You and Tim hadn’t discussed your depression. It was something that was just there. You took your pills. If it got bad you’d deal with it.

But it had never gotten this bad.

You’d barely left the house while on your break from an injury. Your small orange pill bottle full of untaken pills.

He stares at her quietly from outside the room. Your body sunken into the mattress. Barely any food in your system. Dark circles under your eyes.

He walks in quietly and kneels next to your side of the bed.

“Baby please. Please I-I don’t know how to help you.” He whispers softly, running his hand up and down your cold back.