As soon as Thomas woke up, his eyes were drawn to the small calendar that rested on the small night table at his bedside. His stomach twisted into his knots as his eyes rested on the date: February 24th, 2019, the most dreaded day of each year for Thomas. With a soft sigh, he got out of bed and went to his wardrobe, getting dressed in his usual formal attire and going downstairs to go about his day, trying to keep his mind off the date. After a small breakfast, he met Bea outside to go work at the Toy Shop he owned. She was already waiting for him in the truck, sitting patiently and flashing him a smile when he finally got in beside her.
"Sorry for the wait. How are you this morning?" Thomas asked his lovely companion as he started up the truck and began to drive down into town.
Bea smiled and replied, "I'm doing well, thank you, darling. How are you?" Thomas' grip on the steering wheel tightened as he thought back to the date, but he managed to give Bea a strained smile.
"I couldn't be better," Thomas said, making Bea smile brightly and kiss his cheek. A faint blush dusted his cheek and his smile became somewhat more sincere. They chatted the rest of the way to town, talking about how the rabbits were doing, Bea's newest paintings, how Thomas' garden was coming along, and the like. They arrived at their shop with only a few minutes left until opening time, and Thomas hurried into the shop to get everything ready for customers. With Bea's help, he fixed up displays, did some last minute cleaning and dusting, and turned on all the lights. Their first customer came within minutes and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief that they had managed to get everything in order. While Bea was talking to the young mother that had come in with her son, Thomas felt a tug on his pant leg. He looked down. The woman's son looked up at him.
"Hello. I want to buy a doll. Can you help me?" the little boy asked softly, his eyes diverting from Thomas' to look at the floor as he twiddled his thumbs. Thomas patted the young boy on the shoulder and smiled, beckoning for him to follow. The boy perked up and followed Thomas happily, looking around at all the toys around him. Gone was the shy child asking a question. And of course, like all little children tend to do, he talked excitedly with gardener turned toy shop owner about everything under the sun. Thomas, used to working with young children in his store, hung on to every word the boy said, responding with questions and comments to keep the boy happy. He learned that the boy was seven, his name was Patrick, he had a five-year-old sister named Sophia, and his mother worked as a dentist in town while his father ran the local library. One thing the boy said, though, shook Thomas to the core.
"Sophia was in a car crash with mummy," Patrick said as he picked up a doll, inspecting its blonde curls and dress. Thomas' blood turned cold and his face drained of color. He leaned against a nearby shelf to steady himself. Patrick, not noticing the change in Thomas, continued to talk. "Mummy was ok, but Sophia's in the hospital. Her leg got hurt. That's why I'm getting a doll! I want to cheer her up," Patrick said with a cheerful smile as he moved on to the next doll. Thomas smiled weakly.
"How nice of you. You sound like a great big brother," Thomas said, making Patrick blush shyly and thank him. After Patrick found the perfect doll and ran back to his mother, Thomas bolted to the bathroom in the back and locked himself inside. He breathed heavily as he sat with his back against the door, his shoulders shaking as tears welled up in his eyes.
An eight-year-old Thomas sat in the backseat of his parents' car, looking out the window and watching the trees whip by in a green blur. He could faintly hear his parents talking up front, something about visiting a great-uncle, but Thomas paid no attention. He craned his neck to get a better look of the rolling countryside out his window, fascinated by the unfamiliar scenery. It was his first time being out in the country that he could remember. His mother and father were city folk and didn't like to travel much. They'd told him that today was special; Thomas was going to meet relatives that he'd never seen before! Thomas had been filled with excitement for about 5 minutes of the car ride before growing bored.
"Are we almost there?" Thomas asked his mother and father. He heard his dad laugh and he pouted. His mom looked back at him with a cheerful smile, taking Thomas' hand and squeezing. Thomas relaxed a little and squeezed back; it was their silent gesture of 'I love you' since the young boy struggled to express himself verbally.
