Caged By Him

Chapter 89

A week later

Aurora's POV:

I lost track of time. I've become completely oblivious to my surroundings and what's been happening around me.

I've gone past the point of feeling. My tears dried up, I've become numb, paralyzed. I don't feel real anymore.

I believe my life is split in two: before Tristan's passing and after. My will to live has gone with him. I fully understand how extreme that sounds but how can I just get over him? The memories he gave me? The life we shared together.

There have been instances where I wished he was dead. Where I hated him for what he did to me. I can never imagine feeling like that right now. It makes me sick just to think about how awful I've been to him.

All I do is lay down in my bed. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't do anything. I'm nothing but a hollow shell of a person holding on for survival.

Any energy I am able to muster during the day goes towards taking care of Eric: feeding him, changing him and putting him down for bed.

I've lost all hope and longing for the future. I feel like I am alone in a dark pit with no way out. I wanted to just let myself go but I couldn't because I had a baby to take care of.

I wanted to just surrender and succumb to my depression, to the loneliness that enveloped me but I was a mother. I can't fall apart. He needs me.

I haven't seen Tristan's family since that day. I had locked myself in and isolated myself from everyone. I know I'll feel bad about it later but I'm too empty to feel any regret or remorse right now.

As I layed in bed, unable to sleep, the thunder striking jolts me out of my thoughts. I flinch for a second before my mind trails back to last year.

Flashback

The heavy rain poured and trickled down against the ground. I've hardly slept after a full day of crying.

Suddenly, the loud sound the thunder pulls me out of my slumber. I sit up, spooked and drenched in sweat. Looking around, I realize I was having a nightmare about the events of the past week with Claire.

"Aurora? " Tristan says, sitting up from the couch across the bed. He strips off the sheets and marches towards me. "Are you okay?"

I hadn't spoken to him in weeks. He's been sleeping on the couch across the bed ever since everything happened.

I'm still blaming him for what happened to our baby. How his job and his history took our child away from us.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He hushes out as he tugs on my jaw to make me look at him. I push away his touch immediately. I reject it.

He doesn't say anything but retracts his hand away from me, giving me my space. "Bad dream?" He questions in a low voice, his eyes trying to look into mine.

I nod, looking down at my lap. "Are you too warm?" He asks, his eyes staring at my complexion.

"Here, let's take this off." He says, pulling off one of the covers on top of me. "All better?" He questions in a soft tone but I stay silent, laying back on the bed.

He watches me get comfortable and flashes me a smile, waiting for me to reciprocate it but I don't.

He nods to himself and walks back to the couch, cracking his neck on the way. He must feel extremely uncomfortable sleeping there. He's a tall man and that couch is not meant for someone his size.

Instead of slumping on the couch, he grabs his hoodie and puts it on before walking over to me. He swiftly drags the armchair next to the bed and sits on it.