out of the car. I hook under his shoulders, dragging him the rest of the way out, before noticing he's on fire...
The officer covers him in a fire blanket, his screams still continuing while I stand in horror. The other officer puts a blanket over my shoulders, taking a moment to try and comfort me, as shock completely takes over.
"You're okay..." The officer tells Tim, trying to coax him into calming down. He loops his arms under him, carrying up to the roadway, and away from the truck, which could explode any moment now. They set him down on a gurney, slowly removing the blanket to reveal a bloody, blackened massacre on his right leg. Over the cut is a large burn, running from his hip down to his knee, the skin red in the center of it. I feel out of breath as I watch him try to catch his, his entire body trembling.
"It's okay..." I release, starting to break down. He grabs my hand, and the medics put an IV in his arm. "I'm right here... I'm right..." I stutter, tears engulfing me.
"I know." He replies, squeezing my hand so tightly it throbs. They lift his gurney up into the ambulance, and I follow in behind him, never releasing his hand.