Work Text:
Chris proposes, and Lucy says yes.
In a turn of events that he blames on some kind of cosmic karma, Tim watches it happen from across the street.
All of their friends are there. He’s supposed to be there, too. They were all supposed to have dinner together at the food trucks (like old times) to celebrate his and Lucy’s successful undercover mission, but Tim had wanted to make a phone call, to clear the air before he confronted Lucy and talked to her about what had happened while they were undercover.
So he’s standing across the street when it happens, but Angela and Nyla and Nolan are there. They’re all just watching, not stopping what’s happening, and when Lucy says yes, they cheer.
Tim turns around and heads back into the station.
He’s not hungry anymore.
______________
Lucy comes into the station the next day with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. Angela stops her outside of the women’s locker room, and they both gush over the ring and the proposal.
Tim watches from around the corner, his stomach clenching.
His whole body feels warm and achy. He swallows, and there’s a lump in his throat. He feels like his chest is full of something, too full to allow his lungs to inflate with air. It feels like he can’t breathe, and he presses the heel of his hand against his sternum as he watches them.
“Have you guys decided when you’re going to get married?” Angela asks, and Tim flattens himself against the wall, letting his eyes slip closed as Lucy’s voice floats toward his ears.
“No, not yet,” she says, and Tim bites his lip when he hears the slight hesitation in her voice. “I don’t want a big wedding, though. Just something small.”
“Aww,” Angela gushes, and Tim wants to glare at her and ask her what the fuck she thinks she’s doing, because he knows for a fact that she does not like Chris.
“Do you have feelings for Lucy?” she’d asked, and Tim had panicked briefly before denying it in a tone of voice a few octaves too high to be believable. Angela had stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and then she’d confronted him again after the undercover mission.
“Do you want to be one of my bridesmaids?” Lucy asks, and Angela squeals and hugs her friend in excitement. Tim swallows again and pushes away from the wall, because he cannot listen to this any longer.
He walks into roll call, and tries to ignore the round of congratulations when Lucy follows him several minutes later.
__________________
“Tim,” Lucy whispers, and Tim swallows as he stares ahead out of the window of the shop.
Her tone of voice has changed. It’s soft and quiet, and he knows what she’s going to say before she says it.
He knows, but he’s not ready.
He’s not—
“You haven’t said anything about Chris proposing. You didn’t congratulate me,” she says, and Tim sighs as he flicks on the shop blinker and turns down a road they patrol frequently.
“It just seems … sudden,” he says, and Lucy shrugs.
“A little. But, I mean, he said he was really worried about me while I was undercover. He said it made him realize a few things, and that he didn’t want to waste any more time.”
Tim nods.
He understands that.
Being undercover with Lucy had made him realize some important things, too.
Kissing her had made him realize some important things.
Being confronted by Angela.
Seeing her almost die.
Watching how she’d licked her lips when she invited him into her apartment.
He’s had a turbulent 72 hours, and he still doesn’t know what he feels, but he knows he feels something.
“Me, too,” he snaps, and he doesn’t mean to sound so grumpy, but he can’t help it. “But I broke up with my girlfriend instead of proposing. It just seems … desperate of him, is all. I think you’re making a mistake.”
Lucy huffs and sits back in her seat.
Tim pretends that he doesn’t see the flicker of hurt that crosses her face.
“Whatever. I wanted to ask you to be my man of honor because you're my best friend and one of the most important people in my life, but if you’re going to act this way, then just forget it.”
Tim bites the inside of his cheek and refuses to turn and look at Lucy.
He knows if he looks at her, he’ll cave.
They spend the rest of their shift in uncomfortable silence, and after work, instead of walking to their vehicles with Tim like they do most days, Lucy walks out the front door with Chris.
Tim walks to the parking garage alone.
He climbs into his truck, starts it, and drives away.
He tries not to notice how Lucy’s car is still in her typical parking spot, but he does.
_________________
For some godforsaken reason the criminals of Los Angeles seem to take an extended break following their undercover mission, and Lucy takes to planning the wedding in the shop in all of their downtime.
After three weeks, Tim is a little more numb to the idea that Lucy will be marrying Chris, but listening to her talk about flowers and venues and guest lists still hurts.
He pretends he doesn’t know why it hurts, but he does.
