Two faced Lover 》M.C.

Chapter 33

Sam POV

I remember in primary school when the teachers would ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up. Kids would say they wanted to be a doctor, or a firefighter, or a teacher.

Do you know what I always said? Happy. I wanted to be happy. My teachers would say I would be happy with the job I wanted to have. They didn't understand. I didn't care about a job or a career. I just wanted to be happy. That was all I wanted now, but the person who made me the happiest was gone.

I left my bags in the front room and fled up the stairs before anyone could stop me. I placed Daniel in his crib and stood over him. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. I sighed and traced my finger down the side of his face, gently touching his nose.

"You look so much like your father," I said.

My voice cracked, and I ran out of the room before I fell into a puddle of tears on the floor.

-

My eyes sprang open, and I grabbed the sheets on the left side of the bed, searching for Michael. I realized he wasn't there. That was when it sunk in.

He wouldn't hold me when I was asleep. He wouldn't comfort me when I had a nightmare. He wouldn't be there every morning when he was home from a tour.

He was never going to be there again. He was gone.

I stared at the ceiling in the dark, only blinking when my eyes couldn't take it anymore. I hadn't cried since it happened; only that one time on the plane. Was that bad?

There was a light knock on my door and it opened to reveal Luke. He swiftly made his way to my bed. My bed, no longer mine and Michael's.

He slid underneath the covers and wrapped his arms around me. I felt his warm breath on my neck and wished it was Michael in his position.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked. "Wow. That was a stupid question."

I could hear the sadness in his voice. The same went for me. I had barely said anything since we left the hospital.

"You know, I read about the six stages of grief. I think you're in the first one: shock. Calum's in either denial or anger. I still don't know what I am. I'm not in shock- well, I am. I can't believe he died. He should still be here. I'm not in denial, but at times it seems like I am. Maybe denying the fact that someone close to me died will help me get through this. I can just pretend he's on an extended vacation," he said.

I stayed quiet. I couldn't bring myself to comment on what he said. I was scared of the words that could come out of my mouth.

"Say something, Sammy. You're scaring me," Luke said.

"I never told him," I whispered, the words no longer holding meaning due to the emptiness in my voice.

"Never told him what?"

"Go. Please. I want to be alone."

"Sammy, I don't think-"

"Please just go," I said, the crack in my voice completely obvious.

"Okay. I'm right down the hall if you need me," Luke said.

He placed a kiss on my forehead before whispering, "I love you," and leaving me alone.

For the second time that day, I let down my façade and felt myself break down. The tears came in a rush, and I sobbed uncontrollably. My fear of Michael dying came back to me as I cried even harder. I guessed some fears felt so realistic that they become real.

My chest tightened, and I found myself struggling to breathe. Fragments from the few hours I spent at the hospital filled my mind. The pain became unbearable. I grabbed the baby monitor off the nightstand and threw it at the wall, pieces flying all over the room.

I cried out for Michael, whispered his name over and over until it didn't even sound like a real word anymore. My fear grew larger as it got lighter outside, indicating that morning had come. I gripped the sheets where Michael once lay and let out a scream.

People said time would heal all wounds. That was bullshit. No amount of time would help me get over the loss of the one person I loved with all of my being.

-

I had finally fallen asleep only to wake up two hours later. My throat ached, and my eyes burned from lack of sleep and hours of crying.

I made my way to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Dark bags formed under my eyes and stood out against my pale skin. My eyes were red and puffy, my hair was one giant knot.

My stomach churned, and I threw up into the toilet. I flushed it and leaned against the wall when I was done. Fresh tears found their way to my cheeks.

I pressed my hand to my stomach and thought to myself, I should've told him.

I had the chance and I missed it. I could've interrupted him. I could've yelled it out, but I didn't. I stayed silent.

I looked down at my stomach and rubbed my hand in a circle.

"Guess I'll do this on my own," I said, regret lacing my voice.

I never got the chance to tell Michael I was pregnant. The sadness overwhelmed me and left me with a feeling of vulnerability.

At that moment, I never felt more lost and alone without Michael.

I brushed my teeth and stripped out of my clothes from yesterday. I jumped into the shower and let the cold water run down my body.

As I stood there, I thought about the time when I first showered with Michael. How he wrapped his arms around my waist. How he kept his boxers on so I wouldn't feel uncomfortable. The memory caused fresh tears to blur my vision once again. My knees started shaking, and I leaned against the wall for support.

I couldn't do this. Not without him.

I finished taking a shower and dried myself off. I walked back into my room and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and Michael's blue flannel. It still smelled like him. I quickly took it off and changed into an oversized sweatshirt. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and was about to leave when I saw something peeking out under the bed.

I kneeled and picked up the object to see what it was. My notebook. The notebook that held all my darkest secrets. The notebook held so many memories.

I tore it in half and threw it in the trash. Almost everything I wrote in there was about Michael, and I stopped writing right after I had Daniel. What was the point in wanting to remember now? All I wanted was to forget.