"We're still a little ways away, sweetheart, but we'll be there soon. Did you bring your book?" Thomas nodded vigorously and showed his mother his copy of 'The Tales of Brothers Grimm'. His eyes lit up as she gave him a proud smile and took the book, opening it up to where they had left off the night before."Oh, good job Thomas! Now, relax and mummy will read to yo-"
Without warning, Thomas heard his mother scream and his father yanked on the steering wheel in an attempt veer away from an obstacle that Thomas could see, and then they were being smashed into. Thomas screamed in fear and covered his face as glass splintered and shattered into the back seat, the front of the car collapsing in on itself compacting together. Thomas' legs were crushed and he wailed in pain. They were definitely broken. He struggled to twist around so that he could see his mother and father, and immediately regretted it. His mother lay limp back against her seat, glass embedded in her chest and blood dripping from her broken body onto the floor. His father was slumped forward, glasses askew and broken like his bones, his body twisted unnaturally. The sight of his parents' mangled, bloody bodies made the poor boy faint.
Thomas clutched the sides of the toilet emptied the contents of his stomach into it. His arms trembled and he gasped for air before throwing up again, the vision of his parents were burned into his mind, tears rolling down his face as he started to sob. He still felt sick to his stomach as he collapsed onto the floor, which was thankfully very clean due to his insistence, and clutched his knees to his chest. He hid his face in them and tried to take deep, relaxing breaths as the taste of bile and vomit burned the back of his throat. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, tears still trickling down and his body jerking with choked sobs and hiccups. He shook and tried to control his breathing. He felt trapped, like the walls were slowly closing in on him and the air in his lungs was thickening and turning to mud, stopping him from breathing. He leaned against the wall again, eyes wide in terror as he struggled to breathe and gain control again, try to bat away the walls and the sounds of breaking glass and screaming.
"Thomas? Are you alright?" Bea called through the lavatory door, startling the man. He quickly wiped his eyes and stood, years of suppressing his emotions allowing him to force his tears to stop.
"Yes, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute." He went over to the small sink in the corner and started to wash out his mouth, grimacing as the taste continued to linger.
"Are you sure, sweetie? I thought I heard you getting sick. If you need to go home-"
"No!" Thomas cut her off quickly, his fists clenching in anxiety. Going home meant driving, getting in a car. He couldn't do that, not right now. He would be fine later, as soon as he got himself together. In a calmer voice, he addressed his lover again. "No. I think I just had something bad for breakfast, I feel much better now. Thank you for worrying, though," he finished, splashing his face with cold water so Bea wouldn't be able to tell he had been crying and stepping out. He was greeted by a very concerned Bea, who cupped his face in her hands almost as soon as he stepped out.
"Were you crying? Your eyes are red," Bea said softly, caressing Thomas' cheek with her hand. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he resisted the urge to lean into her touch. He gave her a reassuring smile and shook his head.
"No, I'm alright. Let's not keep the customers waiting." He gave her a quick kiss and squeezed her hand once before going to attend to the customers. Bea watched Thomas carefully as he interacted with the customers and helped them find what they needed. He seemed much tenser, and his smile was forced more than usual. Bea felt a nagging in the back of her mind to talk to Thomas again, but she decided against it. He would never forgive her if she embarrassed him in front of the customers. Thomas, meanwhile, cheered up slowly as the day went on, busying himself with finding the perfect toy for a young child or helping a clueless parent find exactly what they needed. It felt nice to be useful, something he hadn't been accustomed to in his early life. Just like every day, Thomas was sad when closing time came but ready to go home and relax. He locked up and slung an arm around Bea's shoulders, smiling in satisfaction as they walked out of the store. Thomas ignored the growing dread in his stomach as they approached the truck. He opened Bea's door for her before getting into the seat to drive.
"Dinner at your place or mine tonight?" Thomas asked, starting up the engine. Bea hummed thoughtfully.
"How about mine today?" she answered, to which he gave a nod and a smile, hoping she didn't notice how white his knuckles were from gripping the steering wheel.
