Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 21 - The Consequences

CLAY'S POV:
—
2 months later
—

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Today is the first of February, and the weight of the past two months feels unbearably heavy. I haven't left my bed, lost in a haze of sadness and isolation. The world outside has become distant and blurry, and the simple acts of checking my phone or taking care of my body have faded into a fog of forgetfulness. The pain of this extended emptiness caves at my soul, leaving me emotionally shattered and lost.

Despite my lack of appetite and the numbness that consumes me, Nick continues to check on me, more than ten times a day. His care and concern are clear in his attempts to offer me support, even though I find it difficult to eat or let alone do anything. The will to keep living feels inefficient and foreign, like a flickering thought that never leaves my mind.

Each passing day is a routine of lying in bed, consumed by sorrow, tears streaming down my face as I seek solace in the void of endless Netflix episodes.

The simple act of showering has become an impossible challenge, and my neglect is evident in my messy appearance—swollen eyes from constant crying and a beard left untrimmed, growing longer with each passing day.

In the thick of my shattered existence, I come to a painful realization that when George was by my side, I experienced moments of peaceful sleep, free from the nightmares. However, with his absence, the nightmares have returned, more haunting than ever before.

The day after I came back to Florida, I shared everything with Nick. He couldn't believe it, and I'm not sure if he has spoken to George since then. Nick suggested that I let George explain and have a conversation to sort things out with him, even if it meant we might not stay together. But I didn't listen to him. I was too mad to consider having that discussion.

Every single day, I find myself contemplating if leaving in the middle of the night was the right decision. I question whether George might have a valid explanation for everything that happened, and if all of this could have been avoided had I chosen to stay in London. The lingering uncertainty weighs heavily on my heart.

In Nick's persistent concern for my well-being, he has chosen not to leave the house. As a result, Karl has become a regular presence in our home, visiting almost every day. Their presence reminds me that I am not alone in my battles.

My thoughts about George are suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. I turn my gaze towards the entrance and Karl's head appears, decorated with a wide and contagious smile.

"Lunch is ready!" he exclaims, his voice brimming with hope. However, I shake my head in response.

"M'not hungry," I utter, the sound of my own voice surprising me as it escapes my lips for the first time in a week. The raspiness and traces of pain implanted within my words reflect the depth of my emotional restlessness.

"Listen, Clay. I understand how difficult it is, but you have to take care of yourself. You can't let George's absence consume your entire life," Karl says, entering my room and quietly closing the door behind him. He moves closer, sitting down on the bed beside me. "I know how deeply you loved him and what he meant to you. It's safe to say that I love Nick just as much as you loved George, and I can imagine feeling the same way if we were to break up. But please, eat. Right now, the most essential thing is to feed your body. No one is asking you to do anything else."

Tears well up in my eyes. I'm exhausted from the constant emotional rage, tired of the daily tears that seem to have no end. The overwhelming thoughts of George consume my every waking moment, and I feel utterly lost, uncertain of how to move forward without him by my side.