58. Miss Moving On

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Edited - June 27th, 2016

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MILEY'S POV

How many days had it been? Months? Time had just flown by like water. Yet, some things were still as a statue. Me.

I hadn't quite taken in the fact that my Niley had been a victim of sexual assault. She was just 10. She deserved a better life than what she was living. And yet, God had to take that chance away.

I had watched days turn into nights and the nights to another day. I hadn't quite kept mark of the time that I've been motionless.

Occasionally, Stan would come in and offer food but I would decline. I wouldn't even decline, I wouldn't say anything.

Stan needed me. Liam needed me. My newborn needed me. But at this point all I could think of was my Niley. Ignorance was bliss.

I knew I should eat something to keep the baby healthy. And so I would eat, but that too rarely. A sandwich or a chicken wrap. That's all.

I would hear people's voices down in the living room and how they would come to pay condolences. They would also beg Stan to let them meet me but I would decline.

Niley wasn't dead. She was never dead to me. They say a mother knows what her child is going through. And I assure you, all Niley's feeling is pain. Immense pain. But not numbness. Not death.

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A FEW DAYS LATER

I am woken up from slumber as the door is knocked on from the other side. The sun was way up in the sky by looking at the bright sunlight coming from the window.

My eyes were still adjusting to the surrounding when the door flew open.

"Miles..." I hear Nick softly whisper and sit beside me on the bed. He shifts me so that my head rested on his lap.

He gently rubbed his fingers through my dirty hair and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Are you okay?" He asks. As if it wasn't that prominent. I chose to stay quiet because that's how I've been these days. Bottling uo my emotions. Not letting them escape the room.

"Look at me," Nick says and it was hard to see him. He helped me up and I sat beside him. I slowly looked up at him, taking him in fully.

And it surprised me. Because he was in a condition no better than myself. He had bags under his eyes, his eyes looked sad and his shoulders were slumped.

"I don't know what Stan's been upto... But I wouldn't be able to see you like this if... I was with you," he whisper shouts and creases his forehead.

I gently nod and tuck my arm around him and hug him. It feels good to know that someone understands you.

"He thinks he's giving me space," I whisper. I did not intend it to be a whisper but that's all that came out of my mouth in a hoarse voice.

"Damn the space," Nick says and I can say he's irritated. "I-I..."

But he doesn't continue further more.

His fingers gently caress my chapped and dry lips and then his lips collide onto mine. If it was possible to feel happy in a remorseful situation like this, then I'll admit, I was.

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