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Warm water runs down her body and eases some of her stress. Calms her down as the adrenaline of the day leaves her body.
The physical exhaustion washes away, yet the emotional drain just surges up.
Ever since she had to save her own life by taking someone else’s, she felt disconnected from herself.
Time became a weird concept.
That day, three weeks ago, felt like a lifetime ago.
Sometimes it felt like a bad dream – something that only had happened in her imagination, and other times the grief was so fresh and powerful, like it all just had happened.
Every day became a struggle.
Getting out of bed, making breakfast, eating, and showering – it all took immense effort.
She tried to go day by day, tried to grant herself time.
Objectively, she knows healing takes time, but she just can’t see how this was supposed to ever get better.
Each time she felt like she had made progress, something happened and set her back again.
Today had been her first day back at work, and it all worked out fine.
Despite the confrontation with Martin’s sister, she had managed to do her job, even in the firefight, she didn’t freeze, and she should be proud of herself. On the job, she seemed fine.
Yet, the second she changed out of her uniform, the guilt became an unbearable pain.
Sergeant Chen understood she hadn’t had a choice, and once she had been cleared, it was all behind her, but Lucy – the person behind the uniform – couldn’t just move on.
Single tears slip down her face and run dry immediately. She had cried too much in the course of the last weeks.
The water runs cold, but Lucy doesn’t care. It’s somehow revitalising. She brings herself to turn off the shower and grab her towel.
Patting down her body, drying herself off, she steps out of the tub.
The mirror is misted, and droplets run down the glass.
She uses her right hand to wipe across the mirror, clearing a small area to check her own reflection.
Tired eyes stare back at her, she sees the pulsating artery at the side of her neck and sees the movements caused by her breathing.
She is alive.
Martin is not.
A fact she has to live with from now on.
Survivor's guilt, the realization hits her with full force.
“If you hadn’t acted, I was gonna spend the last couple weeks picking out a coffin and putting your body in the ground.” Tim's words still echo in her mind.
He was right, she hadn’t had another choice.
It was her or him.
Funny enough, with each soul-wrenching realization, clarity came back. The pain she felt was devastating and healing at the same time.
She dresses into her pj’s and finishes her nighttime routine.
When she emerges from the bathroom, she sees Tim on his side of their bed.
She stops to take in the sight of him.
He sits leaning against the headboard, and he looks relaxed as he reads the book she gave him for Valentine’s Day. She is aware it is special to him, that he uses it as a source of comfort.
But it seems to be working.
“Hey,” he had sensed her presence and looked up from his book. Closing the pages, gently stroking over the cover – a habit she had witnessed several times – he puts it away and focuses on her.
“Hey,” her answer is small but full of love.
Tim watches her and knows she is processing something. He waits for her, gives her space.
Lucy walks over to their bed and sits down at the edge of her side. Her left leg is bent in front of her while her right foot is still on the floor. It mirrors the way Tim had sat in front of her this morning.
Tim tilts his head and takes off his reading glasses. With deliberate movement, he folds the arms of his glasses and puts them away.
Lucy watches him, and a small smirk appears on her lips.
Tim just recently got those glasses, and she had teased him relentlessly for them. He hadn’t told her. He had just sat in their bed, glasses on, as this always had been the case. She had to take a double-take, surprised and slightly turned on. Lucy knew that he didn’t care, and he was okay with her jokes about the glasses.
“Nice to see my pain still succeeds in making you smile,” Tim jokes and scoots closer to her.
Lucy extends her arm and covers his hand with hers.
She caresses his wrist with her thumb, staring right into his eyes.
He sees the pain and exhaustion in her eyes.
“About this morning,” she gently starts. Tim nods and gives her the space to find the right words to what was bothering her.
“I don’t want a coffin,” she bluntly states.
It’s a heavy statement, and Tim has to swallow. Just the thought of losing her devastates him. He’s not sure if he’d survive it.
“Lucy,” his voice is hoarse.
“No, let me.” She feels the lump in the back of her throat. “We have everything sorted out. Medical procedures we want, who gets to make decisions if we can’t.” She holds his gaze to reassure him.
“When I moved in, you immediately made sure it’s our home on paper too. We made all those precautions, but we never talked about what we want for a funeral. And with this discussion, you’d never have to spend weeks picking everything out instead of grieving – processing. Moving on.”
Tim blinks. She is right, but he still doesn’t want to picture a world without her.
“There won’t be moving on from you,” he interrupts her.
Lucy intertwines their fingers, “I know that it feels that way. I feel the same. But Tim, babe –” she stops and swallows to clear her voice. “Promise me you'll try to live on. We have so many people around us who are worth living for – who need us.
Your nephews, Genny, your mom, Angela, they all love you. They need you.
And when we have kids…” Lucy simply intensifies the urge in her gaze and stares him deep into his eyes.
There is no need to spell it out. He knows.
Lucy moves to sit in front of him, her legs crossed in front of her, their distance smaller.
