“Tate, won’t you try and work it out with Nick?” Brian pleaded with Tatum one last time as she packed her things in the psychiatric ward of the hospital she’d been checked into three weeks ago. They’d sedated her, even though she was blissfully calm, and checked her into the ward- standard procedure for all patients. In the last three weeks Tatum had undergone intensive therapy and was now ready to face the real world. She now had much experience on alcohol tucked away under her belt and felt much more confident.
Tatum sighed, she’d been thinking about that a lot. Her and Nick. Nick and her. Nick. Her. All of it was a muddled murky pool of water. Nothing was clear, nothing was cut and dry. Things were gray. Not black and white. Nowhere to be found were there any instructions on how to miss this precious broken object of love.
“Brian... I’ve been thinking about it, but I just... I just really don’t know.” She ran a hand through her hair and sighed again.
“Tate! It’s okay if you can’t make it work anymore... but please, please just talk to the guy. He’s going crazy inside. He’s worried sick, and then.. when you told the security not to let him in... Tate it killed him inside. Please talk to him, that’s all I ask.” Brian pleaded, his blue eyes held something Tatum couldn’t say no to.
“Fine.”
~ The next day.
“Tate, you’ll be okay.” Leighanne assured Tatum. They’d been rehearsing this all night long. Leighanne would walk her to the door, and then go wait in the car. Everything would be fine. She knew it would. Leighanne dashed back to the car, and Tatum rapped lightly on the door.
Nick opened the door. He looked less than good. A few seconds, he was slack-jawed. “Tate?” He asked tentatively, in a voice she hadn’t heard in a couple years. It was soft, gentle, tentatively. It was like the voice he used when he first told her he’d loved her.
“Hi Nick.” She said, trying to sound friendly, without sounding *too* friendly.
“You’re okay? I um,” Nick looked around, like he wanted to say something, and then stopped. “Come on in, if you want.”
Tatum hesitantly set foot inside the huge house that she once called her own. Once was only three weeks prior. Before he’d broken her heart, killed her soul and laughed as she cried out in anguish.
Both stood in the foyer, a strange awkwardness sweeping evenly over them, threatening if they spoke. Nick eyed Tatum carefully, looking as though there were something he desperately needed to tell her.
“Brian said I should come and talk to you before I left.” Tatum finally said after what seemed like hours.
“What? You’re leaving? Tate... God... please.... God Tate.... I’m so sorry...” Nick’s words were broken whimpers as it looked like he broke down inside right before her eyes. “Tatum, I... God... I was so drunk... I never meant to... God I didn’t mean to hurt you...” Nick started to sob hysterically.
Without a second thought, Tatum wrapped her arms around her true love and soothed him. They stood there in the foyer for what seemed like a thousand eternities. Tatum took his hand and led him to the living room, sitting him down on the couch he’d passed out on just a few weeks before, drunk off his ass.
“Nicky... I know you never meant to hurt me... I understand that. But it’s not healthy for you and me to stay together.” Tatum explained, grasping both his hands and looking straight into his eyes. “I need to go away. I’m sorry... I... I love you too....” She choked on her words.
“No!” He wretched, “You CAN’T leave me! God Tatum, I love you.” Nick screamed out to her.
Tatum’s insides started to violently convulse. She couldn't stand it anymore, knowing that it would hurt him this bad. Silently, Tatum placed a kiss on his lips. Nick’s tongue urgently slid through her lips and met her tongue. Nick knew what it was. The last kiss. The last time he’d ever get a taste of her sweet lips. He kissed hungrily, anything, anything at all to make her stay longer, the kiss last a fragment of a second longer, was all he needed.
All too soon, before Nick’s liking, Tatum pulled away, tears lacing her lashes and ready to bubble over her lids. Bending down again as Nick slumped on the couch, Tatum whispered, “Good bye Nicky.” In his ears. Nick heard her, but his body was silently wracking with sobs. Tatum stood at the door a couple minutes before silently shutting the door behind Nick.
With that, Tatum walked out of Nick’s life forever. It was months ago that she’d run to Nick with open arms. Now Nick would never find comfort, happiness, good health or love in those arms again. They were closed to him forever.