Baby Mendes//S.M.

Chapter Seven - I wanted to scream so loud I might as well wake up the dead.

Mel's POV                                                                                                                            -------------------------

Today.

Today. Is. The. Day.

The day, I confront Shawn. I figure out if he still cares about me (doubt it) if he still loves me (doubt it) and if he will change (doubt it).

Because this family may or may not go down, and with all the hope I have left, I sure as hell hope it won't.

But who's to say that opposite day won't pop up and turn everything around?

Anyone but me, I guess.

I am lying in bed, in my pyjamas, and Shawn in his sweatpants with no shirt, and his arm was draped over my stomach. He is snoring very lightly, and I'm lying wide awake. I look over at my alarm clock.

8:29 am 15/1

It was the fifteenth of January, and Shawn was leaving tomorrow, and the girls' birthday was very very soon. The first of February. Either Shawn would be here, or he would be on the road, video calling for the girls' birthday because he decided not to change.

The time only seems to go by slow, but it passes by quicker than I thought because soon enough, the alarm was screaming that it was noon, and we had to get up for the day. Shawn groaned, rolling over to press the dismiss button on the alarm clock. He rolled back over to see me already wide awake, and his eyes slowly became bigger.

"You're already up, baby?" He said, and I nodded.

"I've been up for a while," I said, as calmy as possible, because right now, I wanted to scream so loud I might as well wake up the dead.

"Oh, okay." He said, climbing out of bed. He walked over to the closet, picking out a shirt to slide on.

I waited in bed until he left, so I could change. Even after four years of marriage, you'd think I'd be able to get undressed in front of him. But with proof of him cheating, I did not want to be another body he saw naked.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" He asked, putting on deodorant.

"Yeah, when you leave the room," I said.

Shit.

"Baby, you're fine, I'm not gonna bite." He said, shooting a wink as he walked into the bathroom to shave.

Blech

"Like you haven't already," I mumble, but he hears. I jump out of bed, still in my pyjamas, and I scurry downstairs, knowing he is most likely going to follow.

When I get down there, my breathing is heavy, and tears threatened my eyes, but nothing spills. Shawn comes down and he looks worried now. Just like yesterday.

"What's your problem?" He asks me, and I huff.

"You, Shawn." I want to scream but I don't. "You're my big fucking problem," I say, not caring that I was already bringing cursing into this argument. "With you're little 'oh, baby, everything's fine, there's nothing wrong' and your 'oh I promise you I'm never gonna leave you' and your 'oh baby, let me hold you, I know you're sad' that's my problem, Shawn!" I yell, mimicking his voice.

"Baby, what are you talking about?" He asks, trying to come closer, but stops, noticing that if he takes one more step, I'm gonna blow my top.

"You! I'm talking about you! These past few weeks, I've been asking 'Oh, who are you texting?' and all you say is 'oh, no one important.' But watch what happens when it's been three weeks of that, and I can tell that you're hell bent on lying to me, that your nervous I'm gonna find out something, that everything you've said is all gonna go to my head, and I'm not gonna care, but guess what Shawn!? I do! I fucking care! And I know that anyone you've been recently texting is not 'oh, no one important.'" I say, and his face turns white.