2.
I hoped Timothy would settle down.
But hearing me say that only made him lose his patience again.
He was angry now, and he snapped at me,
"Ten years from now, ten years from now! Laura, are you out of your mind?"
"Ever since you fell at the ski resort a week ago and woke up, you keep going on about this!"
"And all this talk about disappearing—are you jealous of Pansy?"
"Trying to bait me into some win-your-wife-back drama on purpose?"
I shook my head fast, but this time Timothy was too angry to stop.
He grabbed me, shoved me into the passenger seat without another word, and hit the gas, heading straight for the hospital.
He shot me a sideways look and said,
"You're getting looked at this time, no arguments. If your brain's really fried, how am I supposed to marry you?"
The tests all came back normal. The doctor pushed his glasses up and said,
"The young lady just has a weak immune system, a little low on blood and energy."
"Take her home and build her back up."
When the doctor finished, the anger drained out of Timothy and his eyes went soft again.
He reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear, his voice gentle.
"I keep telling you to eat more and sleep more, and you never listen."
"Sneaking around studying till two in the morning behind my back, and now you've tested into the county clerk's office."
"So now you rest up and get your health back, understand?"
As he talked, he pulled out his phone and transferred the three hundred dollars from his account to me.
He kept fifty for himself, to live on for the time being.
I stared at the little bear icon of his account, about to refuse and tell him to spend more of it on himself.
I wanted to say, "Why don't we go visit your father together, then?"
Then Pansy called.
The second Timothy picked up, Pansy's helpless little sobs came through from the other end.
"Timothy, my pipes burst over here."
"You never went and got the marriage license with me, so my parents threw me out."
"How am I supposed to live in this cramped little rental? I can't do this. It's not my problem."
"You didn't follow the plan and see it through for me. You have to take full responsibility for me!"
Pansy cooed and wheedled, and Timothy glanced at me twice, guilty.
Still, he barely hesitated. He nodded, patted my back to comfort me, then turned and left in a hurry, taking the car keys, no room for argument.
But how was I supposed to get home?
I went downstairs, low despite myself, and looked up at the branches spilling over full and green along the roadside.
And I thought of all the memories between me and this man, Timothy.
I grew up poor and soft-natured. Back in school I turned down the class bully's confession, and after that I was always the one getting picked on.
That was when Timothy showed up. He got his right eye swollen shut protecting me.
He said, "As long as I'm around, I'll keep you safe, Laura Swanson. Every single day."
And he really did.
He bought me the first pair of heels I ever owned.
He took me traveling to so many places I'd never been.
Later, when my family wouldn't let me stay in school, Timothy worked five jobs himself and sent me my living expenses and tuition.
He put me through graduate school.
He let me change my class and my fate through study.
I became a lawyer, helping a lot of people fight the things that weren't fair.
When I died in my last life, he cried like his heart was being torn out.
So even though I already knew about him and Pansy before I died,
even though fate sent me back and gave me this one month, I still wanted to spend it right there beside him.
I thought, just this one month, no matter what Timothy did, I'd treat him well.
I'd call it paying back everything I owed him, Timothy, every kindness.
And then I should be able to go peacefully into the cycles of rebirth, shouldn't I?
With that in mind, I stopped by the farmers' market on the way and bought bags and bags of ingredients.
I texted Timothy,
"I'm waiting for you at home. There's a big feast~"
The moment I sent it, I hurried home and threw myself into the pots and pans.
I spent three hours making a whole table of the dishes Timothy loved.
But two in the morning came, and Timothy still wasn't back.
At two fourteen, Timothy came home, reeking of perfume.
