Entanglement [COMPLETED✔]

17

Alex

The house was empty.

I knew it because I checked every single room, calling out for Laura, for Mark, my voice dripping with frustration and desperation with each second. My mind ticking, spinning, my stomach knotting with anxiety as I found no trace of them.

The nurse said they left, that the doctor gave her the clear and I had assumed they would come straight here. I had thought I'd walk in with the flowers and beg her to forgive me, to listen to me and give me a chance of having her. To allow me to be close to her as we mourned our child, to help her because I knew how painful it could be to her. 

But hours had passed and they should have arrived but they didn't. Neither Mark nor Laura appeared at the door, neither one answered my calls.

I was falling apart with each passing second, panicking because I didn't know what to do. Thinking as to where they could have gone off to because they couldn't have left. 

Everything was still in her room, her clothes, her books, her stuff. She couldn't have left me, she wouldn't have done this to me, not when I loved her. 

Only when it was night did I realize the extent of my stupidity. 

I was too late.

But why did it take me long to realize that? That I loved her? To talk to her? To explain exactly what happened, to tell her that Jennifer was no one while she was everything to me.

I broke it. I lost it. I loved her. 

And I was alone.

Laura

The flight to California was a mess, on my part. 

It wasn't a mess because I had brought too much, no, I only had a duffle bag with a few items and nothing more. 

Mark had said I didn't have to take anything, that everything I needed, he would buy me once we arrived at his home. But still when we went home to pick up my passport, I couldn't help but to pick up a few things, steal away a shirt of his, my heart aching as I left it all behind. 

No, the flight was a mess because I was a shaking mess as they called for us, as Mark pushed me through the airport and helped me buckle up. I was fine, sorta, still hurting but Mark said we couldn't be too careful. That I still needed to take care because pushing myself could cause more damage to my body but what did I care? 

I was already broken. 

I was scared to board the plane, afraid of what I was doing, and hesitant because my mother had died the same way and I didn't wish for her luck. Mark said it was fine, that nothing would happen to us, that he would be sitting besides me all the way.

And as we rose up into the sky, I couldn't help but to look down at the town I was leaving, my hand clutching Mark's tightly.

In the span of which I had stayed in the hospital, I was numb for several reasons. All of which I tried pushing away because I didn't want to think about him. Not when he didn't show up to explain or even be there to console me on the loss of our child.

I was a fool.

So I accepted my fathers proposal to leave, letting him take me wherever he called home. To leave and start fresh, to forget and be able to breathe.