It's Never Just Goodbye // Ed Sheeran

Change My Mind

Alice

He dropped our passports and my empty suitcase onto the bed. It was a late night for me and I was just now opening my eyes. I pushed myself up with my achy arms and rubbed my sleepy eyes with my knuckles. His eyes were unamused but he faked a smile for my uneasy morning-self.

"Wake up, sunshine." He said with barely any enthusiasm. I glanced at the clock that read 7am. "Our plane leaves in a few hours. You need to pack."

"I do." I agreed. He held out his hand and pulled me off the bed. My feet connecting with the cold, wooden floor, and I shivered.

My toddler called for me with a squeak from his crib. His face was sticky and his cheeks were red. I scooped him up and kissed his temple. "Good morning, my love."

I held him above my head and smelt his behind. Oscar cuts me off and states, "I already changed him this morning."

"Oh, thanks." I say, passing through our bedroom doorway.

"You better hurry up!" Oscar calls. "You should've packed last night – like I did."

"I am hurrying." I say, quieter than I meant. My throat was sore and I hoped it would fade before we left.

I set Finley in his highchair rather quickly and grasp for the box of Cheerios. I poured some on his tray and he slapped his hand down with a scream similar to every morning. Him and I have become accustomed to this routine.

I point to the dry cereal and say, "Eat."

I started up the coffee pot and let it heat up before I headed off to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and drown out the noise of my child screaming just to hear his voice and Oscar doing the same with the shower.

I try my best to not get my hair wet and just wash up my body. The steam from the hot shower cleared my allergies up slightly, but I could feel them returning as soon as I dry off.

My eyes are bloodshot and I'm reminded off the late night I had packing Oscar's suitcase and coaxing a sick baby with small doses of cough syrup like my mother instructed me to do. Oscar had yelled that it was my fault my son was sick because I let him play with a child at the park, but I couldn't be held responsible. If it was up to Oscar, he'd keep Finley in a bubble for the rest of his life.

On the other side of the wall, I hear Oscar continuing to bitch and moan. He is complaining about the lack of help I'm giving with packing my suitcase. He seems to forget I packed his last night and never had the chance to get to mine. Here he is pitching in because we might miss our plane.

And maybe I'd help, but I was too damn exhausted. While Finley only had a minor cold and seemed to feel better today, my worry has yet to subside. I was somewhat worried by what Oscar might pack versus what he might forget to pack, but I had no energy to intervene.

I swiftly went over my hair with the brush before putting it up. Wrapping the towel around my body, I opened the bathroom door and let the cold air hit me.

"God, Alice." I hear Oscar groan from the kitchen. "He got cereal all over the damn place."

I sighed, "I left him alone for five minutes."

"A baby can do anything in five minutes."

"I'm aware of that." I tell him before residing in my room as he cleans the bits of cereal Finley decided he didn't want. This happened every morning with the baby, it was a game to him, but I wasn't about to tell Oscar that.

I grabbed an outfit out of my dresser drawer and dress quickly before Oscar comes back in. Sneaking a peak at the suitcase, I check over everything he's packed. Quickly, I push all of my clothes to one side of the suitcase, and grab a stack of Finley's outfits out of the top drawer of my dresser. His clothes being so tiny that only one was needed.