He looks down at their still intertwined hands.
“I promise.” He lifts his head to search for her eyes. “Promise me. You will always fight to come home to me. Promise me you’d do the same for our family if I…”
“I promise.”
For a moment, they remain silent, gather the emotional strength for the conversation both know will follow.
Tim pushes himself up to sit upright. His back is no longer propped against the headboard. There is no longer support behind him, only his own muscles holding him up – just like Lucy.
“Okay,” he takes a sharp inhale, ”what do you want?”
“I don’t want a coffin. Even dead, the image of me, trapped inside something in the ground…” Her voice breaks, and Tim gets what she is talking about. It makes sense. If he ever had to make this decision without knowing her wishes, he probably would have concluded this as well.
He squeezes her hand. It’s enough to indicate to her that he gets it.
The throaty chuckle coming from Lucy surprises both of them.
“You know. Until now, I never cared what happened to me after my death. It would have been up to my parents, and they would never have taken my wishes into consideration. They would have done it as they envisioned it. So, I just never thought about it. But know… when I realised I’d leave you behind. That it would be you, who… Suddenly, I understood that I have a choice, that it might be helpful for you to know what I would have wanted.”
“Yeah,” Tim presses out under a shallow breath.
“But I also realised that we might …” Lucy breaks, a tear now escaping her eyes, her hands clutching to his. “What do you want? Do you want to … together. A place, I mean.”
Suddenly, Lucy felt overwhelmed by this conversation, and Tim needed a moment to gather himself as well.
“I’d like that. Lucy, you know you are it for me. No matter what, there won’t be anyone after you. I’ll love you for eternity.”
They simply hold eye contact. No words are needed.
After a few moments, Tim continues, “I want to be cremated, that’s all I ever decided on – for the rest I never really cared.”
“Yeah, despite your wish to be dispersed across the Dodgers field.”
“Haha.”
“And you are way too impatient not to be cremated. Imagine Tim Bradford just lying in the ground, waiting decades for his precious body to decay.”
It feels like a breath of fresh air to briefly find laughter.
“In all seriousness, I don’t want to burden anyone for decades with the task of keeping the grave clean, but I also know it helps to have a place to grieve and remember.”
Lucy hums in agreement, “I think I want to be buried in a forest cemetery.”
“It’s a nice thought,” Tim gently smiles at her, “ and god forbid, one of us goes way before the other one – there won’t be the space issues.”
“That’s perfect.”
Lucy moves herself to cuddle into Tim's arms. Together, they slide down on the bed so that they find a comfortable horizontal position. Lucy’s head rests on his chest, right above his heart.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Their intertwined hands were placed next to Lucy’s face.
“And for the funeral, I simply want it to be an opportunity to process, for it to pave the way to closure for everyone close to me.” Of course, Lucy had yet another insightful opinion on that.
“Tim,” Lucy places her flat hand on his torso and gently pushes herself up a few inches. “Only tell my parents afterwards. It should be a place where everyone has their space to say goodbye. They’d only judge, and I don’t want that for you or anybody else I love.”
“Okay. As you wish.” He searches for her eyes, ”Are you sure?” He presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Yes, you know, if it makes it clearer to you, only invite people we’d want at our wedding. Well, the people who were there.”
The way she says it, the nonchalant and light tone, makes Tim laugh.
“Only you would go from funeral talk to wedding talk.”
She shrugs, “But it’s true. We both know we won’t invite anyone out of courtesy. Our wedding will be intimate, only with our closest friends and a few from our families. Those people count.”
Tim hugs her tighter to his chest and forces her to relax back into his arms.
“So, you not only mulled over funeral arrangements, but also sorted out our wedding?”
“Hm. You know it’s way more life-affirming than the other stuff. I’ll love you in entirety, but I also want a lifetime with you.”
The small flicker in her eyes lets Tim hold his breath. He could see how the light returned into her gaze. The gentle and honest smile on her lips made him almost cry. His Lucy was returning.
“Thank you for giving me the space, for listening.” Lucy sensed Tim had recognised the change within her.
“For what? Doing my job.” Tim is just happy that she seems to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Lucy gently shakes her head,
“No, for being you. For putting in the effort, for proving that you’ve changed. You have no idea how much it means to me.” Tim can only respond by caressing her shoulder. “Tomorrow I’ll talk to Martin’s sister. I really think it’ll bring both of us a much-needed closure.”
“LIBF- Tim understands this completely. Whatever you need. I’m here.”
She cuddles even further into the embrace and nuzzles her nose into his chest.
They enjoy the silence, the intimate closeness of this moment.
After a while, Tim breaks the silence. “Hey, Lucy. Next time we talk about any sort of life events, maybe let's talk about our wedding.”
“Yeah, I’d love that,” she sleepily replies before falling asleep in his safe embrace.
With the promise of a future, she finds recuperative sleep for the first time in the last three weeks.