He wants to be the one with Lucy.
He’d wanted with all of his heart to follow her into her apartment that night, but he hadn’t. He’d wanted to end things with Ashley first, before taking that step with Lucy.
He realizes now that he should have told her. He should have told her why he walked away that night.
But he hadn’t, and now he’s listening to make phone calls about putting down a deposit on her dream venue, which is a little chapel with floor to ceiling stained glass, and an outdoor area covered in ivy, flowers, and towering trees.
It’s a beautiful place, Tim thinks.
“It can only fit 30 people, which is good,” Lucy is saying. “Because Chris wants to invite all of his frat brothers and a bunch of people from his college that I don’t know, so this limits him. Obviously we need to invite Angela and Wes, Nyla and James, Nolan and Bailey, and you and… well, whoever you want to bring.” Lucy pauses, and then tics people off on her fingers. “Grey and Luna, his mom and dad and sister, and a few of his friends. I’ll invite my mom and dad, but I don’t know if they’ll come. That only leaves a few spots for his fraternity brothers.”
“That’s nice,” Tim grumbles, and Lucy sighs as she turns in her seat.
“What is your problem, Tim?” she asks, and Tim shrugs as he stares forward.
“Nothing.”
“Clearly it’s something, because you’ve barely talked to me about the wedding. In fact, you’ve barely been talking to me about anything. So what’s wrong?”
“Like I said, Chris isn’t right for you. You’re just going to end up hurt,” Tim says.
Lucy bristles and turns back to the binder of information she’s taken to bringing on shift with her.
“I’ve been hurt before, Tim,” she snaps, and Tim swallows.
He had hurt her.
He’d seen the pain in her eyes when he’d shaken his head ‘no’ and turned and walked away.
He’d heard the hurt when she’d called out to him.
He hadn’t turned back, because he knew if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to leave her that night. He would have gone into her apartment and taken her to pieces, and he’d wanted to be single when he’d told her how he felt.
“Chris isn’t the one who hurt me,” she says, softly this time, and Tim swallows and turns back to stare out of the front windshield.
_________________
“Quit being a dick to Lucy,” Angela snaps at him a week later, and Tim scoffs as he stirs his coffee and turns to face his best friend.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. He puts a lid on his coffee and takes a sip, wincing at the bitterness that always accompanies the precinct coffee, and then nearly chokes on the hot liquid when Angela jabs him in the side.
“You think you missed your chance and you’re taking it out on her,” she snaps, and Tim glances up in shock to see that she’s glaring at him, her hands on her hips and her lips pulled down in a frown. “You do have feelings for her, you fucking idiot, and now she’s engaged and you’re being a dick instead of facing how you feel like a big boy. Either grow a pair and tell her how you feel, or suck it up and be an adult, but quit being a dick to her or she’s going to request to ride with someone else and you’re going to lose her as a friend, too.”
Tim stares at her for a long moment.
He opens his mouth to speak, to tell her what he had done. To tell her how Lucy had been vulnerable with him, had invited him into her apartment, and he’d turned her down without explaining why.
Nothing comes out, though, and Angela sighs as she turns around.
“She could be so happy, Tim,” she whispers, and Tim makes a small, distressed noise. “Whatever you did, however you fucked things up, she would understand, you know? She would forgive you so easily, because she cares about you. You just need to talk to her.”
Tim almost laughs, because of course Angela was able to figure out that he must have fucked something up.
He doesn’t, though.
He doesn’t say anything.
“You’re so goddamn stubborn, Tim,” Angela says. “Just talk to her.”
She turns and walks out the door, leaving Tim alone with his terrible coffee and the heavy weight on his chest.
___________________
Tim talks to Lucy.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and Lucy turns to face him, her eyes wide.
She’s just changed out of uniform and is standing in the hallway outside of the women’s locker room. Tim is in jeans and a long sleeved henley, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the floor.
“That’s great. About what, Tim?”
Tim shrugs.
He’s sorry about a lot.
He’s sorry about walking away.
He’s sorry that he didn’t tell Lucy why he was walking away.
He’s sorry he’s been unbearable for the past month.
“I’m sorry I was being a dick to you,” he says, using Angela’s words.
