Day 56, Afternoon
Ted and Robin had just left for Montauk. Barney, for his part, had taken Marshall to a clearly fictional charity event.
Alyx, meanwhile, with everyone out of the apartment, was peacefully at the window with her trusty cup of coffee, smoking her first cigarette in this lifetime, enjoying the silence. It was interrupted by the ringtone of her phone.
It was Barney. "Alyx, I need you to come to the bar. Now!"
"What's wrong? Is Marshall okay?" Alyx asked, worried.
"Well, he's okay, yeah... But he has one of Lily's credit card bills and he's talking about lies with George Clinton."
Alyx cursed under her breath. "I'm on my way." Quickly, she put out the cigarette, closed the window, and left the mug with the little coffee left on the table. She grabbed her keys and left the apartment.
At MacLaren's
Upon entering the bar, she was momentarily transported, reminiscing about her moments with the whole group—almost two months without even setting foot in the bar that was almost a second home for meetings and fun. Alyx quickly composed herself upon seeing Barney and Marshall in a corner of the bar. On the table among beer glasses, as she approached, she saw the bill she thought she had torn up and thrown away, restored and with several lines highlighted in red. Marshall had his gaze fixed on the paper with a mixture of obsession and horror at what he was seeing.
"August 5th," Marshall read in a low voice. "Charge 1: Tickets for George Clinton and the P-Funk All-Stars. August 10th, Tennis Emporium. August 18th, Mario's Bistro and Pet Palace."
"Wow, Mario's Bistro," Alyx murmured, forcing a casual tone. "What a perfect place for... dinner." She finished as she sat down next to Marshall and looked more closely at the bill.
Marshall squeezed his eyes shut. "A ferret. She bought a ferret. She always wanted one, but I... I had this secret phobia of ferrets. It's something I made her promise not to tell anyone."
"It was," Alyx confirmed softly, remembering a drunken confession from Lily years ago.
Marshall's imagination was already on fire. "I bet she's telling... George Clinton about it now. 'Oh, George, my ex was afraid of ferrets, but you're so brave and funky.'"
"But those charges are from a month ago," Alyx tried to reason. "They're old."
"Exactly," said Barney, and his voice was pure poison. "For new charges, you have to go to her online account. You can see credit card activity from, like, two hours ago." He made a dramatic pause. "But, you know, don't do it."
"For that, you need her password," said Alyx, trying to steer the topic away.
Marshall paled even more. "I have it. It's the name of her first doll. 'Sunshine.'"
Before Alyx or Barney could stop him, Marshall ran to the apartment. Upon arriving, he quickly found his laptop and started typing frantically. The bank page loaded. His fingers flew over the keyboard.
"There's a charge from today," he announced, his voice a thread of horror. "From the Kellett Hotel. On Fifth Avenue."
Total silence fell. Alyx felt her stomach churn. Even though she knew the truth, she still doubted whether it was real or not.
"Lily is in New York," Marshall said, stunned. "She's back and she hasn't called me."
"That doesn't mean anything," Alyx said quickly, but her mind was also racing. Why didn't she call us? Me either?
"I'm going to call her," Marshall announced, searching for his phone.
"No," said Barney, serious this time. "Marshall, don't call her. That doesn't change anything."
But Marshall wasn't listening anymore. He dialed the hotel's number, his hand trembling. Barney watched, surprised, waiting to see what would happen. Alyx, with her stomach both clenched and in knots, didn't know whether to stop Marshall or run to vomit.
"Hello, Lily Aldrin's room, please," Marshall said. A pause. His expression changed from determination to confusion and then to horror. "Thank you." He hung up.
"What? What happened?" Barney asked.
Marshall looked at them, his eyes wide. "A guy answered... There's a guy in her room."
Slow, fierce rage began to replace the pain in his eyes. "I'm going there. I have to go and... Tell her..."
"Marshall! You can't go like this! Everything could be worse, you can only make things worse!" Alyx stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
"Alyx, doesn't it bother you at all? She's our partner, and you defend whatever she does? Don't you want to know what's going on? Do you want me to stay here and do nothing? Just sit here while she's with some other guy in a hotel? You're capable of that, I'm not. I love her!"
"I love her too. I love you both. It's just that I don't want you to—" She couldn't complete her thought when—
"No, you can't, Marshall," Ted interrupted from the apartment door.
All three turned. Robin and Ted were there, still with their backpacks on and soaking wet. It had started raining in Montauk, and they had decided to come back early.
Ted approached, his gaze fixed on Marshall. "Right now, you're not Marshall. You're the miserable, whiny, shampoo-sniffing ghost of Marshall. And a guy like you doesn't have the slightest chance with a girl like Lily."
Marshall looked at him, hurt and furious.
"You know who would have a chance?" Ted continued, his voice softening. "The real Marshall. But if you go there right now like this, you'll ruin everything. And she will never forgive you for it. And neither will you forgive yourself."
"Of course, even though I'm telling you this, you'll do the opposite. So, have a good weekend. Let's go, Robin." Ted said decisively, leading Robin to their room.
Marshall remained standing, breathing heavily.
Barney let out a low whistle. "Wow. Who needs strippers when you have Ted Mosby giving speeches?"
Alyx said nothing. She just watched Marshall, seeing the internal struggle reflected on his face: the childish impulse to run toward the pain, battling against that small flame of dignity Ted tried to keep alive in him. And she was thinking about her own struggle with what she saw before arriving and ignored for so long, fearing the future—whether she would be alone or if there was a chance to have the ones she loved by her side.
Ted leaned against his bedroom door, exhausted.
"Do you think I was too hard on him?" he asked Robin.
"You said nothing," she replied, but her tone said everything.
"He was the one who said 'tough love,'" Ted defended himself.
"Yeah, 'tough love,' not 'give the guy enough rope,'" Robin countered.
Ted sighed. "I was too hard on him."
"A little," Robin admitted, taking his hand.