"Sounds perfect." As Thomas drove home, he tried to keep his breathing even. He focused on the road ahead and Bea's small talk to push out any thoughts about his parents. He fought the urge to look out the window as the green hills whipped by, too similar to the scenery from that fateful day. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and clenched his jaw. Bea frowned and rested a hand on Thomas' shoulder, making him flinch and let out a shaky breath. She looked him over, taking in how pale his face had gotten.
"What's wrong?" Bea asked gently, keeping her hand on Thomas' shoulder. The man simply shook his head and kept driving, still stiff and unmoving. "Thomas, what's wrong?" Bea repeated, firmer this time.
"Nothing," he muttered, shrugging her hand off of his shoulder and looking anywhere but her. Bea pursed her lips. Thomas looked over at her and his expression grew bitter as he turned back to face the road. "What, you don't trust me?" Thomas said, a slight bite in his tone.
"Frankly, no I don't, Thomas! You've been acting strangely all day and it's worrying me!" Bea said bluntly. Thomas scowled and rolled his eyes. Bea bristled at Thomas' stubbornness and turned away, looking out the window and remaining silent for the rest of the drive. Thomas' unease only grew from the silence and he swallowed the lump in his throat. When they arrived home, Bea got out of the truck and went inside, not waiting for Thomas to follow. Thomas stayed in the truck for a moment before getting out, going inside her house. She was getting out their plate settings, a pot of water already on the stove. Quietly, Thomas helped set the table, putting out their glasses and silverware.
"I'm sorry," Thomas said softly. Bea sighed and closed her eyes briefly.
"It's fine, Thomas. It wasn't my place-"
"Yes, it was. Concern for a partner is always justified. You were concerned for me, and all I did was snap at you in return. You were just trying to help. I should have been nicer," Thomas interrupted, unable to meet her gaze. He gripped onto the back of his chair and stared at the ground, bracing himself for...something. He didn't know what. Bea wasn't really a yeller, but there was a first time for everything. He shivered slightly as he felt her hands, small and gentle, rest on his shoulders for a moment before running down his arms and encircling him in a comforting embrace around his middle. He closed his eyes and relaxed as she rested her head on his back, holding him close.
"Maybe that's true, Thomas, but I know that you aren't always comfortable opening up. If you need to talk, you know you can trust me. But it's your choice," Bea murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Thomas' heart caught in his throat and tears welled up in his eyes as he turned slowly to cling to Bea, wrapping his arms tightly around her and burying his face in her shoulder. Bea put one arm around him and wan the other through his hair comfortingly. Thomas felt his eyes start burning and he let out a muffled sob, clinging to Bea as if his life depended on it.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, not knowing what else to say. He just felt bad, like he was being a bother and a stupid child. No real man would cry like this, he was pathetic and useless and-
"Breathe, Thomas, breathe. Just look at me," Bea said with care, cupping his cheek and resting her forehead on his. That's all it took for Thomas to break. He dissolved into tears and sobbed heavily as he clung to his lover, his eyes shut. He felt her guide his head to her shoulder and he buried his face there, sobbing hard against Bea as she held onto him. The pain in Thomas' cries made Bea want to cry herself, but she knew he would feel guilty if he knew he made her upset. As Thomas slowly calmed down, Bea turned off the stove and guided him to the small couch in the back. Thomas clung to her arm and when they sat, he curled up against her. They sat together for a moment, the only sound being Thomas' occasional sniffle or hiccup. When he had stopped crying completely, Thomas looked absolutely drained. He lifted his head weakly and started to apologize, but Bea quickly pressed a finger against his lips.
"None of that now, Thomas. It's okay to cry, you don't have to apologize." Thomas shook his head but said nothing, closing his eyes again and resting his head on her shoulder. His breathing was deep and slightly shaky and Bea just held him, running a hand through his hair and kissing away the occasional tear that slipped.