Lucy’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Angela talked to you, huh?” she asks, and Tim shrugs, smiling back at her as he shuffles his feet on the floor.
“Yeah.”
Lucy nods and sighs as she holds her purse in front of her. Her phone chimes, but she ignores it.
“Why were you being a dick?” she asks, and Tim winces because he was hoping she wouldn’t ask him that.
Because I fucked up.
Because I love you.
Because I want to be the one you love.
There are so many things he wants to say, but he finds, when faced with the perfect moment to tell her, that he doesn’t have the courage.
“I was worried that I might lose you as a friend,” he says, and he hates himself a little as he tells her the smallest kernel of truth he finds himself capable of. He doesn’t want to lose her as a friend, but it’s only a tiny part of his fear and frustration. “I thought I might lose that, if you marry Chris.”
Lucy makes a noise and walks forward. She reaches out and takes Tim’s hand in hers, squeezing it for a second before letting it drop.
“That will never happen, Tim,” she whispers, and Tim nods as he fights the urge to chase the warmth of her hand. Her palm against his, her fingers brushing his skin, had caused his heart to race and he wants that feeling back.
He wants to touch Lucy like he had while they were undercover.
He wants to kiss her.
He wants to stare at her, naked affection in his eyes, and not have to worry about keeping his feelings wrapped up and hidden.
He wants to go back in time and tell her I want to come inside, but I need to break up with Ashley first. Will you wait for me?
He knows she would have waited.
“I’d love to be your man of honor, if it’s not too late,” he finds himself saying, because if he can’t have her, then he wants to be as close to her as he can get.
Lucy grins. Her smile lights up the entire hallway, and Tim falls a little bit more in love with her.
“I’d like that,” she says, and Tim nods as he takes a step away from her.
“Call me,” he says, and Lucy nods, holding her purse closer to her chest as her phone chimes a second time. She reaches for it and greets Chris enthusiastically as she walks toward the door to the precinct, and Tim tries to breathe as the weight on his chest intensifies.
___________________
Lucy calls him later that night and tells him that she and Chris have set a date.
June 23rd.
One month and seventeen days away.
Tim hangs up the phone and sits on the floor of his kitchen, unable to breathe or move or even think.
Kojo bounds over and licks his face, and Tim wraps his arms around the dog.
His dog.
Lucy’s dog.
Their dog.
“Hey, buddy,” he whispers, and maybe it’s because Kojo is a dog and can’t understand or respond to him, but he finds himself telling the boy everything. “I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. We went undercover and it was … nice. It was nice, being able to touch Lucy and kiss her and hold her. It was easy. And then we came home and Lucy opened the door and asked me to come inside, and I said no. I… I was trying to do the right thing. I was going to break up with Ashley and then talk to Lucy, but I fucked up, and now she’s gonna marry Chris. She’s gonna marry Chris even though I don’t think she loves him, but I hurt her, Koj. I hurt her and all she deserves is to be happy. She deserves someone who won’t hurt her. And maybe that is Chris. Fuck, I don’t know. But now I can’t say anything. It’s too late, and I can’t hurt her again. Less than two months, boy.”
Kojo whines, and while Tim knows the dog doesn’t understand a word he’s saying, he finds himself leaning further into Kojo. He breathes in his familiar scent, the vanilla oat shampoo Lucy likes to buy for him, and takes in a deep, shaking breath.
He’s in love with Lucy.
And he fucked up his chance with her.
He cries on the kitchen floor, drinks three beers, and passes out.
When he wakes up, he carefully packs away his feelings in a little box in the back of his heart, and vows to be the best man of honor Lucy could possibly ask for.
_________________
“No,” he says, and Lucy throws him a look in the mirror as she smooths down the fabric of the sixth wedding dress she’s tried on.
“Why not, Tim? You’ve vetoed every single one I’ve tried on.”
“You look like Frosty the Snowman,” Tim says, deadpan, and Lucy laughs as she looks at herself in the mirror again and the puffy, fluffy dress she’s wearing.
“I do, don’t I?” she asks, and Tim grins as he nods. He’s sitting on one of the chairs in the middle of the dress shop, his chest aching despite how firmly he’s closed and locked the box containing his love for Lucy.
Seeing her try on wedding dresses is a lot harder than he’d imagined it would be.
