"N-No... don't stop. Don't fucking stop." I replied and hugged him tightly, my voice thick with desperation and longing for him but I don't fucking care now. "I want this and I want you....Now."
"I-I....I can't do this to you but. It would be...just...
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It's been three weeks, after our...'talk' and trust me, these three weeks are the happiest days of my life, till now. I have never been this happy before. I'd not say that he is completely changed now and is a different person but yeah, he's trying. He's trying his best. His efforts are visible and after all in the end, it's the efforts that matters the most right?
Now...
We live together.
We wakeup together.
We eat breakfast together.
We go to office together.
We come home together.
We eat dinner together.
We play with Sam together.
And, then we sleep together.
We're closer to each other now, than we were ever before, very much like the bond we used to share when we were teenagers or even more stronger than that.
And now that I'm back home, the very next day Smith brought our son here too. Sam was happy when he got to know that we are going to live together again.
Honestly, we both were so disappointed because of our selfish behaviour towards Sam. The way we both were sharing him like a toy where he gets to live with me on weekdays and then with his dad on weekends was so fucking depressing and I can only imagine the pain, our son used to feel when he suffered through all of this.
In this modern world of fast and rushed lifestyles, most of us forget our children. We forget that a child not only needs love but also a stable family and patient parents who are ready to keep their ego aside for them.
At that time, I was blind in rage for Smith and I wanted to fight for my self respect desperately. I wanted him to acknowledge and realise that the way he accused me, the way he ignored me and the way he treated me is not fucking acceptable and he did it. Smith acknowledged his mistakes, realised it and apologised for it too.
But I won't deny that in all this chaos, we forgot about our little soul, our precious son. He didn't do anything wrong but he still got to suffer. He was shared like a toy between us.
I don't know about others but if I imagine myself as a child who is just 4 years old, then I would never ever want in my wildest dreams to live a complicated life like this.
He doesn't say anything to us but I know. I know he understands everything and gets hurt, I could see it in his eyes.
And because of his situation, he is far mature for a mere four-year old child and sometimes it hurts to see him like this.
"Baby?"
Smith's voice startled me from my thoughts, his fingers which were gliding up and down on my bare arm stopped suddenly.
