Princess (Ziam)

Guilt

Thank you guys so much for all of the incredible support on my last author's note. It was a very hard topic for me to write about, and I'll be the first to admit that I'm not okay. I'm acknowledging that, and I am trying to get better. ❤

Here's your next chapter, and I truly hope you do enjoy it!

Question: Which characters are your favorite in this story and why? I'm very curious.

Warning: This chapter does contain the description of a panic attack, so please read carefully and remember to breathe, loves. In and out. 💕

Chapter 89:

     It was the end of the longest week I think I've ever had to endure, but that simple fact didn't make me feel any better. I still felt the weight of the whole week pressing against my back as if it was my school bag instead.

     I walked into the house, and I looked over to where my mum was sitting at the coffee table, dozens of papers laying all around her. Her eyes immediately lifted up to look at me, and she offered me a smile, though I saw the deep disappointment in her eyes.

     "There's always next week," I offered, already inferring that she didn't find a job as she hoped she would this week. She was being really optimistic all week long, and I could see the way her positive viewpoint was currently slipping away and being discarded underneath one of the stacks of papers.

     "Is there Liam?" She questioned, sniffling a bit as she run her hand over the papers on the coffee table, frustration behind every motion. "Because I interviewed at almost every single office available. Four. There are four left, and after that-" Her voice broke away to let out a sob, and my heart ached for my mum.

     I stepped closer to her in hopes of comforting her, but she shook her hand and slammed her hand on the table, the other moving up to hold onto her head which must be aching after all of her stress.

     "I am trying, Liam," She breathed, voice sounding strained and disheartened. She gave a small, humorless chuckle as she wiped at the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. "I am trying so hard to do this because we need this. We need to get back on our feet so that we can have a home of our own that isn't tainted by dark memories. I want to give you a home that is ours, for me and you. So that you can be happy."

    It was silent for a moment, and I heard myself speak, but it sounded so distant. "I am happy," I nearly whispered, it was so faint.

    The worst part about saying the words was that I wasn't even aware if it was a lie or not. A part of me was happy. I had an amazing mum who was trying so hard to accomplish multiple goals for me. I had Colette, who was always lovely at giving advice and opened up her house to us. I had Zayn, who would tell me everyday that he missed me and that he loved me regardless of how late he came home. I was happy about that.

    But I also felt more alone than ever before. I was watching my mum struggle and fall apart to find a job, I was pushing away the only friends I had, I was criticising myself in the mirror every single day, and the person I am in love with is hardly home to just talk to. It wasn't a good feeling at all to only exchange a few words before we had to go to bed. It wasn't a good feeling to be in his arms when every part of me felt like breaking.

    "That's the thing, Liam. You're not happy," My mum spoke, her voice saddened by the fact as another tear slipped free from the barricade. "You're all I have, and you're the most important person in my life. And I'm suppose to take care of you. I only want you to be happy."

    She was becoming a crying mess on the sofa, so I stepped toward her and pulled her into a hug. She hugged me just as tightly as she cried against my shoulder, and I think we both needed this actually. We just weren't stable yet on our own, but I knew we could be with time.