“Try on that one,” he says, pointing to a dress hanging on the opposite wall. There’s still several more, but Tim has been unable to take his eyes off of this specific one. It’s strapless, floor length, and Tim knows it’s going to hug Lucy’s curves perfectly. There’s a slit up the side of the dress, almost all the way to her thigh, and the train is short but elegant, the material of the back of the dress shimmery and silky where the front is of a softer material.
He knows it’s going to be the one, and while it’s going to really fucking hurt seeing Lucy smile and celebrate finding her dress, the dress she’ll wear while marrying Chris, he doesn’t think he can handle this much longer.
Lucy nods and takes the one he’s pointing at into the changing room.
Tim closes his eyes and leans back in the chair, propping his feet up on the stool in front of him. He presses his heels into his eyes until he sees stars, and spends the ten minutes it takes Lucy to change out of the puffy monstrosity and into her new dress trying to convince himself that he can do this.
“Tim?”
Lucy’s voice, soft and reverent, washes over him, and Tim opens his eyes to see Lucy walking across the soft, carpeted floor of the dressing room and toward him.
She’s fucking beautiful.
She’s perfect.
She’s a vision. A ray of sunshine.
She’s everything he’s ever wanted.
“It’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. Lucy smiles, her cheeks pink, as she twirls in front of the mirror.
“It is, isn’t it?” she asks, and Tim is too entrenched in his own pain to see the flicker of uncertainty in Lucy’s eyes. He doesn’t notice the way she bites her lip, or how her gaze slides to him and then away again.
He nods and swallows the lump in his throat.
“It’s the one.”
You’re the one, he wants to say.
He doesn’t.
_________________
Lucy and Chris are yelling at each other in the kitchen.
Tim is sitting on Lucy’s couch, trying to ignore the chaos as he flips through the guest list.
“Why does it matter?” Chris asks, and Lucy scoffs as she sets down the pot of pasta she’s made heavily on the counter.
“Because they’re my parents, Chris.”
“You didn’t really want them to come in the first place,” he points out, and Tim bites his lip as Chris continues to dig himself deeper and deeper into a hole.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, Chris. God, you’re so insensitive sometimes! They’re my mom and dad, and they RSVP’d as ‘no’. That hurts, OK, and the fact that you’re not sympathetic in the least is really fucking pissing me off.”
Chris rolls his eyes and Tim wants to punch him a little bit.
“They’re terrible to you, baby. We don’t want them there, anyway. They’ll ruin our day.”
“That’s not the point, Chris,” Lucy says, and the shift in her tone of voice has Tim turning to look at them. She just sounds tired now, and he wants to make everything better for her. He wants to do more than make the seating chart for her wedding.
He wants to hold her and let her cry, because he knows she’s deeply hurt by her parent’s rejection.
“Then what is the point, Lucy, because you told me that you didn’t really want them there, but now you’re upset they said they aren’t coming? God, make up your mind!”
Tim stands from the couch, but before he can pummel Chris, Lucy throws down the hand towel she had been drying her hands on and points to the door.
“Go away,” she says, and her tone leaves no room for argument.
Chris argues, anyway.
“Lucy,” he tries, but she shakes her head.
“No. Go. I don’t want to see you right now. Tim and I will finish the seating chart, and you can try calling me tomorrow. Maybe I won’t be as pissed at you then.”
Chris looks befuddled, but he leaves.
Lucy slams the door behind him and then sits on the couch, two feet of space between her and Tim. She stares at him with wide, moist eyes, and Tim makes a noise as he reaches for her.
“Come here,” he whispers, and the first sob breaks free as Lucy collapses into his arms.
“Tim,” she gasps, and he hums as he runs his fingers through her hair. “They said no. I’m getting married, and they don’t even want to be there.”
“I know,” Tim says, and he may not know the exact brand of shitty that Lucy’s parents are, but he knows about shitty parents in general. “I know.”
Lucy cries, and Tim holds her.
Before he leaves she crosses out the day on her calendar, and Tim feels his heart break a little bit.
Seven more days.
_________________
Tim makes it all the way up until the day before the wedding before even he isn’t strong enough to fight his feelings any longer.
