Shawn Mendes Imagines

96: Roots

Shawn's POV:

Three years. It's been three years since Y/N died. Three years since a car ran a red light, and my wife happened to be behind the wheel of the car that was t-boned. Three years of not wanting to get out of bed in the morning. But I have to be there for Noah.

Noah. I force myself to remove my hands from over my face and wipe the drying tear stains off my cheeks. I then make my way out to the car, taking the short drive to Noah's school.

After sitting in the car rider line for fifteen minutes, Noah comes out to the car, and his teacher helps buckle him into his seat.

"Have a good afternoon, Mr. Mendes." She smiles.

"Thank you, you too." I paste a fake smile on then pull out of the line of cars. "Hey, buddy, how was your day?" I ask, looking in the rear view mirror.

"Good. I have a question, daddy." He says, quietly.

"Okay, go ahead." I answer. He looks down at his lap and messes with the zipper on his 'Cars' backpack.

"What happened to mommy?" His voice is almost a whisper. Immediately a lump grows in the back of my throat.

"Why are you asking?" I pull into the driveway and turn the car off. Noah stays silent as I help him unbuckle and get inside the house. "Noah, why did you ask me that question?"

"Am I in trouble?" He asks, his lower lip quivering as if he is about to cry.

"Of course not. I just want to know why you're asking me about your mommy." I soften my voice. I help him into a chair at the island, then sit next to him, my hand on his leg lovingly.

"I heard Ms. Anderson saying to Mrs. Brown that today was the anniversary of my mommy's death."

Again, tears well up in my eyes. Noah knows something happened to Y/N. He was three when it happened. I just wasn't expecting to hear questions so soon.

"Did Ms. Anderson tell you that?"

"No, she didn't think I heard her. But I did." Again, he's looking down at his lap.

"Noah, you're mommy got into a car accident on her way home from work. She went-" I search for simple words, "to sleep for a little while, then she died."

A hot tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly, trying not to cry in front of my son.

"It'll be okay, daddy. I'm sorry for asking." Noah says, maturely.

"You're okay, bud." I assure. "Anytime you want to know something, just ask me. Now go play, dude." I laugh. He smiles a little and moves off the couch, running to his room.

I can't deny him when he asks me questions. Some kids have to know their about their roots.

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A/N:

Okay, this one was so sad and I wasn't really expecting that, but here it is...

QOTD: HAVE YOU GUYS STARTED LISTENING TO CHRISTMAS MUSIC YET?

AOTD: I STARTED IN THE BEGINNING OF OCTOBER I AM SO READY FOR CHRISTMAS.