Chaennie one shots

The one

English.

I think I'll focus on writing one-shots now instead of full-length stories. I don't know yet, but what do you guys think? Also, here's a treat while waiting for black.

For better reading, listen to: The 1 - Taylor Swift

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Do you ever look at someone and wonder what life would be like if you just made it together?

"Yes, yes, I'm on my way."

"Trevor, can you please stop worrying. Mummy is already here. I'll see you in ten minutes, okay?" I slam the car door shut, cussing under my breath for arriving late. My phone rings again, but this time it was no longer from my son.

"You said you'll come to his student-parent meeting instead of me. What? It wasn't a meeting?" I growl, my temper slowly rising.

"Oh, so I only need to get his card at the gym? That's it, and you can't do it for your son? Our son?"

"I'm not being unreasonable babe, but you said you'll come instead. I had to postpone my surgery for this. Ugh, whatever."

"Love you too." I ended the call, then clutch my coat a little closer to my body. Winter is for sure now just around the corner.

I saw the wooden gate and slowly swung it open. My gaze wandering around the room to look for my twelve-year-old son.

"Mummy!" Trevor yells, getting my attention. He stood with his friends by the bleachers and signaled me to get his card by the booth upfront, where many parents line up with their children.

I waived at him and smiled, intending to walk forward, but found myself frozen in my tracks when I saw a familiar face from the crowd.

Do you ever look at someone and wonder what life would be like if you just made it together?

I do.

I mean, I haven't thought about it before, but now I do.

All because I saw you standing there, talking to a teacher, sporting that usual bright smile. You were holding your daughter's hand and it was obvious, even from far away, that you were so proud of her.

And I wish you knew how proud of you I am too.

Georgie, your daughter. She looks so much like you. Blonde hair, big brown eyes. Tall, slender. Competitive. Perhaps this was one of the reason why I don't like going to any of Trevor's school activities, because I knew you were so involved with anything that has something to do with your kid.

And I admire you for it.

And perhaps Mike knew too. Perhaps this was the reason why no matter how busy he was, he would never ask or force me to come if I wasn't really needed.

He knew it was all in the past, but he knew I don't like being reminded of it too.

But now, I can't help but remember when we were nineteen and you told me you would like to be a work from home mom. You said you liked the freedom, and that you could focus on our children.

"I would stay at home, Jen. I think that's what I want when we get older." I remember you saying.

It was one of those nights in our apartment, when we were still in college. Nights where we couldn't sleep because we're too pressured with making something out of ourselves. So, we would lie in bed instead, holding each other's hand. Our feet up against the headboard, and we would talk about our future till morning or till we fall asleep.