He wakes up and thinks about everything he has to do. They have the rehearsal dinner tonight, then Lucy is staying with him because they’re driving together to the venue in the morning so he can help her get ready.
He wakes up, and he has a panic attack.
He calls Angela when he can breathe again, and cries on the phone for several minutes.
“Tim. You have to tell her,” Angela says, and Tim shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see him.
“I can’t. It’s too late.”
“She hasn’t said ‘I do’ yet. It’s not too late, Tim.”
“I hurt her.”
“And you’ll probably hurt her a hundred more times, Tim. You’re human. But you love her. You love her and she’s been waiting on you, you idiot. You walked away. There was no way she was going to try again, not after that. It was up to you to make the next move, and she’s been waiting, but she’s going to marry Chris, Tim. She’s going to marry him tomorrow.”
“I can’t go to the wedding,” he says, and Angela makes a noise in her throat. When she speaks again, she sounds frustrated.
“Tim! There shouldn’t even be a wedding! I thought you would have figured it out long before now, but you’re even more stubborn than I gave you credit for. Talk to her, Tim, I am begging you.”
Tim doesn’t say anything else, because he can’t.
_______________
He makes it through the rehearsal, forcing a smile the entire time.
He makes it through the drive back to his house.
He makes it all the way up until Lucy walks into the living room wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants, makeup removed and hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders.
She smiles at him, and there’s just the smallest tinge of sadness in her eyes.
“Goodnight, Tim,” she says, and he nods from where he’s standing beside the couch. He’d won the argument about sleeping on the couch this time, and Lucy is just heading into his bedroom when he breaks.
His throat hurts with all of the words he isn’t saying. He feels like his heart is going to explode, and he can’t breathe. His fingers and toes are tingling, and the words he’s been fighting for months come tumbling out in a mess of tears and deep, heaving sobs.
“I can’t go to your wedding tomorrow,” he whispers, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she pauses in the doorway of his bedroom. “I can’t, Lucy. I can’t watch you marry another man. I can’t give you away. I can’t … I cannot do it.”
“Tim,” Lucy breathes, but Tim shakes his head as he wraps his arms around his chest and continues, unable to stop now that he’s started.
“I was going to break up with Ashley,” he says, and he knows it’s too little, too late (three months too late, to be exact), but he needs her to know. “I walked away because I wanted to break up with her before I followed you inside. That night, t-the night Chris proposed, I was late because I was on the phone with her. I broke up with her and I was going to talk to you, but then I saw him proposing and I walked away.”
Lucy is crying, tears falling silently down her cheeks as she stares at Tim with wide eyes.
“I love you, Lucy. I am so goddamn in love with you that it hurts. I love you, and I can’t go to your wedding tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
The room is quiet for several moments.
Even Kojo, in his dog bed in the corner, is utterly silent.
Eventually, though, Lucy finds her words, and Tim winces because he’d expected a lot of things from her, but he hadn’t expected anger.
(He should have expected anger.)
“What the actual fuck, Tim?” she shouts, and he flinches and takes a step back as she stalks toward him. Her finger is pressing into his chest, her gaze fiery as she presses into his space. “You walked away from me! Tim, you have no idea how much that fucking hurt. I invited you in. I was clear why I was inviting you in. You said no and walked away. You left me without saying a fucking word. Why didn’t you say anything? You could have told me all of this three months ago.”
Tim opens his mouth to respond, but Lucy doesn’t give him time.
“I was really, really hurt, Tim. I was vulnerable with you and you turned me down. So when Chris said he loved me and wanted to marry me, I though, why the fuck not? I’ve been alone for so long. For so long, Tim. I’ve had one shitty relationship after the other, and then I thought, maybe. After our undercover mission, I thought maybe this is it. Maybe he feels the same way. And then you turned your back on me. Chris isn’t who I am in love with, but I thought, maybe I could learn to love him.”
Tim nods. He stares at the floor, his eyes burning as he listens to all of the (very reasonable) reasons Lucy is angry with him.
“I just… god, Tim. I can’t even talk to you right now.”
Tim listens as Lucy stomps into his bedroom and slams the door behind her.
He crawls onto the couch, and goes to sleep alone.
___________________
Around 3 am, his bedroom door creaks open and Lucy tiptoes out.
Tim hasn’t slept for a single second, and he’s hyper aware of her every moment.
