Until the Pain is Gone (ONESHOT)

Until the Pain is Gone

My body felt numb as I descended down the stairs. The remnants of the past already flashing before my eyes. I haven't even reached the last step yet.

Another year is now coming to an end, but I'm not ready to leave things behind.

The picture of one, big, happy family stared down at me. The pain of the realization that things will never be the same the way it used to sent a spiraling ache in my heart.

Brushing the feeling away, I let my feet drag me down the stairs until I reached the living room. There, my husband stood near the wall, staring at a few more pictures that depicted the joy this home once had.

Hearing my footsteps coming near, he turned around. His eyes red from the unshed tears, but he refused to let the sadness reign the present, so he smiled.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. He'd been trying... so hard.

"Hey, baby." Derek wiped away the tear that fell on his face as he approached me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead, nose, and cheek.

I nodded, a simple acknowledgement of his presence, but too painful of a response to the man who wanted nothing but to see the love in my eyes once again.

"I prepared dinner." Another attempt, but nothing came out of me.

He gently led me to the kitchen, his fingers threaded through mine in a way that didn't make me forget that he was still here, loving me the best way he could.

He pulled out a chair for me to sit.

His fingers shook lightly as he put pasta on my plate. "I prepared your favorite." He said, sitting down on the chair beside me.

There were a few more food on the table, but I was too busy reeling on the past to notice each one of them.

Laughs. Smiles. All of it made my heart throb with the desire to go back to the time when all is good and this dining table was still filled with the joy that reverberated throughout the entire house.

"A-are you not hungry?" Derek asked nervously, as if he was uncertain if he even had the right to voice out the question.

Shaking my head, I picked the fork up, twisting the pasta around it before bringing it to my mouth. Then the two of us ate silently.

"D-do you want to watch the fireworks with me later?" He uttered, breaking the cold air that hang between the two of us.

I dropped my fork, my mouth suddenly stopped chewing.

If he asked that question three years ago, I would've gladly said yes. But things were different now.

This wasn't the same night before new year's eve when the house shone with lights from Christmas we both refused to remove until January 2.

This wasn't the same night when we'd both share smiles, dancing around the kitchen with our favorite song playing in the background as we prepare the food to celebrate new year's eve.

This wasn't the same night when the two of us would laugh silently as we tiptoed to our daughter's room, ready to wake her up and tell her that we'd be eating at the backyard, watching the fireworks altogether with a blanket wrapped around us to protect us from the cold.

It's not the same.

I abruptly stood up, but before I could walk away, Derek held my wrist, turning me around to face him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I brought it up, Aisha."

Then the tears that I'd been holding since I woke up this morning fell without a warning. My husband wiped them away, but right after he did, another would drop to my cheek.