Stained ~ Book Three Of The "Meant To Be" Series

Chapter 12

"Mom! Mom!" Tiny hands shake me awake. "Mommy, wake up!" Mason says in panic. I gasp, sitting up and trying to catch my breath. I hold my head in my hands, panting as if I've been running for hours. I feel my heart beating in my chest. "What's wrong? Were you having a nightmare?" His quiet soft voice says. I close my eyes, nodding my head slightly. I wrap my arms around him and pull him up close.
    "I'm okay . . . I'm okay . . ." I whisper quietly. Mason looks confused, but he hugs me back, patting my back. He pecks my cheek.
    "Good morning!" He says afterwards, grinning. I chuckle lightly, pinching his cheek. "Is daddy home yet?" He asks, making my smile disappear by remembering the events of last night. I ket out a breath and look at the sheets.
    "Er– I think so," I reply. He smiles, standing up on the bed.
    "I'm hungry! I've been up for hours! The door's locked!" He says surprised. "Locked," he repeats. We never lock doors in our house. Honesty is important, and we must teach the kids now, that lying and keeping things from one another is wrong. Though we knock, every time before entering a room. Even the children do, except in the mornings, when they come bursting in our rooms, jumping on our beds, telling us to wake up.
   "I– I must've accidentally locked it—" I say, shaking mu head. "Let's– Let's make breakfast—" I say, and he nods. "Cassie hasn't woken up yet?" I ask him, and he shakes his head. She usually wakes up first. I swipe hair from her face and look at her, placing my hand on her forehead, which burns my hand. "Oh, darling . . ." I say under my breath.
    "What's wrong? Is Cassie okay?" He asks, his eyes widening.
   "I think she's sick," I sigh, swinging me feet on one side of the bed, standing up with Mason in my arms, unlocking the door and walking down stairs.
  "She's sick? You were sick, too, weren't you? Zeke said you were sick when you used to cry . . . I felt really bad . . . I hope Cassie will be okay," he pouts, his eyes glistening with tears. "I don't like it when you or Cassie or Daddy are upset . . ."
   "Oh, sweetie she'll be okay. Don't worry," I say, kissing his forehead. "Now, what would you like to eat?" I ask.
   "Em . . . Pancakes!" He says, smiling now at the thought of food. "Oh, good morning, Dad!" He says, waving at him and stretching his arms out so Tobias can pick him up. I try not too look at him, though he stares at me in full alarm. I hand Mason over to him and quickly walk to the kitchen.
    "Why did you leave yesterday dad? What did Zeke need help with?" Asks Mason. "You should of tried the cake grandma baked! It was delicious!"
    "That's great, honey," says Tobias in a rush, giving him a hug then putting him down. "Now why don't you go play with your blocks, okay?" He says at him, and Mason does as he is told. Tobias comes towards me, placing one hand on my shoulder, making me turn sharply, holding out my hand for him not to come closer. "Tris, please–"
    "Don't come closer," I say, my voice shaking.
   "Please, let me explain–" he says trying to hold my hands but I, once again interrupt him.
   "Do. Not. Come. Closer," I say slowly, my hands shaking horribly. "You acted so poorly yesterday, you make me sick," I do my best on staying. "I'm surprised you even remember any of it; I've never seen you that drunk before," my hands turn into fists.
    "Tris, I know– I'm– I'm so sorry, I just–" he presses his lips, and runs his hands through his hair. "Oh God, you have every reason to be mad, just– I just–" a tear streams down his face.
    I can feel that he wants to embrace me, but my hand separates us, not letting him come any closer. "D–did I– hi–hit you?" He forces himself to ask, his lower lip wobbling.
    I pull the sleeve of my left hand, showing him the bruise on my forearm, below which is the scar that I, myself did. I didn't want to see it, but I don't care now. I want him to know that I am not fine, as I've been telling him for months now, and that with the events of last night, he topped everything off.
   I stare at him with rage, though blurred, due to the built up tears in my eyes. He doesn't take his eyes off my arm until I cover it with my sleeve again.
   "I, am, so, so sorry," he says, trying to keep it together. He chokes a sob back. I don't reply to it. I know he is, but he should of thought of the consequences before devouring all that alcohol.
   "The kids and I are going to eat out, and then to the doctor. Cassie's sick. You know where the Advil, for your headache, is," I say, knowing he's hungover. I wonder how he's able to stand after a night like that.
   I wanted to cook at home, and maybe watch the new Disney Movie Cassie's pumped about, but I can't bear being in the same house as Tobias right now.
   He continues to stare at me, his face wetted by tears now, his eyes puffy and bloodshot. He must have cried earlier too. "Please," he whispers, but I walk away, wiping my cheeks from the tears that just dripped down my face. The kids have been seeing me crying for a while now. For them, I must endure through this living hell called life. For them.