He pretends to be asleep, because if she’s just getting up to go to the bathroom or to get a snack or a drink, he doesn’t want to make her feel awkward.
She walks right up to the couch and stops.
Tim opens his eyes and stares at her, and he hates himself a little bit when he sees her red eyes and swollen cheeks.
She’s been crying, and all he wants to do is hold her but he knows he’s lost that privilege.
“Tim,” she says, and her voice cracks as she speaks. Tim sits up, letting the blankets fall away from his body, and swallows thickly before meeting Lucy’s eyes.
“Hey,” he whispers.
He hopes he hasn’t ruined their friendship, but he’s worried that maybe he has.
He wouldn’t blame her, if she didn’t ever want to speak to him again.
Lucy, though, has always managed to surprise him.
She holds out a hand to Tim, and when he reaches out and entwines their fingers, she lets out a sob and collapses into his chest.
He holds her for several minutes, and when she stands she tugs him to his feet, too, and then hauls him into the bedroom with her. Kojo follows, jumping up on the bed and settling at the foot as Lucy lays down and pulls back the blankets.
Tim knows there’s a lot to talk about.
He knows this won’t be an easy road, but he thinks it might be worth it.
He crawls into the bed beside Lucy and wraps his arms around her.
__________________
When he wakes up in the morning, Tim’s head is pounding. He’s stuffed up and achy from all the crying he’d done the night before.
But his headache isn’t the worst thing he wakes up to.
He wakes up to an empty bed.
He sighs and lays back, pressing his hand over his eyes.
He should have known.
Just because she wanted comfort last night doesn't mean that anything has changed.
It doesn't mean that she's not going to marry Chris.
She’s gone, and he’s going to have to find a way to move on without her. He’s going to have to find a way to pick up the pieces and walk around every day even though he’s not even entirely sure that he’s a whole person anymore.
He thinks maybe he’ll take Kojo on a long hike today. A really, really long hike. He’ll get lost in the woods, alone with his thoughts, and try not to think about Lucy marrying Chris.
He hears Kojo’s paws skittering on the tile in the kitchen and sighs, because he knows he needs to get up and let the dog out. It’s been a while since he peed on the floor, but Tim doesn’t think he can handle that right now on top of everything else.
He throws the blankets off and stands up, groaning at the head rush that accompanies the movement.
He walks into the living room, eyes the blankets and pillows on the couch he’d abandoned in the middle of the night, and then into the kitchen.
His breath catches, and he’s sure he makes a noise but he can’t really be bothered to give a fuck when he sees her standing in the middle of the kitchen, still wearing his clothes, sipping a cop of coffee.
“Lucy,” he gasps, and she turns around, eyes wide in surprise. “I thought you left.”
Lucy shakes her head, putting the coffee down on the counter before walking up to him. She doesn’t touch him; her hands remain unmoving at her sides, but she looks up at him with emotion clear in her eyes.
“I called Chris,” she says, and Tim licks his lips as he stares at her.
He doesn’t dare hope.
(He hopes a little bit, anyway.)
“And?” he asks.
“And I called the wedding off,” she says, and Tim breathes a sigh of relief, his whole body sagging as he lurches forward and wraps his arms around Lucy. She chuckles and lays her head on his chest, hugging him back.
“Thank god,” he whispers, and Lucy hums as he rocks her back and forth. Kojo skitters around their feet, but Tim ignores him because Lucy isn’t marrying Chris.
She pulls back after several seconds and steps out of his arms, but she’s still smiling at him so Tim can still breathe.
“I need… I need some time, though,” she says, and Tim nods, eyes wide.
He’ll give her whatever she needs. Whatever she wants.
“OK,” he agrees easily.
“Woof!” Kojo adds.
Lucy laughs and then reaches out for her mug of coffee again.
“I need some time to just be me. To work through all of… this. I do love you, Tim, and I’m not saying no. I just need time.”
Tim nods again. He wants more than anything to take her back in his arms, to kiss her and apologize over and over and over again for being such an idiot, but he doesn’t.
He can wait.
He’ll give her as much time as she needs.
She kisses him on the cheek when she leaves.
Tim closes the door behind her, and for the first time in three months, he feels like he can breathe freely.