Only You

Chapter 28

I can't look. Not now. I have to calm down first.

Squeezing the photos against my chest, I cry without being able to hold back.

He found photos. How did he do it ?

This is the best gift he could ever give me.

Breathing through my mouth to bring my heart rate down, I slowly take the photos off my chest.

Hesitant, I take a quick look, I immediately start crying again. I can't.

I have so much joy in my body, I can finally look at my Milo.

I rest the photos against the sheets and then get up to walk in the room.

After eight years, I see his face again. How could I forget some of his features ?

I move my hands, blowing through my mouth. Come on, Malia.

I sit back down and look at the photos.

Placing my hand in front of my mouth, I look at the first photo.

Milo is sitting in his green chair during a chemotherapy injection. He smiles while showing all his teeth.

"Oh, Milo..."

I squeeze the photo against me, trembling.

I look at him again and again and again.

After a while, I move on to the second one.

This time, a slight laugh escapes me through my tears. It's a picture of me and my Milo playing small horses. In the photo, I laugh while Milo sulks because he is losing. He was always a sore loser and when I understood it, I always let him win.

Moving on to the third, my expression changes. It's a photo I never thought I would have in my hands.

Milo, before his cancer, with his brown hair, holding flowers in his hand.

He never wanted to tell me his real hair color and I preferred him not to tell me. I wanted to find out once he would have been cured.

I discover them now, after he died.

Levering the photo, I get up. It hurts. Too bad.

I have never managed to realize it completely, I know that these photos are proof. I have the proof in front of me.

They are there to help me heal, I know it.

So, I have to face this. I must leave all the emotions I have felt all these years here and now.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, I first externalize my anger.

I take the vase on the dresser to throw it through the room.

It bursts into pieces, my heart with it.

"WHY !? You stopped fighting when we could live ! You chose death as a last resort because it was easier than fighting for life ! I've always fought for you and you gave up. You abandoned me."

Trembling, I sit on the floor, raising my knees towards my chest, rocking myself.

"It should have been me... it should have been me... it should have been me... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

I don't know how long I repeated these sentences, or how long I stayed in the middle of the room crying but I'm tired.

I get back on the bed pushing the photos to lie down.

I close my eyes, closing my arms on myself. I need to sleep.

But curiosity prevents me from doing so. I still have one last picture that I didn't look at.