Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Forever and ever 2. Part 2. The past.

"Dear passengers, due to technical problems, the toilet in the rear area of the aircraft is closed until further notice." The flight attendant announced just as Tom was returning from the bathroom.
"Okay, what did you do?" I asked, pulling my legs in so he could climb over my lap to his window seat.
"Nothing, I didn't make it to the toilet and threw up just before. The stewardess said she would wipe it away and I shouldn't worry." Poor baby. After the plane took off, Tom was already so nauseous that not even a barf bag would have helped and he practically had to run to the toilet.
"Oh that's sweet of her, are you feeling better now?" I grabbed his hand after he had fastened his seatbelt again and stroked his thumb. Seriously concerned. Since Tom in general didn't eat, I couldn't help wondering what was left to throw up for him. I'm not even sure if he had eaten anything today, and thanks to the turbulence even the last bit was now out of him.
Gosh... I'm just so worried about his health. After all, it's nothing new... And I'm afraid that if it goes on like this, I'll have to take him to a doctor. He wouldn't like that. Tom hates doctors!
He prefers me as his personal doctor.
"Kinda. The other steward gave me a small bottle of water and chewing gum from this airline." I didn't answer, watching his jaw as he chewed on the gum. I also didn't want to bombard him with questions and make it obvious that I was concerned, because me being concerned would be the last thing Tom wanted. But still he sort of noticed my worry and squeezed my hand, holding it tight. "They should probably make extra vomiting sinks, eh?" He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood with a bad little joke. So I played along and smiled with a nod.
"Yeah." I said, and he gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. He then looked out of the window again, but I kept my eyes on the back of his head a little longer.
Maybe he wouldn't have eating problems if we hadn't fought back then. If I had just been there for him a little more, given him the attention he needed and taken care of him the way he did of me.

After a few seconds he turned around again, obviously noticing the look that wanted to embrace him from behind, and furrowed his eyebrows at my sight.
"It's okay. I'm okay." he reassured me. Shortly afterwards, I felt his soft curls in my neck. He had rested his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. Trying to get some sleep. And only when I was sure he was all right and could rest, feeling safe with me, did I relax and lean my head against his.

~

A few hours later we landed and were picked up by a taxi. For once, I wasn't fussy about it. I didn't need to try public transport in a foreign city on the first day. Or after two weeks...

Tom gave the driver the address and then leaned back in his seat.
"Are you excited to see the Eiffel Tower?" He asked, putting on one of his wry smiles.
"Please, I've already seen it on the plane."
"Yeah but like..." He drifted off, looking down at my hand resting on my lap, before taking it slowly. "...seeing it for real. You know what I mean." I was.

I've never been to Paris in my life. My mother couldn't afford it when she was raising me, and when my father was still living with us... we never went on holiday. I remember when I had just turned seven, my father had a good day and told my mother and me to pack our bags because we were going on holiday. My mother was shocked and thought it was some kind of joke, but I couldn't believe it. We were finally going on vacation! I immediately ran to my room to pack my suitcase. Or whatever you want to call it, because what I packed were three pairs of underpants, two vests, my cuddly toy 'Froggy', my bed lamp with two porcelain bears climbing up the handle and last but not least my picture of my neighbour and me, who was also my best friend. Asher was his name. Asher Gray. He had brown medium-length shaggy hair, deep green eyes, and was 7 centimetres taller than me.
I smiled, thinking of him, us.
By the time I was done and came downstairs, suitcase in hand, my mother was alone in the dining room. She had a cup of tea in her hand and her hair was all messed up. A few snuffy handkerchiefs lay scattered on the floor, surrounding her, right next to them, sharp shards of glass. And my father, gone.

She immediately looked up when she heard me coming down the stairs, worry spread all over my face at the sight of her.
"We're not going bunny." she tried to smile but a tear was flowing down her cheek as she said it, so little me was confused. What had happened to make her cry? Where was daddy? And why was there blood... dripping down her elbow?

I was angry, so angry, and my mom seemed to be the only one who was there, so I took it out on her. Said it was her fault that we couldn't go on holiday and that dad was only gone because of her.
She didn't even try to deny anything, just let me scream at her like she was used to it. Which wasn't true, I never called my mother names, and I was too young for swear words anyway. But that day I was just disappointed, and sad, because it wasn't the first time that Dad left us...
I didn't see him again until a week later when he came home drunk at night and fell asleep on the kitchen floor. As my mum didn't want me to see him like that, she put me back to bed and gave me one of her cuddly toy shows which consisted of her pretending that my cuddly toys could talk.

But back to the night my dad left us.
That evening, I sneaked out, leaving a note on my freshly made bed sheets afterwards, saying 'I'm at Asher's' in scrawled red children's writing. She knew not to worry because she knew the Gray family. They could be trusted, and if anything happened, I was being right across the street.
She also knew that I was better off there than with her and my father, so she almost never forbade me to see Asher.

However, Asher's parents were hardly ever at home because of their work, so his grandma usually looked after him, but how can I put it, she was quite old and by the time I arrived in the evening, she had already passed out on the couch in front of the TV.
So Asher and I could pretty much do whatever we wanted and no one told us when to go to sleep.

We jumped on his parents' bed because it was bigger and the mattress made you fly higher. We took popcorn to his room and ate it while he told me one of his scary stories, and every time I thought about my parents again, letting a tear slip my eyes, he put his arm around my shoulder and said. "It's okay Y/N" for me to cry, or this one time he offered "if you want I can ask my dad if you can come camping with us next week. It's not exactly like a holiday, but it's always a lot of fun."
I don't think he ever knew how much he meant to me....

"Babe?!" Tom chuckled, pulling me out of my daydream.
"Mhm?" I made that noise, not knowing what was going on.
"What are you thinking about? You have that sad smile on your lips. Is it Parker?" Nice try, but I shook my head. For once it wasn't about my son.
"Nothing, what was the question earlier?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the topic because obviously I didn't want to talk about my broken family right now.
"Eiffel Tower. Are you excited to see it? In real life and not from a plane." Right... I remembered and thought for a moment. Coming up with-"Yeah, I guess." For the eiffel tower question, but truth was- "I'm excited about the whole next two weeks."

Tom lifted my hand like the one of a princess' and pressed his lips to my knuckles just above the wedding ring.
"Me too my Darling."

Part two is out:) Don't forget to vote and let me know what you think. Do you want to know more about Y/N's past and hear what Tom has to say about it? or do you maybe even want to know about Tom's past?
lmk in the comments;)