It was always written ✔️

Chapter 38

She sat on the side of his bed. His hand gripping onto hers, telling her to never leave.

His quiet snores echoes throughput the room as did her thoughts.

She looked around the room, it was as if he had quickly learned to live without her.

It hurt.

His body tensed suddenly, he was mumbling now, "Mom, where are you?"

"Baby, I'm still here." She stroked his hair and he allowed himself to relax.

Maybe he hadn't learnt to live without her.

Maybe he lived in hopes she would be back.

And she did come back.

It was strange. She looked out of the window to the falling rain, her wet clothes had been stripped off but she left her suitcase in the living room. This house wasn't hers. She felt like it wasn't her home anymore.

He hadn't looked at her again. She asked him for food, he simply moved to the kitchen. No other interaction since.

The door creaked open, her head turned to its call for attention. And there he stood, a tray in his hand and a stoic expression on his face.

He walked forward as she looked away. She expected for him to plop down the tray and walk off but he didn't.

He was holding his hand out for her.

She looked up in confusion.

"We need to talk."

He lead her to the living room hand in hand and in complete silence. He placed the food in front of her and sat down, not beside her but across from her.

She slowly picked up the spoon, delving it into the soup. She watched its contents slide off her spoon as she tilted it.

She didn't have the appetite anymore.

She dropped the spoon back onto the tray. The sudden sound made him look up instantly, concern plastered on his face.

"Why did you leave me?"

He simply blinked in her direction as if he did not just hear her.

"Mikhail, I'm talking to you."

"You know what I think? I think that in every lifetime that God could have created us in, he would have always had me marry you. And I with my whole heart, would accept that decision. I would marry you a thousand times over."

"Mikhail," she cut through his buttered words. "Why did you leave me?" Her voice dropped in both volume and in tone. Still infuriated by his dismissive behaviour, she wasn't going to let this go. Even if she had to pack her bags and go on her way. Nothing bothered her anyway. She expected him to slip up sooner rather than later. For he was a man.

He made every effort to not look at her nor reply to her question.

Having had enough, she slammed the tray down on the table and stormed over to him. Anger had taken over her every fibre of her body.

She leaned herself over him, caging him with both arms grasping the arm rests. Her blood was raging throughout her body. Her brain was filled with murderous thoughts.

She didn't know what she was going to do but she knew it would be destructive.

Her vision was coated with red. Blood red.

"Because," he stood abruptly, pushing her back and creating distance between the two to of them.

"Because I couldn't handle it!" He screamed, grabbing his hair in pain.