LOVER

hope and despair

The sequel for when everything falls apart is finally here! I've worked on this for months, and I'm really attached to this plot. I really hope you will like this part two, which is the final part. This is another emotional roller coaster, so prepare tissues and get ready to cry, but also bring a bible because there's also some sin in this.

Enjoy! And please don't forget to vote and/or comment! It means the world to me. ♡

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27 April, 2019

Step, deep breath. Another step, another deep breath.

Every time my eyes glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall opposite me, my knee hurt. Memories stained with fright and darkness flashed before my mind, the bitter and iron taste of warm blood still lingering on my tongue after eight long months. The wooden bar underneath my grip disappeared, and instead I felt damp grass and dirty soil, foreign screams echoing inside my ears. Doctors had said that the worst part about my accident wasn't the physiotherapy, it was getting used to the new reality; that is, living without a person that wasn't there anymore, and getting used to the feeling of plastic underneath my knee. They had said that I, as well as Karlie and all the other people involved in the plane crash, were going to be haunted by grief and guilt for the rest of our lives. We were going to be haunted with the fear of getting on a plane, with nightmares replaying what we had lived.

Both Karlie and I went to therapy, both of us dealing with our own demons and scars. And although our relationship was fresh and delicate, at the very beginning of its nature, we had decided that it was best if we lived together. Having her there with me had kept me grounded in more than one situation, and I was glad that I did not lose her that day that now seemed so far away from our grasp.

"You're doing an amazing job, Taylor,"

My physiotherapist kept encouraging me, standing beside the bars that were holding me up and smiling brightly at me. It was late in the evening, and I've been here for hours, the sweat lining my forehead and marking my large sweatshirt underlining my hard work. My arms trembled, as I tried to walk without the help of the bars; even though it's been months, I still couldn't walk without a cane. Well, my doctor said that it was normal, even though I technically could walk without any help, but that would mean getting tired easily. Therefore, for months, I've tried to strengthen the muscles of my thighs with physical therapy, walking every morning, and helping myself with the treadmill. Karlie has been super supportive of my little progress, sometimes carrying me up the stairs when I was too tired to do them myself. She was a gentlewoman, and I loved her for that. She was always making sure that I was okay, or comfortable, or not feeling any sort of pain, and usually, that meant putting my needs before hers.

"Can we stop for today? I'm tired," I sighed, plopping down on the hospital bed when I finally reached it. Doctor Myers nodded faintly, telling me that I could go home and that he would see me the day after tomorrow, before exiting the room along with the physiotherapist. In the loneliness of the grey, modern and spacious hospital chamber, I looked down at my right leg. I kneaded the skin of my thigh, letting out a low moan when pain went up towards my back. I took off the prosthesis, feeling relieved when cool air touched my stump. Before I could get swamped with memories of the plane crush, my phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe, how was physiotherapy?"

The pet name made me blush, and I replied happily. "It was okay, I guess. Just—little bit tired, that's all. How was your day?"

"Pretty good, actually," Karlie laughed airily. "I visited my mom and my sisters today."

"That's nice," I smiled lovingly, staring at the ground and imagining the little smile upturning her thin lips. "How are they doing? Are Kimberly and Karrian alright?"