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“Hey, can I get you anything?” Tim Bradford asks his girlfriend, who is tapping her fingers against the pristine white tablecloth in front of them. Despite initially wanting a low-key, small ceremony, Nolan and Bailey had sure outdone themselves with the decorations and venue.
“No, I’m okay, thanks,” Lucy Chen says with a soft smile, motioning to the untouched glass of tequila before her. Tim runs his hand down the length of her brown curls, fluffing them up at the bottom. He noticed that she’d been playing with her hair all night, something that she does when she’s nervous. It was understandable; they’d just been roughed up in their wedding attire. Lucy wasn’t exactly the happiest camper when the hem of her form-fitting, navy blue dress slightly tore.
But Tim can tell that there is something else going on behind her cloudy eyes, and he knows exactly what it is. He selfishly refrains from bringing it up.
“Are you sure you don’t at least want something to eat?” he asks again, but she shakes her head. He wants to badger her until she gives in and concedes, but he knows her limits quite well, and this doesn’t exactly seem like one of those times where it’s right to push her. So he skips out on dinner alongside her and slowly works his way through a vodka cranberry.
Tim glances around the room, people watching as everyone enjoys the reception. Envy silently flows through his body while he watches Angela snapping away on her digital camera as Wesley poses, little Erin hanging on his shoulder. Right beside them, Aaron and Celina are jumping their way around the dance floor as Nyla mocks them. He observes as the newlyweds make their way over to the dancing duo, joining them excitedly as one of their favorite songs blares from the reception hall speakers.
This is the first time that Lucy and Tim have been left alone all day; an awkward silence has lingered between the couple. He doesn’t really know what to say to her, because nothing he says can change what happened. Lucy should be mad at him, she should be avoiding him. But she isn’t.
A silhouette flashes in front of Tim’s eyes, pulling his attention away from the dance floor.
“Just putting my camera away,” Angela Lopez announces as she slides her hand into the bag below the seat next to Tim. “You guys should really join us, come dance!”
“We’ll come in a minute,” Tim remarks, and Angela holds a quick thumbs up before running back to her husband.
“Lucy,” he says softly, and for the first time in 24 hours, she looks him directly in the eye. But the minute she does so, he regrets letting her name leave his lips. He can see the hurt on her face, it’s so clear and blatant, as if she’s deliberately trying to haunt him. And he knows he deserves it, but it still pains him beyond comparison. “We should talk about it.”
“No, I really don’t want to,” she sighs. The fact that Miss Psychology Major doesn’t want to psychoanalyze and debunk a situation terrifies him.
“You can’t just keep pushing it off. At least let me explain myself,” he pleads, and she opens her mouth to argue even further, but she’s interrupted by the sound of a voice amplified by a microphone.
“Ladies and Gentleman, we are asking all of our couples to join our newlyweds on the floor for a slow dance!”
Tim looks at everyone on the dance floor, waving their hands and beckoning them over. He thinks that Lucy is going to stay put, as she has for the majority of the reception, but she surprises him.
“We should go. I don’t want them to think that anything is wrong.”
Tim nods in agreement and holds out his hand, which Lucy reluctantly takes. The absence of her usual death grip doesn’t go unnoticed, though. They pick a spot on the ballroom floor that’s close enough so that their friends don’t bother them about separating themselves, but far enough to comfortably converse without glares from around.
Tim wraps his arms around Lucy’s waist as she rests her hands on his arms, slowly swaying to the rhythm.
“Lucy, I’m really sorry,” Tim whispers, but her expression is blank.
“It’s fine. You can’t control how you feel, right?” she says sarcastically, no hint of emotion lining her tone. And she’s wrong, so incredibly wrong.
— one day ago
“Do you know how to use one of these?” Tim asks, motioning to a big, clunky machine sitting in the middle of the desk beside them.
“The lie detector? I mean, I’ve seen it used once… maybe twice,” Lucy answers, shrugging her shoulders.
“Well, as a detective, you’re going to need to become best friends with that thing. You have to be able to read it inside and out,” he explains. He knew that she had been on edge all day concerning her upcoming detectives exam, and he thought he’d throw one final game into their day on duty together, even if they were already clocked out for the night.
“Well, do you know how to use it?” Lucy asks, and Tim nods.
“Down to the wire,” he remarks confidently, tugging at one of the monitors spilling out from the bottom of the machine.
“Care to teach me?”
Tim carefully shows her how to set up and read the machine. It’s simple enough; she’d learned about how these machines worked in college, and it was exciting to finally be on the administrative side of things.
“Shall we test it out?” she suggests with excitement. Tim lets her wrap the blood pressure monitor around his arm, and she teases him with an extra bicep squeeze once the velcro is fastened.
“Please state your name for the record,” she instructs, as if she’s been a detective for ages.
“Timothy Bradford.” All three markers draw steady lines, not faltering in the slightest.