"Today was the day my parents died," Thomas croaked, his voice, weak from crying, cutting through the silence. Bea's heart sank and she pulled Thomas closer to her, listening to him as he opened up to her. "Usually I'm fine. I get sad, obviously, but I've...I've never reacted this way. That little boy at the toy store who bought a doll for his sister said that she had been in a car crash with their mum. That's- That's what happened to my parents, I think I told you that but I can't recall if I did. When he told me...for some reason, it made everything come back. Maybe it was the innocence in how he talked about it. Whatever it was, I just... I couldn't take it." Thomas' breath caught in his throat and tears filled his eyes once more. "I was so scared. I felt like I was a child again like I was back in that car. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Everything was closing in and I felt so small, and I couldn't breathe," Thomas said in a hushed tone. Bea stayed silent for a moment as Thomas took deep, shaky breaths.
"I'm so proud of you," Bea whispered, kissing his head, "for telling me about this. It can be hard to be so open about an experience like that. It sounds like you may have had a panic attack. You know what that is, right?" she said. Thomas nodded in response to her question and sighed.
"I saw a therapist about a month after my parents passed. My Aunt believed I was acting odd. He said there was a possibility that I was experiencing Post Traumatic Stress- which would make sense, I was so young- and he explained what a panic attack was and that sort of thing. My aunt and uncle thought that was too much of a bother and placed me in the foster system, so I never really got any help. I've just tried to suppress it," Thomas explained, sitting up more and holding Bea's hand, resting his head on top of hers. "It's been years since I've had one. Odd, isn't it? I suppose I was caught off-guard." The nonchalant way Thomas spoke made Bea's skin crawl and angrier still was she when he shot a fearful look her way after his explanation. She fumed and her grip on Thomas' hand tightened. How dare those people hurt him like that. He had only been a child; they should have been there for him, not written him off and tossed him out to the cruel world like he was a piece of garbage. Now he was afraid that she would see him just as they had.
"Well, you aren't a burden to me. You never will be, Thomas. I love you and I will always be here for you, no matter what, " Bea said firmly, but with love. Thomas slid away and she panicked for a moment, fearing that she had done something wrong, but her heart twisted when she saw that Thomas had backed away to look at her in disbelief, his lips pressed together, but his eyes wide and confused.
"Do...Do you mean it?" Thomas asked quietly, his tone cautious. Bea nodded and smiled at her love as she took both of his hands in hers.
"I mean every word. I love you so, so much Thomas, and I want to see you be happy. I want to support you-" Bea was cut off as Thomas tackled her in a hug, sending her sprawling on the couch as she laughed and wrapped her arms about his neck, giggling softly as he kissed her with a huge grin against her lips. She could still feel the wetness of his past tears on her face and she wiped them away, cupping Thomas' cheek wrapping an arm around his neck. The two of them closed their eyes and held each other as they shared a tender kiss, Thomas hovering over Bea and keeping his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. They broke the kiss and Thomas gazed into Bea's eyes, his own soft and filled with joy.
"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," Thomas murmured, kissing Bea again gently before smiling down at her.
"Likewise," Bea said with a happy hum, leaning up and pecking Thomas' lips again. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about with me?" she asked, wanting to make sure that Thomas had gotten everything off his mind that he needed to. The man above her tilted his head in thought before shaking it, standing and helping her up off the couch.
"For now, I'm alright. I'm sure I'm not completely fine- that's quite impossible, really, but I'm okay right now. I feel better. Why don't we have dinner now? I'm sure the water is boiling," Thomas said, adopting a joking tone as he put an arm around Bea's waist and walked back to the kitchen, Thomas knew that this conversation was far from over. Bea would probably want to suggest some sort of therapy for him, or go more into depth about his past and try to find him some sort of help, but he found himself not minding it. In fact, Thomas could have sworn his heart fluttered with joy and anticipation at the thought of finally being helped. Maybe he would finally be able to leave his past behind him and with the help of this wonderful woman at his side no less. Thomas smiled to himself as he watched Bea turn her music on and dance around the kitchen as she cooked before he was, predictably, dragged onto the makeshift dancefloor to join her. The couple danced and laughed together easily, the tension gone from Thomas' shoulders as he became more relazed through the night. He may not be completely healed, but Thomas felt happier than he ever had.
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