Loving the Man

Chapter 8: Pain Demands To Be Felt

                        MICHAEL'S POV

"You don't look the best, dawg." Franklin said, taking off from the hospital.

"I don't feel the best. I just watched my wife die. I could've prevented it... if I just wasn't talking to another girl. That was my promise to Amanda, never talk romantically to another woman, and I broke that promise." I sighed, holding my head up with my hand as my elbow was on my armrest.

"Well, we can try to change that feeling." Franklin gave a small smile, but I refused it.

"Can you just take me home? I want to sleep and probably kill myself from depression." I grumbled in response, not even giving him a look.

"Michael, homie." Franklin said. "You can't be all mopey dopey. That's what funerals are for. Do you think Amanda would want you to be even more depressed?"

"Don't play that bullshit on me. You don't know what she'd want." I snapped back, getting all defensive. How dare he say what he thinks Amanda would want?

"M, calm down." Franklin held up one hand in surrender. He stopped at a red light. "You can't get defensive. Do you even know what she wants?" 

Something snapped inside of me when he said that. "Let me out of the car." I moved my hand to the door handle but Franklin grabbed that arm firmly and pulled it away.

"Let me go, Franklin." I hissed, trying to pull away.

"No, I'm not going to. It's what friends to, they don't let go. I'm not letting you go kill yourself. Yeah, you lost your wife. Millions of other people have too. You can't just remorse over something and expect others to just forget you. There are others who care about you as well." Franklin was scowling. He threw my arm at my body. "So if you still want to get out, then get the fuck out."

My heart began pumping faster from anger. "Trying to talk down to me? Are you kidding me? Fuck off." I opened the door, stomping out and slamming it behind me as hard as I could. 

I just lost my wife. My love of my life and that kid is trying to talk down to me and preach about friends? Who the hell does he think he is?

I felt a headache coming on, a strong one at that. Where the fuck I am.... I looked around, completely confused. My mind was swimming and my memory was foggy. I couldn't recognize anything, not even the street name "502 Washington Street".

Cars honked at me to get off onto the sidewalk, so I at least walked over there. My knees were weak and just as I reached the sidewalk, my knees buckled and I collapsed. SMACK! I was knocked out by the cement.

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                        DANIELLE'S POV

"Franklin said Michael the Dipshit got out of the car and when he went back later, he didn't see him." Trevor sighed.

"Trevor, please go look for him." I begged across the phone.

"Franklin also said he's not helping me. The douche got out of the car at 502 Washington Street and that's all he is telling me." Trevor replied.

"Fuck it, I'll go look for him then. I know I'm two hours away, but jesus fuck Trev, you're what? Ten minutes away from that street?"

"Yeah, ten minutes." Trevor said sarcastically. "And how exactly are you going to get here?" 

"I'll steal your dirt bike."

"Don't you dare touch my baby." Trevor hissed.

"I will." I responded, angry on how stubborn he is.