Stay.

Chapter 3

It was a little after nine, Dylan and Layne where now in bed, Layne had her bedtime story along with a million kisses which made her giggle like crazy. They was safe and warm, with full bellies. Dylan acted like he  didn't need tucking in anymore but didn't object to a kiss on the forehead which means he secretly still likes the comfort of it.

I brought the cup of coffee to my lips, giving it a little blow to cool down. I was currently watching an episode of Vikings it was the last episode of the season so I knew I'd be at the edge of seat half way through!

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Yep. I was at the end of the seat pretty much the whole time.
I turned the channel to a movie I've seen a thousand times The Notebook it was one of my favourites, I could properly say there lines for them I watched it that many times. I wasnt paying to much attention to the film though, I just wanted some background noise.

I lit the candles that sat on top of the fireplace, my mothers photo placed inbetween both candles.

When my mother died I was left her house, which meant we was now mortgage free, we decided to sell our old two bedroom house to move in here. It was a spacious three bedroom house so thankfully Dylan and Layne no longer needed to share a bedroom. 

I loved this house, it made me feel closer to my mum in a way, like her presence was still around us all.
The kitchen is my favourite place in the house, she was always out there baking, coming up with new recipes for me to taste and try. Each room held a different memory for me. I cherished this house.

I didn't make that many changes to the house, my mothers design skills were impeccable we just brough our own furniture that seemed to fit the decor perfectly. Most of the house was white walls with glass furniture I always thought it worked well together. The living room walls were filled with pictures of the kids, I loved having them all around the house. Each photo held a different story.

We made a little profit off our old house which was put away for a rainy day.

Calvin worked his arse off for years as a freelance designer, five years back he was fortunate enough to start his own company, his always loved his job and his the best there is well, was the best, since the accident his let good opportunities with work slip through his fingers. I was hard to stand back and watch, he spent years climbing up the ladder, he finally reached the top and with a snap of my fingers he feel back down.

I wanted to shake him, to scream so loud it caused the windows in our house to shatter. I wanted to wake him up from this deep whole his buried himself in but he wouldn't listen to me, I would  raise my concerns to him and what did I get in return. Silence. He didn't seem to care about anything anymore.

I was beginning to loose hope.

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It was now ten o'clock and Calvin hadent text to let me know what time he'll be home, most night the children would ask where there father was, my reply would always be the same, working. Truth was I wasnt sure where he was.

Two years back his family were in a terrible car accident which left his mother, father and sister dead. It broke his heart, and mine in the process just a year after losing my own mother. Calvin has never been the same since. He started going to therapy which I believed was working for him since he wouldn't open up to me. I was just grateful he took comfort in confiding in someone even if it wasnt me. Nothing worse than dragging around unwanted baggage, believe me I know that feeling all to well.

I got a phone call from his therapist a couple of months back asking if Calvin was okay, she told me he hasent shown up for there session in weeks, when I confronted him about it he lashed out, the rage inside him needed to come out some how I guess. Unfortunately it was aimed at me, it's pretty much been that way ever since.
Now it seems like he was always drunk. I was afraid to ask if he was on anything else I couldn't bare hearing the answer.