“Okay, the machine seems to be calibrated!” Lucy announces excitedly, and even though she knows that the rule calls for at least three calibration questions, she notices that Tim doesn’t say anything to her.
“Now onto the juicy stuff! Who’s your favorite cop in the Mid-Wilshire division? Besides me of course,” Lucy gloats, flipping her hair behind her.
“Detective Angela Lopez,” Tim says confidently. “Wait, the cameras aren’t running, right?”
“No,” Lucy giggles, and her boyfriend rolls his eyes. She scoots her chair closer to Tim; their bodies are only mere inches apart now. She catches the subtle change indicated by the machine, his heart rate has increased in the slightest.
“Alright, next question. What do you want for dinner?”
“I’m not really craving anything. Whatever you want,” Tim shrugs his shoulders, and the middle marker begins to sway from side to side.
“Wow, what a lie!” Lucy exclaims, incredibly amused. “What do you really want?”
“That was not a lie!”
“Are you really going to fight science, babe?”
“Alright, fine,” Tim sighs. “I could go for a good piece of steak right now.”
“Oh! As good as that sounds, we’re all having dinner at Bailey’s tonight, so I’m going to have to sit this one out,” Lucy winces playfully.
“We?”
“Just us girls! One last night of fun before she gets hitched tomorrow.”
“Understood. I don’t mess with girls nights,” Tim jokes, holding out his hands.
“Oh stop!” Lucy swats at him, but he successfully dodges her hand. “Alright, one last question before I go,” she pauses and bites her lip, “Do you love me?”
She doesn’t know what kind of devil possesses her to ask the question. She hadn’t realized that she’d been subconsciously thinking about it more than she’d like to admit, because part of her is relieved once it escapes her lips.
Tim sits up straight and looks her directly in the eye. “Yes,” he pauses and leans forward, “I love you.”
And Lucy can feel her heart melt. But before she can extrinsically react, the middle marker of the lie detector machine bounces back and forth.
“You’re lying.”
—
“You’re wrong,” Tim asserts, albeit softly, which leads Lucy to halt in her rhythmic movement.
“What?”
“You’re wrong, I can, and did, control how I feel.” Tim waits for a confused look to flash across Lucy’s face before he continues. “My dad used to put me through lie detector tests as a kid. Would beat me to a pulp if the machine went haywire. After the first few times, I did some research and learned exactly how the machine worked. From that point on, I did exercises to control my heart rate and blood pressure. Even if I was lying, the machine wouldn’t catch me.”
His eyes turn glassy as he thinks back to his childhood; the machines were a bit different back then: more wires and monitors. It was terrifying to be an eight-year old kid constantly asked about his whereabouts on a lie detector. His own father didn’t trust him enough to take his word for it, so he had to learn the hard way.
“So, you weren’t lying?” Lucy asks, holding back a smile behind her lips. She was so embarrassed yesterday, but she didn’t feel that she had the right to be upset. She couldn’t force Tim to love her, and she knew that couples were often at different places in their relationships. She was more disappointed in herself, angry that she let her guard slip so far down, beyond salvation.
“No, I wasn’t lying,” he said confidently, but it’s incredibly hard for her to trust him. She knows Tim, and she’s almost positive that he’s telling the truth, but if he can trick a lie detector, he could likely trick her too. Especially since she’s found herself blinded by love.
“But why lie?”
Tim takes a deep breath. “I was scared. Scared that saying those words would change our dynamic. I didn’t want to put pressure on the relationship. Trust me, if I had another 5 seconds to think about it, I wouldn’t have been controlled by bodily functions. Those are important words to me, and I think that my instincts sent me straight back to my childhood kitchen table. I just… I am so happy, Lucy. You make me so happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.”
Lucy bites her lip to hold back the tears forming behind her tired eyes. She’s unsuccessful, but Tim wipes them away before they can reach her cheek. He smudges the concealer under her eyes, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest.
Tim traces the freckled constellations painted across her face, staring into the sparkle behind her eyes, and the words are right at the tip of his tongue, clawing their way out.
I love you
“Lucy Chen, I love you,” he says confidently, and Lucy can’t explain it, but she knows he’s telling the truth.
“I love you, too,” she whispers, choking back a sob. Her hand flies to Tim’s cheek as he leans into her, placing his lips onto hers.
And god, he forgot what she tasted like. The whisky lingering on her tongue, the remnants of perfume escaping from her neck.
“I love you,” he repeats as they pull away, reinforcing it again for an extra measure. Lucy takes a step closer and leans into him, resting her head above his heart as their steps re-sync with the music.
“Don’t ever pull anything like that again,” she whispers playfully. And it’s clear to her that the path ahead isn’t going to be easy, but she’s okay with it being difficult. Because difficult means that she gets to have Tim Bradford at her six, on and off duty.